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finally broke the tension. “I understand. If you’ll excuse me, I should make sure that Lady Eleanora is ready for her lesson with you, sir, ” she said, the last word practically iced over.
    He didn’t want this distance between them. He couldn’t quite explain why, but it was very important to him that Miss Woodward like him and trust him as much as he already trusted her. It was a dangerous prospect, given the way his body reacted to her with a force he hadn’t felt in years, but in that moment, nothing seemed more important.
    He shot to his feet just as she turned to leave. Without thinking, his hand fell on her wrist. A charge bolted through him as skin connected with skin. It was like standing in the middle of a lightning storm, feet rooted to the ground and unable to do a damn thing about it.
    He peered down at Miss Woodward, hoping to God she felt it too. That he wasn’t the only one who seemed unable to shake this insanity.
    Her lips parted, and her eyes fixed on the spot where his hand circled her wrist. Yes. She must feel the same low swoop of desire that had settled in his chest.
    â€œMiss Woodward,” he started softly.
    She tilted her head back, bringing those open lips tantalizingly close to his. It would be nothing to close the gap between them—just a little bend of the knees and a tilt of his head. Then he could taste the rose of her lips, relishing the slide of them against his. She was bold enough she would kiss him back immediately—he felt certain of it. Or maybe she’d slide her tongue into his mouth and stroke it over his, tempting him to deepen the kiss, indulging in this passion that seemed to pull them along like a current.
    There was so much to learn about this woman. He wanted to know the soft give of her hips when he dug his fingers into them and the weight of her unbound breasts in his hands. He wished he could shuck off her clothing, peel away all the bothersome layers she wore until she was laid bare before him. But mostly he ached to bury himself deep in her, her muscles clenching around him, urging him on.
    It had been so long since he’d wanted a woman with this force. When his wife died, his daughter had become the center of his world. He’d had no desire to remarry after the unhappy mess of his union with Lucinda. Eleanora, therefore, would have no mother, so he’d decided that it was his responsibility to make sure that she never wanted. While most of his friends from Eton were still carousing, he’d thrown himself into finding the best nurse and then the best governess. Instead of women or horses or cards, he’d preoccupied himself with teaching Eleanora how to ride and fish between sessions with his estate manager and his man of business. He didn’t regret any of it, but standing so close to a beautiful woman made him wonder if maybe he should have made time for passion.
    Miss Woodward’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he wondered if delicious, dirty thoughts were flitting through her active mind. Had someone ever kissed her? Ever made her feel like she was the most important woman in the world? The only woman?
    This is wrong.
    His thumb skimmed the bare skin of her wrist. It was the only touch he would get, and he’d have to treasure it. He couldn’t have Miss Woodward. He couldn’t stoop to his father’s level, lifting the skirts of servants and women who weren’t free to say no. She deserved more than that, and so did he.
    â€œLord Asten,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “will you please let me pass?”
    He dropped her hand as though it was a white-hot poker. “Of course.”
    â€œThank you,” she said, dipping her head so that he could no longer read her expression.
    â€œI apologize. I shouldn’t have laid a hand on you.”
    Nor should I have imagined what it would be like to have you bent over the sofa’s arm.
    â€œThat’s quite