"Lovers?"

"Yes."

"And how am I looking at you?"

"Like you'd rather be licking me than your blueberry ice."

Not a hint of repentance gleamed in his eyes. "I would rather be licking you." After spooning up another bit of ice, he added, "I think you'd prefer that as well."

The degree to which she'd prefer that actually frightened her. "You're melting my blueberry ice," she warned with a breathless laugh.

"Good. The sooner it's gone, the sooner we can leave." He pressed his leg more firmly against hers. "And the sooner I can make you melt."

She spooned a bit of the delicious ice between her lips, reveling in the rapt manner his avid gaze devoured the movement. Something about the contrast of their outwardly polite demeanor and the sensual undercurrents throbbing between them excited her in a way she'd never before experienced.

After she swallowed, she said softly, "And the sooner I can make you melt."

He went perfectly still, his spoon suspended midway between his bowl and his mouth. He drew in a slow, deep breath, then carefully set his spoon back in his still half-full bowl. "Let's go."

"Go?" She adopted her most innocent air and batted her eyelashes. "But I haven't finished my ice."

"I'll buy you another one tomorrow." He stood and held out his hand. The smoldering look in his eyes left no doubt that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. And as soon as possible.

She intended to see to it that he didn't have long to wait.

She gave her lips a dainty pat with her napkin, then placed her hand in his to arise. Surrounding herself with her usual air of proper dignity, she allowed him to escort her to his carriage. With his gaze never leaving hers, he took the seat opposite then gave the driver the signal to depart. As soon as they began to move, he flicked the velvet curtains closed.

"Come here," he said, his voice a low growl.

Instead of complying, she reached out and unfastened his breeches. He watched her through half-closed eyes, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. When the buckskin placard opened, she wrapped her fingers around his erection and gently squeezed.

He sucked a harsh breath. "Carolyn…"

A pearl of fluid glistened on the tip, and with a single fingertip she slowly spread the moisture over the head. Never had she behaved in such a bold manner outside the bedchamber. But something about this man and his passionate reactions to her brought out a daring, adventurous spirit she hadn't previously known she'd possessed. An untouched spirit whose emergence was clearly aided by the sensual images her readings of the Memoirs had embedded in her mind. The Anonymous Lady had described, in detail, the joys of making love in a moving carriage. According to the Memoirs, it was an experience not to be missed, and Carolyn had no intention of doing so.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she brought her finger to her lips and brushed her tongue over the tip, tasting the salty tang of his essence. Her womb clenched at the fire that blazed in his eyes.

"Carolyn…" Her name was a harsh groan filled with need and want. "Come here."

This time she complied, and rose from her seat. Before she so much as blinked, his hands slipped beneath her gown and skimmed up the backs of her thighs to cup her bare bottom and draw her closer. She gasped at the contact, at his kneading, caressing fingers. Bracing one hand on his shoulders, she straddled his thighs, used her other hand to guide him to the opening of her body, and slowly rubbed the velvety head of his erection along her wet, swollen folds. The musky scent of her arousal and his heat filled her head, along with his low growl of pleasure.

Unable to wait any longer to feel him inside her, she sank down, a slow, slick impalement that pulsed sweet, hot pleasure through her. When he was buried to the hilt, so deep she swore he touched her heart, his splayed fingers clenched on her bottom, pressing her tighter against him.

"Carolyn…"

The way he said her name, a cross between a prayer and a growl, touched something deep inside her. And there was only one response.

"Daniel." She shifted against him. "You feel so… oh, my." Her words dissolved into nothingness when he flexed his hips and embedded himself deeper.

"You feel so… incredibly good," he whispered, leaning forward to graze her neck with his teeth.

Spurred on by his words, she slowly rose, then sank down again, her movements aided by the gentle rocking of the carriage. And then she was lost in the pleasure of her downward strokes and his increasingly demanding upward thrusts. Their pace quickened, both of them straining, panting, seeking the deep next stroke. Her climax exploded, and with a cry she couldn't contain, her body arched as the tremors throbbed through her. With a fierce groan, Daniel ground his hips into hers and she felt him pulse inside her.

