Heart's Desire

by Jacquie D'Alessandro

  His common sense coughed to life. Demanded he get the bloody hell out of there.

  But he couldn’t have moved away had his life depended on it. Nor, it seemed, could he lie.

  “Yes. I saw it.”

  She released a shaky breath. “Thank God. Thank God it wasn’t just me. William… I can’t explain how that image happened, but I believe I know why it did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want, more than anything, for you to kiss me.” With her gaze steady on his, she slid her hands upward, over his shoulders, then linked her fingers at his nape.

  Fire. He felt as if he stood in a pit of fire. His jaw tightened, his hands fisted, every muscle in his body straining with the effort to remain still. To contain the raw need scraping at him.

  “Kiss me, William.” The words whispered warm and seductive across his lips, stealing his breath. Dissolving his will to resist. She lifted up on her toes and pressed her soft curves against him. “Please.”

  Please. One word. Bloody hell, earlier this evening, she’d knocked him off his feet with two words: Hello, William. Now, with only one, she disintegrated into ash all the years of restraint he’d adhered to so fiercely.

  With a groan that felt ripped from his soul, he snatched her against him. And lowered his head.

  The instant his lips touched hers, he was lost. Nothing existed except Callie. In his arms. Her plush lips parting beneath his. Her soft curves pressed against him. Her fingers sifting through the hair at his nape.

  More, more. The word pounded through him, a mantra he couldn’t ignore now that the floodgates had opened. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the silky heat of her mouth. So good. God, she tasted so damned good. Warm and delicious. Like a feast after an endless famine. Smelled so good. Like roses and cool air. Felt so good. As if she’d been created to fit perfectly in his arms.

  He felt her moan against his mouth, the sweet vibration sizzling through him like a bolt of lightning. She rubbed her tongue against his, obliterating whatever remained of his control.

  More, more. Had to have more. Without breaking their kiss, he dipped his knees and lifted her straight up. With her feet dangling a foot above the ground, he strode forward. Settled his shoulders against the tree trunk. Spread his legs and pulled her into the vee of his thighs.

  Everywhere. He was desperate to touch her everywhere, a madness he might possibly have been able to temper with at least some modicum of the finesse he’d been stripped of if only she’d remained still. But instead, she squirmed against him. Ran her hands over his chest and into his hair, urging him closer, igniting him further. He skimmed one impatient hand down her back to the curve of her bottom. Pressed her tighter against his aching erection. Rocked his hips against her, cursing the voluminous layers of her clothing between them. His other hand came forward and cupped her breast. Even through the heavy brocade of her gown, he felt her nipple harden.

  More, more. Again and again, he slanted his mouth over hers, his raw need fueled by the sudden unleashing of so many years’ worth of pent-up longing and desire and frustration and love.

  Touch her. Had to touch her. Now. Mindless with the inferno consuming him, he yanked fistfuls of her skirts upward until he could insinuate his hand beneath the layers of material and petticoats. He hooked his hand under her thigh and raised her leg, anchoring it high on his hip. Then swept his hand impatiently along the smooth fabric covering the curve of her buttocks. Lower, unerringly to the slit in her drawers.

  Wet. Bloody hell, she was so wet. And so soft. And he was so damned hard and he wanted and loved her so damned much. She gasped and her head fell limply back. He immediately took advantage, trailing his mouth down the fragrant column of her neck while his fingers teased her folds.

  “William… William… ”

  The sound of his name whispered into his mind.

  “William… please… ”

  Please. That single word once again struck him, this time penetrating the fog of desire engulfing him. Reminding him where he was. What he was doing. And whom he was doing it with.

  Reality hit him like a bucket of cold water, and with a guttural oath, he jerked his hand from beneath her skirt. Grasped her shoulders. And gently but firmly set her away from him.

  William squeezed his eyes shut as the reality of what he’d done crashed down on him. Now that he wasn’t touching her, the remainder of the haze clouding his judgment evaporated, leaving behind a wealth of self-disgust and recrimination.

