Those Eyes...

She took the chance. Jessalyn left the library and rushed past the dining room, up the stairs, then started down the corridor towards her room. Alright, so far so good. All she had to do was wait until Eric was occupied, and then she could do what she pleased. Find Timothy, talk with him a little, maybe set up one of their secret night-time meetings with Rachel that he had grown fonder and fonder of in the past couple years. And if she couldn't find Timothy, she'd go riding. Or take a walk around the gardens, or maybe take the carriage and go into town for shopping... visit some people... As she thought of all the different things she could do that didn't involve seeing Eric, her heart lightened and her step quickened. Yes, there were plenty of things she could do. Plenty of distractions, plenty of things to keep her busy. Better to be busy than to be wasting her time daydreaming over one man who was... probably going to turn out just like all the rest. It was just a matter of statistics and--

She barely controlled a startled jump when she blinked and Eric was suddenly right in front of her, his stance and expression perfectly polite and gentlemanly but his eyes... Oh, his eyes, they had that look again! She glanced up into them and then quickly look down at his nose instead. But that hardly did any good because when he spoke, telling her that she was quite the distraction in the study that morning, she realized... His voice was like a vocal expression of his eyes. There was just as much intensity dripping in his words as in his eyes. Oh, God... she suddenly felt the need to get herself to a church...! But she stood her ground, letting him kiss her hand in greeting and then licking her lips as she responded to him. "My apologies again, Mr. Banning. Like I told my father... I was just excited about finally getting to see your sister today. You know how fond Emily and I are of each other. Almost like real sisters."

He let a small chuckle escape from his chest. Yes, she and his sister were very close. Impossibly so, in fact. He never did understand how two women could talk for so long about things as unimportant as decorated fabric. Then again, women's fascinations with clothing were what kept his father, and by extension him, in business. He smiled, the charming little heart-fluttering smile his mother had always told him he had. The one only Jessalyn ever saw nowadays. 

"I'm glad you are excited, Miss. My sister, Im sure, is just as excited to see you." He took a step towards her, moving their bodies closer together. She stepped back. He stepped closer. His eyes were on hers for a moment, but it wasn't long before they began to wander down. Over her neck, her collar, her chest. He kept moving closer, keeping their bodies no more than six inches away. He couldn't have explained why he was doing this. The close proximity, the silent cornering. He felt her body heat, heard her quickened breaths. He realized his breaths were just as quick and shallow. His heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn't think. It was too difficult to hear logical thought over the blood rushing in his head. 

Eric lifted his eyes from her body to her eyes. Anything she said he could hardly hear. She was against the wall now, no space for her to move away from him. They were so close. Just another step and he could press her sultry curves against his own body. His skin burned and he could feel the blood pooling in his lower abdomen. To be this close to her yet unable to have his way with her was so frustrating and yet so overwhelmingly exciting. Eric's hand lifted. He wasn't sure where he'd meant it to go, but he was certain it was no where innocent. Taking a quick deep breath he forced back control of his own limbs. Instead of touching her he slowly pressed his palm against the wall, his arm centimeters from her perfect waist. He kept his hand there stiffly, forcing his body a safe distance away from hers. 

His right hand, not as under control as his left, lifted to touch the soft sensitive skin below her wrists. His feverish skin against hers left his head spinning and his skin tingling. It was addicting. She was harder to quit than any drug. Even now, as little as he touched her, he knew it wasnt enough, and feared his body's dissatisfaction would be more than obvious...