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‘‘The hands.’’
‘‘Oh. They’re . . . they’re fine.’’
‘‘You need to see more than hands, Corinna, if you’re going to fix Lincolnshire’s portrait.’’
She nodded, knowing he was right.
Apparently taking that as agreement, he rose and finished unbuttoning his shirt. In one single, fluid movement, he pulled it off over his head. Then he draped it over the arm of the sofa and . . . just stood there.
He was absolutely magnificent.
Better than the Elgin gods. Human, not marble, and very,
very
male. His chest rippled with muscles and ridges, and he looked warm and smooth and altogether enticing. It was all she could do to keep from reaching out to touch him.
She’d never seen another man without his shirt. Did they all look like this? Somehow, she thought not. All the gentlemen of her acquaintance led lives of leisure. It seemed fixing buildings had toned Sean’s body in a way that made him different.
And much, much better.
His hands moved to the buttons on his trousers.
‘‘No.’’ She swallowed hard. ‘‘That’s enough for now.’’ She wouldn’t be able to concentrate if presented with anything beyond that splendid torso. ‘‘You need a book.’’
‘‘A book?’’
‘‘In the painting, Lord Lincolnshire is holding a book.’’
He reached for one of the sketchbooks Mr. Hamilton had left behind. Another fluid movement that made something flip-flop in her stomach.
‘‘Will this do?’’
‘‘What? Oh, yes. Have a seat. Like Lord Lincolnshire did, if you’ll remember.’’
He sat and held the book, looking nothing like Lord Lincolnshire, even though the pose was similar. She sketched a few lines. Shaky lines, since she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. ‘‘I fear you don’t really look like Lord Lincolnshire.’’
‘‘Close enough, I imagine. You’re painting him younger, are you not?’’
‘‘I thought the portrait would be more compelling that way. And please Lord Lincolnshire more as well. But I seriously doubt he ever looked like you. That he looked so . . .’’
Hard and hot. Strong and overwhelming. Just looking at Sean robbed her of words. She was growing more confident, though. Her fingers flew across the page, capturing every detail while she had the chance.
She’d remember this evening always.
‘‘So . . . what?’’ he asked.
‘‘Hmm?’’
He smiled and settled back. ‘‘How many sessions do you expect you’ll need?’’
A thousand. Maybe more. ‘‘I’ve time for only two,’’ she said regretfully. ‘‘After that I’ll really need to paint. I hope Mr. Hamilton won’t return and expect to use this studio before then.’’
‘‘Don’t worry yourself about that.’’ Disgust filled his voice. ‘‘I got another letter from him yesterday. He’s staying longer. Claims he’s seeing fairies in the falls or some such blarney,’’ he added with a snort. ‘‘I know he’s really lingering with his lover.’’
His lover.
Corinna felt her skin heat just hearing those two words. Her eyes traced Sean’s form, her pencil traced the lines on the paper, and she imagined him kissing her.
Her lips tingled.
She blew out a tense breath.
‘‘Is something wrong?’’
‘‘I’m just concentrating.’’
Sean shifted, reclining a little to one side, raising an arm to lay it along the back edge of the sofa. He was looking more relaxed—and not at all like Lord Lincolnshire had posed. She considered asking him to move back, but she didn’t want him to.
In the flickering candlelight, he looked absolutely delicious. So delicious she wanted a bite. It was a shocking thought, but she wanted to do it. She wanted to sink her teeth into all that smooth, warm skin—
Oh, this would never do.
She had to concentrate on sketching him, not biting him. Or kissing him.
She sketched a while more in pensive silence.
‘‘I know you’re worried.’’ She heard compassion in his voice. He shifted again, raising a bare foot to the sofa’s surface. He rested the hand with the sketchbook on his bent knee. ‘‘But Hamilton is aware I cannot pretend to be him at the Royal Academy. He’ll be home in time to vote on the Selection Committee.’’