  Jesus, he’d lost his mind. He’d touched her and utterly lost all control. All mastery over himself. He’d always feared what might happen if he ever gave in to temptation and kissed her. Well, now he knew. Christ, he’d pawed her. Jerked up her skirts. He’d practically mauled her. And if sanity hadn’t returned when it did, he would have completely compromised her.

  He sucked in a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Callie stood in front of him, her hair a tumble of messy curls courtesy of his impatient hands, her lips moist and swollen from the onslaught of his kisses. Her eyes were huge and filled with unmistakable shock. And riveted upon him.

  Shame and self-loathing filled him. Of course he’d shocked her. He’d shocked himself. Never in his entire life had he lost control in such a manner. To do so with her was unforgivable. Christ, the way she was looking at him, as if she’d never seen him before, filled him with a sick sense of loss the likes of which he’d never before experienced.

  His first reaction was to reach for her, but he couldn’t trust himself to touch her. In a matter of mere minutes, he’d destroyed a friendship he’d cherished his entire life. All because he didn’t keep his hands off her.

  “Callie.” His voice faltered and he had to clear his throat before he continued. “I’m sorry. So very sorry. I know how inadequate those words must sound, but please know that I mean them from the bottom of my heart. What just happened, what I just did was… inexcusable.”

  When she continued simply to stare at him, his insides tightened with dread. “Are you all right?”

  She swallowed audibly then moistened her lips. “Actually, I’m not certain I’ll ever be the same again.”

  Another lash of self-reproach flogged him. “The way I behaved was unforgivable. It never should have happened. I should have stopped—”

  “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

  “You bloody well should have,” he ground out, his anger at himself spilling over. “You should have slapped my face.” He pulled in an unsteady breath and raked his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. This is in no way your fault. I’m fully to blame.”

  She blinked then frowned. “You most certainly are not. And I am not looking for an apology.”

  “You have one just the same.”

  “I don’t want it. Nor did I want you to stop.”

  His heart stuttered at her words. “Callie, you don’t know what you’re saying—”

  “I know precisely what I’m saying. If you’ll recall, I asked you to kiss me.”

  “I did a hell of a lot more than kiss you.”

  “Yes.” She erased the distance he’d put between them and grasped his hands. “And it was the most wonderful, magical, extraordinary thing that has ever happened to me. I never imagined I could feel such passion. Or that I was capable of inspiring it.”

  William froze, an oddity to be sure, given the rush of heat that swamped him. Comprehension dawned, stunning him. There was no mistaking her meaning or the emotions shining in her eyes. She cared for him. The same way he cared for her. And she wanted him. Just as he wanted her.

  The realization nearly brought him to his knees. But his elation was cut short by the hard, cold reminder that nothing else had changed. Their circumstances would forever prevent them from being together.

  She squeezed his hands. “William, what happened between us was—”

  “Wrong. In every sense of the word.” He pulled his hands from her grasp and forced himself to step away from her. While he still could
. “I was wrong to touch you. In that way. In any way. It never should have happened. I made a mistake. A terrible mistake.”

  “A mistake? Are you saying you didn’t… feel what I felt?”

  “I’m saying it never should have happened. And that what I feel is profound remorse. That we come from two different worlds and therefore nothing can ever come of any… feelings we might possibly have.”

  “We don’t come from different worlds, William,” she said quietly. “I was born right here in Halstead. Just like you.”

  “Any similarities in our circumstances changed long ago. You’re the sister of a duchess. I’m a village shopkeeper.”

  “And you believe that’s not enough for me?”

  “It’s most definitely not enough for a duchess’s sister.”

  “And if I said it was?”

  For one impossible second, his heart leapt with hope. Then just as quickly crashed to the bottom of his chest as sanity returned. “I’d say you’re not thinking clearly. That you’re very unwisely allowing a few moments of passion to override your common sense.”

  “I disagree.”

  A bitter sound escaped him. “Now, there’s a surprise.”

  “If you believe that the trappings of Society are what matter most to me, then you don’t know me at all.”

