2
Sara could see the hesitation in Ian's face. She knew he was wondering if this was an invitation to finish what had been interrupted so many times this evening. Maybe he needed another hint? Pezzini smiled invitingly at Nottingham, leaning slightly toward him.
Was she smiling at him? Considering the way their first date had turned into another brush with the supernatural, not to mention the somewhat harsh truths he had spoken, Ian was amazed Sara wanted anything to do with him. He moved closer to her hesitantly, ready to move back if he was reading her wrong.
Not only did Sara not move away, she settled one hand on his hip. That was all the cue Ian needed. He closed the last bit of distance between them, hardly daring to believe that he was finally going to taste the honeyed lips of his beloved.
Nottingham settled his hands on the back of her neck, partly for support, and partly for the feel of her skin against his. It was a compromise, made to help him keep his hands off the mostly bare thigh that he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch.
Besides, that would be moving far too fast. He wanted to savor every moment in its turn. To do otherwise would be like peeking under the wrapping of a Christmas present or reading the last page of a story. Nottingham was not so interested in the destination that he would ignore the joys of the journey.
His lips brushed over Sara's, light as a butterfly wing. She was the epitome of woman, a goddess made flesh, and he was a fortunate pilgrim, come to the shrine of the most holy of holies. How could he be so near and fail to worship Sara, as she deserved, even if she was not ready to hear professions of love? His kiss was filled with reverence and the emotion he dared not speak.
Pezzini didn't know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this gentle caress. Given what he did for a living, and the way he had danced, she had expected something a little more aggressive. Instead Ian's lips were like the first drops of spring rain, soft, pure, and innocent.
When his soul-baring caress was not rejected, Ian brushed his lips over hers again. This time the glide of sensitive flesh was a little longer, a little bolder, but no less respectful. Perhaps he had read too many tales of courtly love, but he could not treat her as anything other than the incredible gift that she was.
Never had Sara felt so cherished. Her soul opened like the petals of a flower as she returned his embrace in kind. It was an incredible moment that seemed to go on forever. Stars wheeled in her head; surely the universe had turned upside down. How else could she explain feeling so turned around by a simple kiss?
But it was not simple. The kiss was magic, as all first kisses were, and more. There was that indefinable something that Pezzini had never felt before and could not express. She only knew she wanted to wrap the feeling around her like a cloak, to warm her heart forever.
Sara pulled back slightly, wanting to see if the feeling was echoed in Nottingham's eyes. His lashes raised, and his gaze met hers. His eyes were the color expensive cognac with the sun behind it, and just as intoxicating. As she basked in the warmth glowing in those soulful brown orbs, she was convinced he must feel as she did.
His head dipped, beginning their embrace anew. Sara parted her lips, wanting to deepen the contact. She reached up, letting her fingers glide over his high cheekbones and into his hair. Pez felt the edge of the band that held back his dark curls and made a soft complaining sound. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, but the tie kept his glorious mane confined.
Ian reached up without breaking the kiss and jerked at the band in his hair. If his lady wished it gone, he would remove it. The elastic was no match for the strength applied, and gave with a pop. It shot out of his grasp like a launched rubber band. The metal crimp that had been holding the elastic together made a muted ping as it struck the smoked glass divider.
Pezzini looked at him in surprise. She knew from experience that one did not just yank a hair tie out, not without sacrificing several strands. If it pained Nottingham, he showed no sign of it. Instead he shook his head, letting his hair fall free. It framed Ian's face like a dark halo when he was done.
Sara thrust her fingers into the wavy strands, enjoying the silken texture, and pulled his head down for another kiss. She purred her pleasure into his mouth. Their embrace deepened, as Sara continued to use her hold on his hair to tilt his head, which gave her greater access to his mouth.
On the other side of the glass, an unconscious Robert lay shoved over into the passenger side. His head was lolling with the motion of the car. Blood had run from where he had been struck behind his ear, but it was mostly dry now.
The new driver was smiling under his stolen cap as the limousine turned into the dockyards.
