Ivy lifted her face to the sun, enjoying the warming rays on her skin, and hoped it would dry her quickly and allow her to get dressed. Sitting on the trunk of the fallen tree, her feet dangled just above the ground below, and a few feet away, Darcy was gnawing on the stick he'd fetched from the water.

"This is incredibly scandalous," Sam muttered, leaning against the tree trunk next to her. "If someone finds us like this, there will be hell to pay."

"Don't worry," she said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "No one ever comes here. The only ones who seem to know about this spot are me and my friends."

His eyes widened in fear at the very idea of her friends finding them, and while she understood why, it still rankled her a little. He had been more than happy to kiss her last night in her father's study, a place where they would have been far more at risk of discovery.

"If any of my friends showed up—which I doubt—they would never tell anyone," she said, a note of frustration sneaking into her voice.

"Well, that's a relief." He visibly relaxed next to her.

That stung. She wished she could read his mind to find out exactly what he felt about her, about what was going on between them, but his face was a closed book with no title. He fastidiously avoided looking at her, his gaze trained on Darcy and the stick.

When she said nothing, he seemed to realise he had hurt her feelings, because he threw her a quick glance before looking away again. He cleared his throat. "Ivy. About last night..."

"Yes?" He was going to tell her it was a mistake, wasn't he? That it should never have happened and that she should not expect anything from him going forward.

"I'm sorry for ambushing you like that. It was badly done of me." His fingers raked through his hair, mussing it up.

"You don't need to apologise," she said. "I enjoyed it. Quite a bit."

His hazel eyes flew back to hers, and she could feel a telltale blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I know I probably shouldn't admit to that," she mumbled, her fingers nervously pulling on the damp fabric of her chemise. "But it's the truth."

"No, that's—" He stopped and cleared his throat again. "That's all right. I enjoyed it too, but it doesn't make it right. I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

Looking back over at Darcy, who had finished chewing the stick into tiny pieces and was now resting in the sunshine, happy with his accomplishment, she contemplated what Sam was trying to say. If she understood correctly—and she suspected she did—he was warning her he wasn't looking for a wife. He wasn't seeking to court her. It was disappointing, but she was hardly surprised.

"You're not taking advantage of me," she said. "You need not worry that I expect anything from you."

Looking back at him, she tilted her head to the side slightly as she regarded his handsome form. Of course a man like him wouldn't want a wife like her. She was too boisterous and too uninhibited. Even the villagers of Tilbury mostly just tolerated her presence. It would be far different for someone to marry her and have to put up with her constantly.

"Are you a rake?" The words left her mouth before she could stop them, but his shocked expression was almost worth it.

"Excuse me?" He straightened slightly, the corners of his mouth lowering as if the question affronted him.

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I was merely curious if you make a habit of kissing young ladies during your travels."

There was a moment's silence before he shook his head. "No," he drawled, his hazel eyes not leaving hers. "It is not my habit."

Excitement bubbled low in her abdomen. He might not be looking for a wife, but he liked her enough to kiss her even when he knew he shouldn't. It was almost like an illicit affair in a novel, and she rather loved the idea of the secrecy. It certainly beat the usual dreary days in Tilbury where nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.

Feeling unusually brazen, she placed her hands on the log and leaned back slightly so she could swing her legs in the air. It probably didn't look nearly as coy as she had hoped with her damp dress and her hair plastered against her head, but it was the best she could do.

"Then why did you kiss me?" she asked, both wanting to tease him and wanting to know why he had.

Her cheeks heated as his gaze travelled down her form, resting a moment too long where her bosom pushed against the clinging, wet fabric. Taking a step closer, he lifted a hand to stroke back a lock of hair clinging to her cheek, and for a moment she might have forgotten how to breathe.

"Because, Ivy," he said slowly, his hand lingering next to her ear, sending tingles of awareness across her skin. "I can't seem to stay away from you."

"Then don't." It was little more than a whisper, but it was enough for him to lean closer. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

But instead of kissing her, he groaned and pulled back. Disappointment washed over her and suddenly the wet dress felt cold and clammy, despite the sunshine. Her head dropped, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "That was far too brazen."

