Chaste Kiss (22 page)

"What is it?” he asked.

"You seemed solid for a moment. I was afraid—"

"No, love. I am not."

"Kiss me again,” she said hoarsely.

As their mouths caressed one another, the ache for more nearly consumed him. The overwhelming need to feel her exquisite heat tore through his resolve. ‘Twas a warning. One he must heed. Wanting to feel the softness of her skin, the silkiness of her hair, was too great a drain upon his strength. They should end it now, and ne'er touch again, for he could not be certain if he could refrain from giving in to the hunger to experience everything his existence would allow, thusly sending him into oblivion. He was but a shell of a man, battling the crushing desire to be more. Never to inhale her heady scent, or taste the sweetness of her lips, was persecution beyond measure.

Now he understood. The years of loneliness were but a prelude to the true punishment for his sins. To love and to be loved, yet ne'er to know the bountiful joys two people could share in life, was his penance.

Voices drifted on the evening breeze from down the path, interrupting their unusual connection. He took several steps back and became fully visible. Their gazes bore into one another with a longing so deep it hung in the very air around them.

Constance giggled as she and Jerome drew closer.

"We should leave them to their privacy,” William whispered.

Isabel nodded, and they silently slipped from the garden into the house. Her head swam as they made their way up the staircase. She had never known such a feeling of want and need in her life. She felt as though she wouldn't be able to take another breath if he wasn't with her. He'd touched her and kissed her. Although not of this world, it was more than what they had before, and it was special.

He followed her into her bedroom. “It is late. You should be asleep. You have much to do on the morrow with your business."

"Funny, but I'm not tired.” She strolled across the room, feeling lighter than air.

"We cannot ever touch again, Isabel."

Her feet landed on the ground. How did she know that's what he would say? Well, she was fully prepared to persuade him. After having a taste of his kisses, she refused to live without them. She may indeed lose him one day to Purgatory or Heaven, but now he was hers, and she was determined to live in the moment and not worry about the future.

"Did you hear my words?” William asked.

"I heard you.” Her mind turned and churned. How does one seduce a ghost? She closed the bedroom door and leaned back against, considering her options.

His broad chest rose and fell with a sigh of relief. “I am glad you understand."

"Who said I understood? I only said I heard you."

His brows pinched tightly together. “But you do, do you not?"

He was so adorable when he looked at her that way. As always, his furrowed brow made her want to smooth away the wrinkles.

"No. I don't.” She stepped away from the door and moved closer, letting her body run on autopilot. It knew what she wanted, what she needed.

"Isabel,” he warned, taking several steps back as she continued her advance.

She followed his retreat, her heart galloping in her chest. “I don't understand, and I don't want to,” she said.

"Why do you not see reason?” He took several steps back and bumped into the wall.

"I suggest you become invisible before I reach you, William, because I don't intend to stop."

"But Isabel.” He vanished as she came within a breath's distance of him. “We should not."

"You talk too much, William.” Standing up on her tiptoes, she prayed he would concentrate and not let her fall through him and end up kissing the wall.

A fluttering of feathers crossed her mouth, tingling and tickling. How long could they continue this heavenly contact before expending all of his energies? The sensation grew as his lips moved over hers, carrying her on a provocative current of desire. Like a lingering static shock coursing through her body, growing in intensity the longer they touched.

He lifted his head and stroked her cheek. “You are so warm. I ache to feel the softness of your skin."

She shivered.

"I have chilled you.” He jerked his hand away.

She giggled softly. “Hardly.” His touch was far from cold. While others may have felt a chill, she felt wave after wave of electricity. Warm, undulating electricity.

His grin returned as he ran the tips of his fingers down her throat then followed the path with his lips. She sucked in her breath at the initial contact. Or was it just the thought of his touch that affected her so much?

Sadly, she realized she couldn't tell the difference between his fingers and his mouth. Both gave her the same extraordinary feeling, but she didn't care. It was a form of touching, and it was all they had.

