Free Lisbon: Richard and Rose, Book 8 by Lynne Connolly Page B

distance. You hear me?”
    He stopped me the only way possible. He kissed me.
    I leaned forwards, deliberately pressing my body against his, making him support me. One arm snaked around me, cinching me into him, as his mouth opened, coaxing my response. He didn’t have to coax very much.
    I separated my lips under his, and his tongue plunged in, taking possession. I flung my arm around his neck, holding him as close as he held me, locking him tight. His scent wove over me, inviting me in, an aroma of the citrus cologne he wore, mixed just for him, and his own male essence. I wasn’t imagining the musky aroma of his arousal, although I had imagined it so much recently I had become adept at invoking it, but this time it was real. I breathed deeply, giving everything I was to him. Liberated, I gloried in him and forgot any warnings about pushing him too hard. I wanted him. Now.
    I moaned into his mouth, responding to his voracious hunger with my own. His muscles flexed against my hands, and he tore his lips from mine. His arms tensed, holding me. Staring into my face, he released me, put his hands on my waist and paused. “Have mercy, my love.” His voice sounded harsh but edged with concern, not anger.
    “I—I don’t understand.” At that moment, I didn’t. Dazed with passion, I knew only one thing. How much I wanted him.
    “Give me time. Space. Please. I can’t sleep with you tonight, but I will, I swear it.”
    “When?” I made no effort to hide my anguish. A tear rolled down my cheek, and he reached out to smooth it away. He held it on his thumb, looked at it as if it were the finest diamond. It sparkled for an instant before he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off. He closed his eyes as if savouring the most delicious nectar.
    “Soon.” He looked at me, regret and pain to match mine clear to see. “I swear it. But please, if we can, I want to start slowly. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to hurt me. We plunged into an affair, dived into marriage, but this time I want what we do to be considered and timely. Please.”
    I opened my mouth to claim that it was an excuse, but closed it again. I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t break what we’d built tonight. But oh, it hurt to watch him turn and leave the room. The door closed behind him with a decisive click. He had gone. I had it all to do again.
    But I would, I decided. By all I held holy, I would do it.

Chapter Six
    I thoroughly enjoyed my shopping expedition with Lizzie the next day. Lisbon was a beautiful city, with varied thoroughfares and lovely public buildings. Lizzie told me it was the Moorish heritage that made the difference in architecture, which gave the city an appearance unlike any other in Europe. It excited me. The colours were perhaps more vivid, the buildings. I savoured the sights and sounds, even the scents, and was determined to pin down exactly what I was experiencing. I could discuss it with Richard.
    At least we had that back.
    I’d seen him at breakfast, where we conversed as easily as we used to on the current topics of the day and how the advent of new alliances would affect Portugal and maybe the coming war. Richard was convinced war was coming, and unlike our close neighbour at home, the politician William Pitt, he deplored the necessity. “Expensive and wasteful,” Richard called it. Not to mention the heartbreak suffered by the widows and children left without a breadwinner.
    We went to visit our children. I left the nursery in excellent spirits, which only continued as Lizzie and I forgot all our troubles, in the manner of women from time immemorial, and enjoyed the sights of the city and the excellent shops. I returned with a pretty new fan, a few trinkets and the sense that my strength was returning. I decided to forego my afternoon nap in favour of a quiet hour spent studying the Portuguese language and learning a few key phrases, including my new address.
    On our tour of the