Free Charity by Deneane Clark Page A

could only feel and reactand simply be in the moment. Right now. Here. With him. Her hand crept across his midsection to curl around and cling to his waist for support as the world spun away beneath her.
    Lachlan hesitated a bare second as she opened to him. A tiny voice inside his head whispered at him to stop, to think, to wait; that something wasn’t quite as it should be. But then she wriggled and fit herself against him, and that voice faded until it was lost.
    Charity gasped as his tongue invaded her mouth, but the gasp ended in a low moan filled with aching need. Tentatively she met the next foray with one of her own, and then began imitating his movements with growing confidence. She kissed him back with blossoming ardor, igniting a fire that quickly raged out of control.
    Lachlan had never been so aroused by a simple, single kiss. He felt his lust mount, knew he should stop and try to regain his equilibrium, but when Charity began mimicking his movements with her tongue, his rampaging desire consumed him. He felt himself swell and harden with need. As if of its own accord, his hand slid up her rib cage to curve around the soft fullness of one breast. The hard little bud of her nipple, puckered with desire, jutted proudly into his palm, and he knew she was as aroused as he. Her unexpected ardor filled him with a sense of pride, of warmth and caring beyond anything he’d imagined.
    A distant door slammed, jerking him abruptly back to reality. He remembered with a groan that they were seated on a blanket in the garden of his good friend’s home, in full view of anyone who chanced a look out of the many windows on the back of the town house, and he struggled to bring himself and the girl curled against him under control. Reluctantly he relinquished his claim on her lips,kissed her gently on the forehead and tucked her curly head beneath his chin. There would be no need for him to look any further for a wife.
    “Amity,” he said softly.
    Charity stiffened in sudden shock. With a strangled cry, she pushed herself back and away from the man into whose arms she’d just melted. Without another word, she got to her feet and walked back to the house.
    Lachlan watched her go, bemused. Obviously she’d been as surprised as he by the impact of their shared passion. He’d caught a brief glimpse of pain in her cerulean eyes before she narrowed them at him, and now she’d disappeared inside. He bent, gathered up the blanket she’d left behind, and began folding it, deciding he’d have to slow things down tonight when he arrived to escort her to the Upshaws’ ball.
    Charity had managed by sheer force of will to hold herself together until she made it inside the town house. Once there, she began trembling violently. She’d behaved like a besotted little fool! Her embarrassment acute, she chanced a look out the window and saw Lachlan calmly folding the blanket and then bending to pick up her book. Realizing it would be only moments before he came back into the house, she pushed away from the window and ran down the hall, looking for Amity, so she could relay what had happened.
    She almost crashed into her sister, who was standing near the foot of the stairs talking quietly with Dr. Meadows. In her agitated state she didn’t notice how closely the two stood, or how her sister colored gorgeously at being so unexpectedly interrupted.
    “Amity, I can’t explain here, but I need to talk to you. Quickly!” She tossed Dr. Meadows an apologetic look. “In the sitting room.” She tugged on her twin’s arm.
    “Good heavens, Charity! What’s got you so—?” She peered closely at her sister’s face, saw tears brimming there, ready to fall, and turned back to Matthew.
    “Go on,” he prompted before she could say anything. “I’ll just let myself out.”
    Amity gave him a grateful smile and then allowed herself to be pulled into the sitting room. Charity closed the doors and, her voice trembling with agitation, she began