A moan escaped from deep in her throat. “How long can you keep this up?” Dazed, she savored the sensuality of it all.

"Forever,” he replied huskily.

"But I thought—"

"I lied.” He laid delicate kisses down the side of her neck as his hands slipped around her waist.

Pulling her head back, she gazed into deep blue eyes filled with desire. “Why?"

"I wanted you so much it pained me to be near you. I needed an excuse."

She smiled at his confession. Never had any man made her feel so wanted before. Oh, if only they could do more.

"Is it difficult to concentrate for so long?” she asked.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “My entire being yearns to touch you. It is not difficult to focus my energies as they threaten to consume me if I do not."

Her mind drifted off, wondering how far their touching could go. She wanted his hands, his mouth, everywhere. She almost laughed. For months she'd put Chad off, pulling away from his touch. But now, with William, she wanted it all. Or at least everything they could have. But what were his limits? What were the dangers? She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to think how to phrase the question without embarrassing herself.

His soft laughter pulled her gaze back to his. “What?” she asked.

"You have no idea what it does to me when you nibble at your lip in such a way."

His throaty chuckle sent new shivers of delight down her spine. “Perhaps you could describe it to me."

His eyes filled with such fire, she knew his thoughts were along the same path as hers. How far dare they go with this fragile form of intimacy?

"Isabel, are you asleep?” Constance's voice filtered into the room with her soft knock.

Isabel sneered at the door. What rotten timing. “Just a minute,” she called.

A broad grin spread across William's face.

"This isn't funny,” she whispered sternly. “I can't let her find you in here. It would definitely blow your cover. If she thought we were sleeping together the whole don't touch thing would be out the window."

"Very well, love.” He gave her a quick kiss, then slipped the dagger from his boot, and placed it in the dresser drawer.

Isabel took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Is it too late to talk?” Constance asked.

"No, of course not. I was just getting ready for bed.” She ushered the woman inside, then turned on the bedside lamp.

Constance perched on the edge of the bed. “Well don't let me stop you, sweetie. You go right ahead."

Isabel saw William clearly. Leaning against the bedpost, his arms folded across his broad chest and a single brow cocked up, he wore a teasingly crooked grin.

The rake! He had no intention of leaving. She bet he'd just love it if she did a striptease.

Hmm, maybe later. Whoa, girl.
She was getting in way over her little-to-no-experience head.

Love must do that to a woman, she thought, then looked back at Constance. “I'll just wait."

William shrugged, smiling widely.

"So, what did you want to talk about?” She noticed Constance ringing her hands. “What's the matter? You seem upset."

"Well, no, I mean—yes. Oh, I took you up on your advice and now I'm terrified."

She sat down next to the older woman on the bed and took her hand. “Terrified of what?"

As she struggled to find her words, Isabel caught sight of William stretching out on the bed behind them. Thankfully, the mattress didn't move in the slightest. But he was more than the average distraction with his long muscular body lounging on the bedspread and the spark of desire still prevalent in his eyes. Thoughts of tingling touches and tantalizing kisses flew through her mind in a whirlwind.

"Well. He kissed me in the garden. Several times,” Constance said, jerking Isabel from her most recent memories.

"He did? That's great, Constance."

"No. It isn't. I think he, I mean, I know I—oh dear."

William's face split into a wide grin as he rose up and sat behind them, casting impish glances between her and Constance.

"Oh, this is ridiculous. He's your uncle, for pity's sake. I'm sorry I bothered you, sweetie.” Constance patted Isabel's hand. “These aren't the kinds of things I should be discussing with you."

Isabel was stunned by the woman's sudden shyness. She normally attacked things head-on, said what was on her mind, and never batted an eyelash. “He may be my uncle, Constance, but you're my friend. What is it that's worrying you?"

She darted a glance at her then took a deep breath. “Sex."

Isabel's mouth fell open then closed with a snap. “Oh. I see. And what seems to be the, um, problem?” As if she could offer any suggestions in that quarter, but she cared about Constance and knew she didn't have anyone else to talk to.

