Free Cast Love Aside by Flora Speer

control. If he once put his arms around her
and touched his mouth to hers and felt her respond to him, he knew
he'd never stop kissing her, never stop wanting her. He'd pour his
heart and his manhood into Lilianne and never cease to desire her
until the day he died.
    That was a situation he could not allow.
    He sat rigid and unmoving while Lilianne
scooted still closer on the bunk. Lifting her face, she lightly
placed her lips on his. Magnus kept his eyes wide open, so he saw
the purple shadows on her closed lids. He saw up close how smooth
her skin was. He even saw the tiny mole, no larger than a pinhead,
at the outer corner of her left eye.
    She drew away, to regard him with a hurt
expression.
    “I expected you to kiss me back,” she
whispered. “You did say you wanted the kiss.”
    “My lady,” he began, resorting to painful
formality because he was uncertain how to explain what he couldn't
fully understand.
    “Is Uncle Erland correct, then?” she asked.
“He says I am too big and too ugly for any man ever to desire any
intimacy with me. But you picked me up, Magnus. When you carried me
to the rowboat, I felt light as air. For once, I felt like any
other girl. For that kindness alone, I thought you deserved to
receive my first kiss. But you didn't really want my kiss, did you?
You were only teasing. I should have known better than to think you
were serious.”
    “Lilianne—”
    “I am sorry, Sir Magnus.” She hung her head,
her shoulders slumping. “You have been kind to me, and you've
promised to help me learn where my brother is. All I've done in
return is cause you trouble and embarrass you. I do apologize.”
    “I don’t like you humble,” he said. Unable to
help himself, longing to restore her usual cheerful confidence, he
caught her face between his hands, forcing her to look directly at
him. “If your uncle says you are ugly, it's because he is blind.
Lilianne, you are a beautiful, priceless treasure.”
    “I am?”
    She raised her head and there was that
trusting look again, the violet eyes wide, the soft lips atremble.
Magnus, who had spent years believing he could resist the
blandishments of any woman, however desirable, suddenly found
himself about to succumb to the naive wiles of a girl who had never
been properly kissed. Her lost look he could remedy, even if he
could not, in honor, take what else she offered. He wasn't sure she
was aware of what she was offering; that Lilianne de Sainte Inge
remained sensually unawakened was painfully obvious to him. With
every fiber of his being he longed to be the man to arouse the rich
passion that he suspected lay sleeping beneath her sweet innocence.
At the same time, he knew he had no right to lay his crude hands on
her.
    But he could kiss her – just one kiss – to
let her know she was desirable, to restore the feminine confidence
her uncle had undermined with cruel words.
    Only one kiss, he told himself, and then he'd
never touch her again. He could do that much for her. For
Lilianne's sake, he'd control his rampaging lust.
    As soon as he reached England, he'd find a
willing female, a tavern wench, or a lady's maid, or perhaps one of
the many noblewomen who were eager to bestow sexual favors outside
the marriage bed, whose indecent interest in his great size he had
always shrugged off before, and he'd slake his lust and be done
with the uncomfortable demands of his manhood. Then he'd forget all
about Lilianne de Sainte Inge.
    He could do it. He knew he could.
    Still holding her face tenderly between his
palms, he leaned forward and kissed her.
    Lilianne's breath was sweet as roses. Her
lips were soft and moist and they parted easily under the pressure
of his mouth. Her hand stroked up into his hair, pulling him a
little nearer. She didn't even know enough of men to understand
that she ought to hold something of herself back from him. She
leaned against him, giving freely of her warmth and goodness, and
Magnus eagerly accepted the gift. Without