‘‘I know that,’’ she said.
‘‘Is something else wrong, then,
a rún
?’’
Oh, yes, something was wrong. He kept saying words she didn’t understand, for one thing. Words that sounded so lovely and melodic they made her melt inside, even not knowing what they meant. And the way he was looking at her, the way she was looking at him. She wanted to touch him and bite him and kiss him, and she needed to sketch.
It was all just unbearable.
Her sketchbook and pencil both fell from her hands. ‘‘Oh, Sean, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Not tonight.’’
His foot slid back down to the floor. The hand with the book dropped to his side. ‘‘Why not?’’
She didn’t answer. She didn’t think she could tell him. Looking concerned, he took his arm off the edge of the sofa back and sat straighter, ruining the delicious pose.
But she found him delicious, anyway.
‘‘Because I cannot concentrate,’’ she said, feeling her temper rise, although she couldn’t figure out why. ‘‘All I can think of is bi . . . kissing you.’’
‘‘Oh. Well, then. I think we can fix that.’’ She thought he might smile, but he didn’t. In fact, he looked a little apprehensive. ‘‘Why don’t you come over here and give me a kiss, get it out of your system?’’
Well, she wasn’t going to resist
that
invitation. She simply couldn’t. She all but flew out of the chair and into his arms, sprawling over him on the sofa.
He’d intended it to be a little kiss. A get-it-out-of-your-system kiss. She knew that. She could tell by the way he looked startled, by the way his mouth felt a little stiff when she planted her lips on his.
But that didn’t last long, of course. Most of their kisses had been rather wild, and this one was no exception. A moment later he was kissing her back, slanting his mouth over hers, sweeping his tongue inside to claim her.
And, oh, she wanted to be claimed. She remembered reading
Ethelinde
last summer, and how Ethelinde had cried,
I am yours whenever you come to claim me
. That was exactly how she felt.
But Minerva Press novels hadn’t prepared her for everything else Sean made her feel. When he kissed her, the world disappeared . . . she knew only the exciting heat of his mouth and her own blood rushing through her veins, the fierce pounding of her heart and that wonderful melting feeling inside her.
He undid her.
Feeling like that now, she touched him like she’d been wanting to. She ran her hands over his bare skin, and it was hot and silky and made an ache form low in her middle. And she wanted more.
‘‘I want you, Sean,’’ she murmured.
He stopped kissing her. ‘‘What?’’
‘‘I want you.’’ She hadn’t realized that until she’d said it, but it was true. That was why her temper had flared; she wasn’t getting what she wanted. ‘‘I want all of you.’’
He didn’t pretend that he didn’t understand her. ‘‘I want you, too,’’ he said wryly, but she also heard frustration in his voice. ‘‘This is difficult, isn’t it?’’
‘‘No, it’s wonderful. You feel wonderful.’’ She ran her hands over him again, feeling his muscles jump beneath his warm skin, beneath her fingers. A soft groan sounded in his throat, and he shut his eyes, making a little thrill run through her. ‘‘Touch me, Sean,’’ she breathed. ‘‘Touch me like this.’’
Instead, he opened his eyes and took her hands. Took them off himself.
‘‘I cannot.’’ He sat up, moving her to sit beside him, shifting so he could meet her eyes. ‘‘Not now, not before . . . It wouldn’t be right, Corinna. I cannot do that.’’ A strand of her hair had come loose, probably when she’d leapt on him, and he reached to gently tuck it back. ‘‘What you’re offering me isn’t mine to take. Not now.’’
‘‘But I want you to take it.’’ More than she’d wanted anything before in her life. ‘‘That
makes
it yours to take.’’
‘‘It doesn’t.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘I shouldn’t even be kissing you, though God knows I enjoy it. You’re an innocent. A sheltered, aristocratic miss.’’
‘‘I’m an artist,’’ she argued. ‘‘Artists are eccentric, individualistic. Free-spirited.’’ Maybe she wasn’t all of those things, exactly, but she’d always wanted to be. ‘‘We don’t conform to convention.’’
