The Secret of Bell Cottage

Chapter Twenty - Gideon

A spark of arousal began to smolder in his core. He would never know which one of them moved first, but slowly they both leaned closer until their lips met. At first the kiss was soft, sweet and comforting. A sharing of two souls offering and receiving comfort from each other. But it slowly began to deepen as ardor crept over them both.

Gideon reached for her waist as he shoved his chair back and got to his feet. She also moved to stand, her arms sliding up to wrap around his neck as she strove to close the gap between them. He had to bend slightly to accommodate their difference in height, even as she leaned into him, raising up on her toes. He was aware of all this peripherally but his focus was on the kiss. The feel of her lips, soft and full as she yielded to his passionate assault. The warm, fresh lavender scent of her delicate skin filled his head. He licked the seam of her lips and she opened for him like a flower to the sun. He dove in and found her tongue, delighting in her skill as she dueled with him. It was a heady feeling. He wanted more.

His hands roamed over her rounded curves, pressing her into the cradle of his thighs. He rocked against her, delighting in the feel of her softness. She was more than willing, leaning into his strength. A contented sigh passed her lips as he slid his mouth along her jaw, to nibble at her neck.
He was on fire. His need for this woman was blazing through him and he was desperate to bring her level of excitement up to meet his own. He clenched his hands over her buttocks and squeezed. Her squeak of surprise brought a pleased grin to his lips as he continued to kiss her throat. He felt her shift, her thighs moving restlessly. The musky odor of her desire filled his head with scintillating ideas. He wanted her. But he knew he couldn't simply take. She needed to know that she was fully in control here. His body protested but his mind refused to yield.

Gently he released her from his embrace. He placed his hands on her shouders and urged her back, setting her at a short distance. They were both panting heavily. The heat they had generated with their passion still blazed. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with passion and he groaned, castigating himself for a sentimental fool. Obviously she was as lost to their mutual desire as he was. He was a fool to refuse to finish what they both wanted. But he was determined to give her the option. He couldn't accept her passion unless she agreed with the consequences. He stared into her eyes, parting his lips to speak her name, but then a sheepish grin tugged at his cheeks as he realized he didn't know what to call her.

"I need to ask you something very important."

He watched her struggle with the fog of passion, trying to make sense of what he said. Disappointment cooled some of her ardor and her eyelids fluttered closed for a moment. Then with a deep sigh, she shifted her shoulders as if bracing herself and opened her eyes.

Her gaze was direct, as she demanded, "Ask it."

"What is your Christian name?"

Sudden, startled laughter erupted from her and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her amusement. He grinned, enjoying her hilarity. It took her several moments to regain control of herself but she continued to smile as she answered.

"I was christened Bathsheba Rose Ellen Dunmore." A little giggle crept out.

No doubt she was amused by the surprised look on his face as he processed what she'd told him.

"Really?" He watched her nod soberly, even as her eyes twinkled with continued mirth.

"My mother was very fond of choosing names by randomly flipping open the family bible to a page and reading the first passage she saw."

"And are you actually called Bathsheba?" He widened his eyes in mock-horror.

"No," she chuckled. "Papa said it was too much of a mouthful for him to handle. He dubbed me Sheila instead."