  “How can they not matter? Your family, your life, is in London.”

  “Perhaps. But my heart is here. In Halstead. It always has been.”

  There was no doubt she meant it—it was all right there in her eyes. But one of them had to be sensible, one of them had to do what was best for her, and clearly it had to be him. Even if it killed him. And given the tightness constricting his chest, he suspected it just might.

  He looked into her eyes, willing her to see his resolve. And the depth of his regret. “Regardless of where you believe your heart may be, your future is not here. And I’m sorry if anything I’ve done this evening would make you believe otherwise. If I could take back that kiss, I would. But I can’t, so I can only again apologize and ask for your forgiveness. And hope we can remain friends.”

  Silence swelled for several long seconds, then she said, “I want to make absolutely certain I understand you. You’re sorry you kissed me.”

  A muscle tightened in his jaw, and he jerked his head in a nod. “Yes.”

  “That it was wrong.”

  “In every way.”

  “You think what we shared was a mistake.”

  “I know it was a mistake. I can only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “And that’s what you want from me, William? Forgiveness?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing more?”

  Bloody hell, he wanted everything from her. And if things were different, if fate hadn’t taken her into an exalted social realm… but things weren’t different. So he forced himself to say what had to be said. “Nothing more.”

  “And that is your final word?”

  “Yes.”

  Trapped in an agony of loss, he watched the hope fade from her expression. Her eyes glittered in the darkness, and dread stabbed him at the thought of her crying. But instead of doing so, she lifted her chin and stepped in front of him. And he realized her eyes weren’t gleaming with tears but with anger. Indeed, she looked positively furious.

  “Well, I have something to say to you,” she said in a low, throbbing voice. Her finger jabbed him in the chest. He stepped back, more in surprise than in pain. “You say that there can only be friendship between us, but I’m afraid we once again disagree, because based on the way you kissed me, ‘tis clear there’s already more.”

  “I told you, that was a—”

  “Mistake. Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. And you’re filled with remorse. Well, allow me to relieve your mind, William. As it turns out, I am the one who made the mistake. By thinking you’d be brave enough to take what you so obviously want.”

  A combination of surprise and anger rippled through him, and he narrowed his eyes right back at her. “Are you insinuating I’m a coward?”

  “No. I’m saying it outright. I never thought so until tonight, but that’s precisely what you are. My actions this evening can leave no doubt as to what I want and what is important to me. I’d hoped, prayed, you’d want the same, and your kiss tells me you do. Yet you’re too afraid to admit it and do something about it. You’re not willing to take what you want, what we both want. You believe I’d be giving up something, and I tell you I would be giving up nothing. Yet you’re willing to give up the life, the happiness, the love we could have together. And that does indeed make you a coward. And that is my final word.”

  After a last fulminating look, one clearly meant to incinerate him where he stood, she shoved through the drooping branches and strode down the path leading back to the cottage. Leaving William alone.

  Utterly and completely alone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “We’re almost home,” Aunt Olivia shouted.

  Callie lifted her gaze from the book she’d been pretending to read for the last three hours and looked out the carriage window. The verdant expanse of Hyde Park stretched out just ahead. “Yes,” she agreed, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her tone. “Home.”

  Aunt Olivia reached across the confines of the carriage to pat Callie’s hand. “Smile, my dear. You have every reason in the world to be happy. There’s the coronation, then your birthday, and then your engagement to look forward to.”

  Callie barely refrained from wincing. Her misery wasn’t Aunt Olivia’s fault. She didn’t have the slightest clue about Callie’s feelings. And, as Callie intended to keep it that way, she forced her lips to curve upward. “I’m happy, Aunt Olivia. Just tired from the long ride.”

  Aunt Olivia nodded. “Oh, yes, my dear. You’ll make a beautiful bride.”

  “Ride,” Callie shouted.

  “Yes, pride can be a nuisance, to be sure. But have faith, dear child. They eventually come to their senses.”

  “They?” Callie asked, utterly confused by her aunt’s latest conversational tangent.