Limp and breathless, with delightful ripples still shivering through her, Carolyn melted against him. She rested her forehead against his, and their rapid breaths mingled, fanning her overheated face.

"I give you my word," he said, his words husky and unsteady, "that I will, very soon, seduce you slowly. I swear it has been my intention, but you keep disrupting all my fine plans."

"Are you scolding me?"

"Yes, although by 'scolding' I actually mean 'don't ever stop.'" He slipped his hands from beneath her gown and framed her face between his palms. He looked into her eyes with an expression she couldn't decipher, then slowly leaned forward. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss that tasted sweet and delicious, flavored with blueberry ice. He ended the kiss as slowly he'd started it, then lifted an edge of the curtain to cast a quick look out the window.

"We'll be home soon."

She heaved a sigh and wriggled against him. "Which means I have to move."

His lips twitched. "Not necessarily. My staff knows not to open the door until I draw back the curtains."

His words stilled her. She knew he meant them only to reassure her that they wouldn't be caught in dishabille, but they also made it patently obvious that while making love in a carriage was a new experience for her, it wasn't for him.

A jolt of something that felt exactly like jealousy stabbed her, and she inwardly scowled at the ridiculous sensation. She knew he'd had previous lovers-many of them, according to everything she'd heard. She also knew he'd have more lovers after their liaison ended-a realization that seized her insides with an uncomfortable sensation that resembled a cramp.

She tried to shove aside her thoughts as she moved off him. Accepted his proffered handkerchief to wipe away the evidence of their spent passion. Rearranged her skirts while he realigned his clothing.

Yet her disturbing thoughts continued and a frown puckered her brow. It didn't matter how many women came before her, or how many would come after her. Or if he made love to them in his carriage. It didn't matter at all. Not one bit. This was nothing more than a temporary affair. Edward was the love of her life. Daniel-and the Memoirs-had merely brought her passions back to the surface, and naturally they'd be strong at the moment, after having been suppressed for so long. Her mind knew it, yet somehow the area surrounding her heart still felt… bruised.

"Carolyn? Is something wrong?"

She blinked away her unsettling musings and looked at him. Noticed the concern clouding his blue eyes. And before she could stop herself, she said, "You've done this before."

The instant the words passed her lips, she wished she could recall them. It was none of her concern, and truth be known, she didn't want to know. Especially if she and their tryst lacked in comparison.

His gaze searched hers then he said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words, "As I've no desire to lie to you, I won't deny I've… had relations in a carriage before." Then he leaned forward and grasped her hands, squeezing them tightly, his serious eyes pinning her in place. "But I've never wanted any woman as much as I want you, Carolyn. I said that I make you melt, but the truth of the matter is that you make me melt. Every time you touch me." He raised her hand and pressed an ardent kiss against her palm. "Please do not ever compare yourself to any other woman, because you are absolutely incomparable. In every way."

To her mortification, hot moisture pooled behind her eyes. She blinked it away then gave a quick laugh, one comprised mostly of relief. "Even though I disrupt all your fine plans?"

He smiled. "Actually, because you disrupt all my fine plans. In the most delightful ways."

Of course he tells every woman that, her inner voice taunted. She shoved aside the irritating voice with another forceful reminder that this was nothing more than a temporary arrangement with a very charming man who would soon move on to the next woman who caught his fancy. So she'd concentrate only on the here and now and enjoy her time with him while it lasted.

"In that case," she said, "do you have any plans for the next hour or so?"

"All my plans for the rest of day involve only pleasing you." He waggled his brows. "What did you have in mind?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his exaggerated lascivious expression. "Do you ever think of anything besides… that?"

"Of course. Only a moment ago I was wondering what you wore to bed at night."

She tried to suppress a laugh and failed. "I'm afraid that qualifies as a sensual matter."

"No, that is a clothing matter." His gaze wandered over her. "So… what do you wear to bed?"

"I couldn't possibly tell you. After all, a woman must have her secrets."