"No, it's..." He cursed silently and raked a hand through his hair again. "I don't think you understand how enticing you are right now. That chemise is barely covering you, and..."

With another curse, he unbuttoned his riding jacket and shrugged it off. With a smooth movement, he wrapped it around her, leaving it loosely sitting on her shoulders. It was far too big for her, but it was warm and comforting and smelled lightly of him.

"I'm only a man," he muttered, half to himself. "I can't be expected to withstand every temptation."

Sliding her arms into the sleeves, she flashed him a grateful smile. She wanted to say that she didn't want him to withstand the temptation, but her bravery had abandoned her, so she busied herself by playing with a button on his jacket.

Sam remained silent for a while, the only sounds around them the soft rustle of the trees, the birds singing, and the relaxed cadence of Darcy's breathing behind them.

"Ivy," he finally said, his voice soft. "It's just... I'm not staying in Tilbury, and I don't want to make any promises I cannot keep."

"I appreciate your honesty." She kept her gaze on her lap, not quite ready to look at him. "And as I said, I expect nothing from you. All I wanted was some kisses. I know that's absolutely scandalous of me to admit, but Tilbury is terribly dull. This is the most excitement I've had in my life. If I don't find a husband—and the prospects quite honestly aren't great—I will most likely never leave here. I will stay with my parents and care for them as they age. So all I wanted was a few moments with you to warm me through the future to come."

"That's..." He hesitated a moment before starting over. "You're a lovely young woman. I'm sure you will find a husband."

She smiled wryly. "In case you haven't noticed, Tilbury is not exactly brimming with eligible bachelors."

"It will be for Ravenscroft's ball."

He was obviously trying to be helpful to comfort her, but she didn't want him to. She wanted him to want her for himself. That would not happen, but couldn't he at least kiss her?

"I don't mind my future," she said. "I'm resigned to the idea of never marrying. All I want are some stolen kisses. That's not too terrible of me to want, is it? No one would ever have to know. But if you don't want to kiss me, I understand. I just thought—"

A choking sound from Sam stemmed her words, and she stared up at him. She couldn't tell whether he was trying not to laugh or was in physical pain from how agonising this discussion was.

"Dear lord, Ivy," he finally got out. "Please stop."

What must he think of her? This was far too brazen and honest. Her mother always cautioned her about her tendency to blurt out her every thought. She grabbed a fistful of her damp chemise in her hand and squeezed it between her fingers. Why did she never think before speaking?

"I'm sorry."

There was a barely perceptible twitch at the corners of Sam's mouth. "You do seem to be sorry a lot."

Her life was a series of apologies for all sorts of things. She couldn't quite put her finger on why it was, but she had always felt a little like she was an outsider. Like she didn't quite belong and people only tolerated her presence because they had to. She knew it was mostly in her head, but it was a difficult feeling to get rid of. And so she apologised. For everything. All the time. Because in the back of her head, she feared that if she did not, everyone would suddenly admit they didn't want her around.

She squeezed the fabric in her hand a little tighter. When Sam's hand covered hers, she nearly jumped. It was warm and dry against her skin, which was still cool from her swim, and somehow it calmed her nerves.

"Ivy," he said, shaking his head slightly even as a smile threatened to break through. "I do want to kiss you. Very much so. It's just not a good idea. I would never want to hurt you, and I know I cannot ever be what you deserve."

"I'm not sure I deserve all that much," she muttered, "but you should not put yourself down. You're wonderful."

Realising what she'd said, her cheeks burned, but his smile soothed her worries.

"Thank you." He sighed a little. "The truth is that I'm nothing but a former soldier who has earned his living as a butler the last few years. Army earnings and selling my commission earned me a decent sum, but I could never offer you the lifestyle you are used to."

"My father used to be a solicitor, our stations in life are not so far apart."

Shifting so he stood in front of her, with her knees grazing his lower abdomen, he cupped her cheek. "You're the one who's wonderful," he said gently. "In coming here, I never thought I'd meet someone I would take such an instant liking to. And trust me, I desperately wish things were different..."