  “Men.” Aunt Olivia pursed her lips. “And sometimes women as well, so beware you don’t allow yourself to be blinded by something so foolish. There is no place for pride when one is in love. Now, is my bonnet tied properly, dear? I do not wish to arrive looking undone from our travels.”

  “You look fine,” Callie hollered, then turned her attention back to the window in an effort to forestall any further conversation before their arrival. She had no idea what Aunt Olivia was talking about and, frankly, was too emotionally drained to try to figure it out. Besides, she needed these last few minutes to gather herself. To bury her sorrow and heartbreak and disappointment where no one would ever see them.

  After leaving William last night, she’d paced her bedchamber until dawn. Several hours later, her anger had finally cooled, leaving a dull ache and bone-deep weariness in its wake. She’d dawdled over breakfast, had the coachman rearrange the luggage twice, then feigned a desire to take one last turn through the gardens before departing, all in the hope that William would come to the cottage to see them off. To tell her he’d had a change of heart. That he wanted them to have a life together.

  But he hadn’t come, and with no further excuses to delay their departure any longer, she’d boarded the carriage, irritated with herself for her silly hopes. He’d made his position clear. He didn’t want her. She’d thrown herself at him, and he’d rejected her. She’d ventured everything, yet had gained nothing. Except heartbreak.

  Once ensconced in the carriage, Aunt Olivia had suggested they stop by William’s shop to bid him farewell. Callie had instantly rejected the idea, saying they needed to be on their way quickly, that they were already departing later than planned, and that she didn’t want Hayley to worry. Aunt Olivia hadn’t argued the point, and Callie had breathed a sigh of relief. Her battered pride couldn’t possibly have withstood seeing William again.

 
Her pride… A frown pulled down her brows. Aunt Olivia had just mentioned something about pride. What had she said? She turned to her aunt to question her, but before she could speak, the carriage rocked to a halt.

  “We’ve arrived,” Aunt Olivia announced in her booming voice.

  The carriage door opened, and a liveried footman helped Aunt Olivia and then Callie to alight. London’s ubiquitous fog obscured the sun, casting Hayley and Stephen’s elegant brick Mayfair townhouse in gloomy, gray shadows that perfectly matched Callie’s mood. As the footman supervised the unloading of the trunks, Callie opened the wrought iron gate and started up the flagstone walkway, followed by Aunt Olivia.

  They were halfway up the narrow path when the front door of the townhouse opened. Callie looked up and halted as if she’d walked into a transparent wall.

  William stood in the entryway. Their gazes locked, and Callie’s breath stalled along with her heart. He paused for several seconds, then strode toward her, his gaze never leaving hers, not halting until he stood directly in front of her.

  “Hello, Callie.”

  She opened her mouth and realized to her chagrin that her jaw had already dropped. She snapped it closed, swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat, then managed to say, “Wh… what are you doing here? And how did you get here?”

  “I rode. Quite a nice journey on horseback, especially when one sets out at dawn. So much quicker than by carriage. As for what I’m doing here, I wished to speak to the duke and duchess, and as they are in London… here I am.”

  Callie continued to stare at him in stunned amazement. “Why did you wish to speak to Stephen and Hayley?”

  “Before I tell you, there’s something I need to say.” His attention shifted over her shoulder, and Callie suddenly recalled where they were. And that they weren’t alone.

  “Oh, don’t mind me, dear boy,” came Aunt Olivia’s voice from behind Callie. “I’m quite deaf, you know. I’ll just supervise the unpacking of the luggage.”

  Callie glanced behind her and watched Aunt Olivia instruct the strapping footman regarding the trunks. As soon as she returned her attention to William, he said, “After you left the lake last night, I remained beneath the willow tree. For hours. Thinking about what had happened. What you said. What I said. And with my every thought, my mind kept circling back to the images we’d seen in the mirror pendant. They had to mean something. Finally, after what were easily the loneliest, most miserable few hours of my life, I realized the significance of those images. Do you wish to know what I concluded?”