(Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read and review! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and you don't think I'm too silly for writing Enchanted fanfic g . )
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He lowers himself to the bed and draws a deep breath, stunned by the force of the emotion beating in his blood. A second longer and he'd have kissed her. What would make him do such a thing?
He pulls his robe closed, lays his hand where hers had been as if to smooth away the memory. It doesn't work. He can still feel her gentle fingertips there, curious, tentative, and his mind spins with the sensation.
She can rouse him to such extremes so easily. Earlier today it was anger and frustration, but apparently she can move him to desire as well. He never expected that. When did she stop being a crazy girl who talked to animals and become a charming, beautiful woman?
He was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company earlier. Walking in the park, or sitting at dinner, and just talking to her. She has such a unique outlook on life. He can almost believe she stepped out of the fairy tale she's described (and that scares him, really, when he stops to think about it). She's so unashamedly awed by everything around her, and so unafraid to show emotion.
He was surprised, too, to find himself telling her about Caroline, but she was such a sympathetic listener that he scarcely realized he was confiding in her. When he was finished, he wondered what she thought of him. She places such value on love, and tonight he admitted that he couldn't hold his marriage together. But she isn't judgmental at all; he supposes she would be likely to tell him he simply hadn't met his true love yet. Well, perhaps he hadn't. Caroline certainly wasn't her.
The ache in his body pipes up that perhaps he has found her, perhaps she is even now sleeping on his couch in a borrowed pair of his pajamas. He frowns, and firmly reminds his libido that lust isn't love, and certainly not true love. One almost, aborted kiss does not true love make.
But for a moment he allows his imagination to play with the idea, allows himself to consider what might have happened if he'd leaned forward just a little farther and kissed her. Her eyes had been wide and wondering, almost afraid, as if she didn't quite understand what she was feeling. But there had been an expectation in them as well, an invitation. She wanted to understand. He has a sneaking suspicion she's never kissed Edward (although he does not want to think of Edward). Didn't she, on that first night, say she had to get home to be married so she and Edward could share true love's kiss? (And what kind of culture is this, if they never kiss before they're married?)
But he does not want to think of that, either. He wants to think of Giselle. How her eyes would have fluttered shut as his mouth closed on hers. How her hands would have spread over his chest and across his shoulders, slipped under the lapels of his robe. How her body would have shifted closer to his and he'd have wrapped his arms around her, his fingers skimming the narrow ribbon of bare skin at her waist where her pajama shirt has pulled up. How she would have tasted under his lips, sweet and soft and immeasurably compelling. He can feel himself reacting to the mental picture, his heart beating faster and his blood warming beneath the skin. It would have been an amazing kiss. Perhaps the best kiss he'd ever known. But it would have been a betrayal, for both of them, and neither Nancy nor Edward has done anything to deserve that.
But he does not want to think of Edward, because he does not want to consider why he is so convinced Edward is not coming. Why he was so quick he was to assume the worst of Edward, to dismiss Giselle's relationship with him as hopeless. Why he is so passionately opposed to Giselle waiting for him. Somehow he thinks the reason might be something else he does not want to think of.
So he draws another deep breath, his fingers still warm on his chest where Giselle's had been. He tries to think of Nancy, and listens to his heart pounding in the darkness.
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(Yes, I know there are people who believe in not kissing before getting married, but I don't imagine Robert meets many of them as a divorce attorney in New York City.)