Sara could see the hesitation in Ian's face. She knew he was wondering if this was an invitation to finish what had been interrupted so many times this evening. Maybe he needed another hint? Pezzini smiled invitingly at Nottingham, leaning slightly toward him.
Was she smiling at him? Considering the way their first date had turned into another brush with the supernatural, not to mention the somewhat harsh truths he had spoken, Ian was amazed Sara wanted anything to do with him. He moved closer to her hesitantly, ready to move back if he was reading her wrong.
Not only did Sara not move away, she settled one hand on his hip. That was all the cue Ian needed. He closed the last bit of distance between them, hardly daring to believe that he was finally going to taste the honeyed lips of his beloved.
Nottingham settled his hands on the back of her neck, partly for support, and partly for the feel of her skin against his. It was a compromise, made to help him keep his hands off the mostly bare thigh that he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch.
Besides, that would be moving far too fast. He wanted to savor every moment in its turn. To do otherwise would be like peeking under the wrapping of a Christmas present or reading the last page of a story. Nottingham was not so interested in the destination that he would ignore the joys of the journey.
His lips brushed over Sara's, light as a butterfly wing. She was the epitome of woman, a goddess made flesh, and he was a fortunate pilgrim, come to the shrine of the most holy of holies. How could he be so near and fail to worship Sara, as she deserved, even if she was not ready to hear professions of love? His kiss was filled with reverence and the emotion he dared not speak.
Pezzini didn't know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this gentle caress. Given what he did for a living, and the way he had danced, she had expected something a little more aggressive. Instead Ian's lips were like the first drops of spring rain, soft, pure, and innocent.
When his soul-baring caress was not rejected, Ian brushed his lips over hers again. This time the glide of sensitive flesh was a little longer, a little bolder, but no less respectful. Perhaps he had read too many tales of courtly love, but he could not treat her as anything other than the incredible gift that she was.
Never had Sara felt so cherished. Her soul opened like the petals of a flower as she returned his embrace in kind. It was an incredible moment that seemed to go on forever. Stars wheeled in her head; surely the universe had turned upside down. How else could she explain feeling so turned around by a simple kiss?
But it was not simple. The kiss was magic, as all first kisses were, and more. There was that indefinable something that Pezzini had never felt before and could not express. She only knew she wanted to wrap the feeling around her like a cloak, to warm her heart forever.
Sara pulled back slightly, wanting to see if the feeling was echoed in Nottingham's eyes. His lashes raised, and his gaze met hers. His eyes were the color expensive cognac with the sun behind it, and just as intoxicating. As she basked in the warmth glowing in those soulful brown orbs, she was convinced he must feel as she did.
His head dipped, beginning their embrace anew. Sara parted her lips, wanting to deepen the contact. She reached up, letting her fingers glide over his high cheekbones and into his hair. Pez felt the edge of the band that held back his dark curls and made a soft complaining sound. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, but the tie kept his glorious mane confined.
Ian reached up without breaking the kiss and jerked at the band in his hair. If his lady wished it gone, he would remove it. The elastic was no match for the strength applied, and gave with a pop. It shot out of his grasp like a launched rubber band. The metal crimp that had been holding the elastic together made a muted ping as it struck the smoked glass divider.
Pezzini looked at him in surprise. She knew from experience that one did not just yank a hair tie out, not without sacrificing several strands. If it pained Nottingham, he showed no sign of it. Instead he shook his head, letting his hair fall free. It framed Ian's face like a dark halo when he was done.
Sara thrust her fingers into the wavy strands, enjoying the silken texture, and pulled his head down for another kiss. She purred her pleasure into his mouth. Their embrace deepened, as Sara continued to use her hold on his hair to tilt his head, which gave her greater access to his mouth.
On the other side of the glass, an unconscious Robert lay shoved over into the passenger side. His head was lolling with the motion of the car. Blood had run from where he had been struck behind his ear, but it was mostly dry now.
The new driver was smiling under his stolen cap as the limousine turned into the dockyards.