‘‘Well, I do. Sweet Jesus, I’m the son of a vicar. I don’t go around ruining women. I won’t do to you what that bastard Hamilton did to my sister. I like to think I’m better than that.’’
Corinna was startled silent. How could she argue with that? How could she say she wanted him to act like the man he despised most in the world? He was only being honorable. And she’d known all along he was honorable, hadn’t she?
He’d proved his honor so many times, in so many ways. The way he’d wanted her to know the truth from the very beginning, and kept at her until she believed him. The way he still felt guilty deceiving Lord Lincolnshire, even though he knew it was best.
And then there was the way he didn’t want Deirdre to live with the man she loved unless she could marry him. She should hardly be surprised he held himself to the same standards. Sean was the most honorable man she knew.
That was one of the many reasons she loved him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. She could see the wanting in his face, feel it in his kiss, in the way he touched her. He’d said
not now
, hadn’t he? He was planning a future with her. He hadn’t told her yet, just like she hadn’t told him she loved him. All of that had to wait until this was all over. She was going to have to content herself with his kisses until then.
He wanted her. He just didn’t want her
now
. And he seemed so distressed, so troubled. The way he was looking at her broke her heart.
‘‘You are
much
better than that,’’ she said quietly. ‘‘That’s why I want you so much, but I understand.’’ And then, because she couldn’t help herself: ‘‘But I wish you wanted me now.’’
‘‘Of course I want you now,’’ he burst out, sounding exasperated, sounding like he couldn’t believe he had to explain it. ‘‘You obviously
don’t
understand. I want you now, and a minute ago, and a minute from now. All I ever
think
about is wanting you. I want you more than I want to breathe, but I want what’s best for you even more than that.’’
And when those words came out of his mouth, that was when Sean knew.
He loved her.
Yes, she made his blood sing; yes, she’d crawled under his skin; yes, he admired her drive and ambition. But it was more than that, much more. When a man put a woman’s interests before his own, when he denied what he wanted most because it wouldn’t be best for her . . . well, if that wasn’t the definition of love, he didn’t know what was.
He loved her.
He was going to ask her to marry him.
Not now, not until all of this was over. Not until he’d seen everything through, eased Lincolnshire to his rest, settled things between Hamilton and Deirdre. Not until he’d reclaimed his life and had something to offer Corinna besides subterfuge and lies. Not until he could approach her brother with his head held high.
Even then, the marquess was likely to refuse him. But he was going to ask.
And though he was a busy man who rarely stopped to pray anymore, right now he was praying harder than he ever had that the answer would be
yes
.
He kissed her, because he’d already done that and there was no going back. It was a gentle kiss, slow and heartfelt, a kiss he hoped told her without words what he wasn’t ready to say.
Then he rose and reached for his shirt. ‘‘I’m thinking it’s a good idea for us to stop now, as you said. We’ll do this again tomorrow afternoon.’’

 

Chapter Thirty-three
The next day, Lincolnshire perked up.
When Lord Stafford made his usual early morning call, he was pleased to see his patient more comfortable. ‘‘He’s more awake than he’s been for days,’’ he reported when he came out of the earl’s bedroom following his examination. ‘‘And he can speak whole sentences— entire paragraphs—without pausing for breaths between words.’’
Sean had suspected the man might be getting better. ‘‘Do you expect all the sleep has revived him?’’
‘‘Perhaps, but only temporarily,’’ the doctor reminded him. A gentle warning. ‘‘This sort of disease tends to progress and regress in uneven waves, but he’s not recovering by any means.’’ His brown eyes met Sean’s with sympathy. ‘‘You’d best enjoy your uncle’s alertness while you can.’’
Lincolnshire wasn’t his uncle, but Sean nodded and thanked Stafford and saw him out. Only to find another man coming in.

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