Yet she couldn't help feeling more than a little uncomfortable discussing this in front of William. The images it brought to mind were disturbing, to say the least. She knew making love with him would be nothing like the last time she had sex. Aside from the fact that he was invisible.

"It's just, I care a great deal for your uncle,” Constance said. “I don't want to mess up what we have."

Smiling, she took her hand. “You should do exactly what your heart tells you to do. Nothing more and nothing less.” She hoped their ghostly eavesdropper was paying attention. Going back to no touching was definitely not an option.

The rogue winked at her before shifting to sit directly behind her. What was her sneaky ghost up to?

Constance squirmed and hedged. “I guess I'm just a little nervous. It's, um, been a while."

"I know exactly what you mean.” Did she ever.

Isabel suddenly sucked in a breath and snapped her spine straight.

"Are you all right, sweetie?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I, uh, just remembered something. That's all.” The tingles that shot up Isabel's back steadily moved along her shoulders and across the nape of her neck. Every cell in her body quivered.

"So tell me how it's going with you and William? Did going out with Mick work?"

Constance had no idea Isabel was being driven slowly, but deliciously mad. “He, uh...” She cleared her throat and tried to concentrate on the conversation. “Yes, you could say it worked. I don't think he wants me to see Mick anymore, but he hasn't said as much."

There was a faint tugging on her hair. Was he undoing her French braid or was that a confirmation to what she'd just said?

"I'm glad to hear it. I was a little hesitant to knock this evening. I wasn't sure if, well, you know.” Constance grinned.

The tugging stopped, thankfully, but the left strap of her dress was slowly sliding to the edge of her shoulder. Oh, was he ever in for it.

Isabel quickly jerked it back into place and turned to Constance. “Things haven't progressed that far.” But she had a pretty good idea of how far things could go. “Remember he doesn't let anyone touch him."

"Oh yes, that's right. How do you plan on getting around that?"

"I don't know exactly. I thought I'd just work up to it. You know, take it
really
slow,” she emphasized for his benefit. If he didn't watch it, Constance would be running from the room screaming about it being possessed.

The top of his head appeared over her shoulder as he nibbled on her neck. She struggled to keep a straight face and remain calm as he moved slowly down and around the back to the other side. Could anything possibly feel any better?

Yes, the real thing
.

Constance patted her hand. “Well, sweetie, I won't bother you anymore. Just in case.” She crossed to the door.

"Thanks.” Isabel leaned forward, out from beneath his mouth. It was that or fall back on the bed with her eyes rolling up into her head muttering words not meant for anyone's ears but his.

Opening the door, Constance said, “Well, good night, dear, and thank you for listening and not being upset."

With her breath firmly lodged in her throat, Isabel managed a nod and a faint wave as her zipper slowly opened down her back. Her body tingled with what she believed to be his lips caressing every inch of exposed skin. The dress fell open behind her, and the straps loosely dangled at the edge of her shoulders.

The moment the door closed, she took a quick, deep breath and turned to face her tormentor. “Would you care to tell me how I was supposed to explain my dress suddenly having a mind of its own?"

William grinned widely, reaching for one of the loose straps. Slipping his fingers beneath the thin band, he ran them up and down its length, gently brushing her skin.

"This is not a dress,” he said lowly.

"Really? And what would you call it?"

"A man's fantasy come true. It displays your luscious figure perfectly, and is verily simple to remove.” He slipped the strap from her shoulder.

The top of her dress rolled outward on one side, exposing the edge of her strapless bra. His gaze followed his finger as he traced the upper curve of the black lace. Isabel hadn't let a man touch her like this in years, and then it had been clumsy and hurried. She shivered from his caress and the hint of nervous energy surrounding her.

"Tell me again, ‘tis not a chill I leave upon you."

The sound of his throaty command pushed the last of her inhibitions away. She wanted more. So much more. “You've no idea.” She fought to keep her eyes open, but was lost to the incredible sensations he created.