Emboldened by his words, she placed her palm against his chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt and waistcoat, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. She wished things were different, too.

"Whatever your reasons for not wanting more," she whispered. "Can we at least kiss one more time?"

His hands gripped the lapels of the riding jacket still wrapped around her. "How could I ever resist such an invitation?"

Before she could reply, he tugged on the jacket, pulling her close enough to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. He was a warm furnace compared to her chilled body, and she instinctively wanted to get closer to steal his heat. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she buried her fingers in the soft hair at the back of his head while she leaned into his embrace.

Her body slowly warmed as he continued kissing her, his tongue stealing across her lips to explore further. A glowing ember inside her abdomen burned hotter with every stroke of his tongue, spreading warmth through her limbs until her entire body felt as if it was on fire. Wanting him closer still, she instinctively moved her knees, allowing him to step closer, the skirt of her chemise riding up on her thighs to accommodate him. His hands slid down her back to cup her bottom, and when he pulled her against him, she could feel something hard against the apex of her thighs.

A spear of pleasure shot through her when he moved her against him, his hard length nudging against her secret desire. Wrenching her mouth from his, she couldn't hold back a low moan. Sam stopped, but still held her there, their bodies flush against each other with only the fabric of his riding breeches separating them. It was incredibly scandalous and were anyone to walk in on them now, she would be ruined without a doubt, and yet she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

Sam bent down to bury his face against her neck. Shifting against her, sending another jolt of pleasure reverberating through her body, he groaned.

"Hell, Ivy..." His hot breath tickled her skin. "This is dangerous. We must stop."

She knew he was right, but she didn't want to admit it. These new sensations were far too alluring. Moving against him, she bit her lower lip to hold back another moan as the pleasure intensified. No wonder young ladies were so easily ruined if this was what awaited them. She shifted again, but Sam's hands wrapped around her waist and held her still.

Lifting his head to meet her gaze, he gave her a lopsided smile. "No more. We have to be sensible."

Sensible sounded dreadfully boring, but she nodded nonetheless. He didn't kiss her again, but he also didn't move away, leaving her knees on either side of his waist. The hands on her hips were warm, and she wished he had touched her more before stopping. She wanted to know what it felt like to have a man's hands explore her body. No. Sam's hands.

When he still didn't move, she tilted her head to the side to observe him. He was busy staring over her shoulder at nothing in particular, and she couldn't help but hope he was battling with himself because he wanted to keep going as much as she did.

His fingers on her hips tightened for a moment before he let her go and took a step back. It might be the wise thing to do, but she still wished he hadn't. Smoothing the skirt of her chemise back down over her knees, she tried not to let the disappointment show on her face.

After taking another step away—was he making sure she didn't launch herself at him?—Sam shifted from one foot to the other before clearing his throat. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was... I shouldn't have let it get that far."

"Now you're the one constantly saying sorry," she pointed out, earning her a quick grin.

"Apparently." He chuckled quietly as he shook his head slightly. "Oh, Ivy. What are you doing to me?"

"Only good things, I hope," she quipped.

The fire burning in his eyes sent a wild burst of butterfly wings fluttering in her abdomen. She swallowed. He may not wish to marry her, but even she could tell that he wanted her, and it was exciting and a little intimidating at the same time.

"I must leave," he said. "Before I kiss you again."

That didn't sound all too bad, but he obviously wanted to leave, so she wouldn't stop him. "What of your jacket?" she asked.

"Keep it for now." He smiled wryly. "I don't trust my ability to resist you if you take it off."

It took everything she had not to throw the jacket on the ground right then and there, but apparently, she still possessed some level of sense, because she remained still where she was.

"I will see you at Ravenscroft's ball." Sam sketched a bow, and before she could say anything else, he walked over to where his horse grazed and mounted the animal. After a last look and nod in her direction, he disappeared between the trees.

Darcy perked his head up and whined.

"I know," Ivy said with a sigh. "I already miss him, too."

~~~~~~