"I thought I might find you here," he said softly.
"You wished to speak to me?"
No. I wish to strip that gown from your luscious body, then run my tongue all over you. And when I've finished tasting you, I want to-
He shook his head to clear it. "Speak to you? Er, yes."
"About last evening?"
"Er, yes." Good God, he sounded like a nodcock, but he hadn't expected such forthrightness. Yet, he should have from her.
She nodded once, briskly. "Excellent, for I wish to discuss it as well. I should not have departed your home in so abrupt a manner. You'd shown great generosity to both myself and Hubert and I apologize."
"There is no need for you to-"
"I've thought extensively on the matter, and I quite understand why you said what you did."
"You do?"
"Yes. After all, you couldn't very well tell me the truth. Yet while I appreciate your effort to-"
He brushed a single finger over her lips, cutting off her words. "What do you mean by the truth! Are you suggesting I lied to you?"
She puckered her brow and pursed her lips, clearly considering his question. "Lied, I believe, is too strong a word. Fibbed is perhaps better. I realize you were only trying to be polite, but in the future, I would prefer you not utter such drivel."
He knew immediately what she referred to. How was it possible that this incredible, unique woman had no inkling of her own appeal?
"I did not lie to you. Or fib." Bringing her hand to his lips, he feathered a kiss across her fingers. Then, sliding his other arm around her, he drew her closer, until her breasts brushed his shirt.
"You are lovely," he said softly, watching her steadily, willing her to read the sincerity in his gaze, in his voice. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, as if she wanted to believe him but could not, and he ached with the need to show her, tell her, make her understand. "I do not say that to be polite, but because it's true."
He drew both her hands to his chest, pressing her palms over his rapidly beating heart. Then, trailing a single fingertip slowly down her cheek, he murmured, "Take your skin, for example. It's smooth. Flawless. Like the finest silk."
"I have freckles on my nose."
A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "I know. And they're utterly charming." He captured a wayward curl between his fingers. "And your hair is-"
"Unruly."
"Shiny. Soft." He brought the curl to his face and inhaled. "Fragrant." Reaching out, he slowly removed her spectacles, tucking them in his jacket pocket. "And then there are your eyes. They're extraordinary. Large and expressive. Warm and intelligent. Did you know they sparkle like aquamarines when you smile? Did you know your smile could light a darkened room?" She stared at him, blinked twice, then simply shook her head.
His gaze wandered down to her mouth, and his pulse jumped. Slowly tracing the rim of her lips with a single fingertip, he whispered, "Your mouth is… fascinating. Luscious. Kissable." Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, then kissed a slow trail across her jaw.
When he reached her ear, he gently captured the lobe between his teeth, enjoying the shiver that rippled through her. Inhaling deeply, her fragrance infused him, seeping through him like a drug.
"Your scent," he whispered against her soft neck, "is beyond lovely. Even if I live to be one hundred, I shall never smell honey again and not think of you. It's tantalizing. Tempting." He touched his tongue to her fragrant skin and a groan escaped him. "Tormenting. So many't' words to describe one woman."
A shaky moan rumbled in her throat, and he leaned back to gaze at her flushed face. "Lovely," he reiterated firmly. "In every way. Inside and out. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. And don't you ever believe otherwise."
She stared at him, wide-eyed and silent. Her hands rested on his shirt, radiating heat across his chest, down his abdomen, and into his groin. With her soft body pressed against his from chest to knee, he knew she felt his arousal. But he wanted her to. Wanted her to feel the undeniable evidence of his desire, the physical proof of the sincerity of his words.
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "No one has ever said such things to me before."
"I find that impossible to believe. But I recall we agreed last evening that most people are fools."
She didn't react for several seconds, but then a smile spread slowly over her face, as if the sun were dawning, heating him until he basked in its golden glow.
"I think you're lovely as well," she whispered.
Her simple compliment washed over him, touching him in a way no other woman's words ever had. Need pulsed through him, throbbing hot in his veins, overriding his common sense, pushing aside his better judgment. One word echoed through his mind!-a mantra fueling his desire.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Unable to stop himself, he tunneled his fingers through her hair, scattering pins onto the ground until her chestnut tresses sifted freely over his skin. The scent of her engulfed him, flooding his senses, drowning his reason. Lowering his head, he kissed her slowly, deeply, his tongue sliding into her silky mouth then retreating in a sensual dance his body ached to share with her. She responded to his every move, gliding her tongue against his, combing her fingers through his hair, straining her body closer, tighter to his.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Without breaking their kiss, he moved backwards until his back bumped against a thick tree trunk. Bracing his weight against the sturdy tree, he pulled her closer, his hands slipping down to her rounded buttocks. Hauling her against his straining arousal, he slowly rubbed himself against her, shooting spears of white-hot heat through him. With a low, guttural groan burning in his throat, his hands slid up her rib cage, then forward to cup her breasts. Her soft muslin-covered flesh filled his hands, her hard nipples pressing against his palms.
Dragging his lips from hers, he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Long, feminine moans of pleasure rumbled in her throat, and she arched against him, igniting him. He slipped his fingers inside her bodice and brushed them over her distended nipples. His groan mingled with hers, and raising his head, he devoured her mouth in another searing kiss. She squirmed against him and his erection jerked in response. God help him, he wanted her. Needed her. Now. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Reaching down, he caught the hem of her gown, gathering it slowly upward. He slid his hand beneath the material, trailing his palm up her silky bare thigh. She gasped against his mouth, and he leaned back to look at her, his vision hazy with desire.
Bloody hell, she was incredible. Flushed, aroused, her lips swollen from his ardent kisses, her nipples hard beneath the thin muslin of her gown, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She was everything a man could want, and she was his for the taking. If he moved his hand, just a few inches, he could caress her feminine flesh… heated folds he knew were soft and wet. For him. And then he'd-
And then you'll what? His conscience yelled, breaking through the sensual fog enveloping him. Are you going to take her against the tree? A virgin? And if you do, then what do you plan to do with her? Marry her?
And on the heels of his outraged conscience, Arthur's words came back to him. She's innocent. Just the sort of woman who might read more meanin' into yer attentions than ye mean.
Reality hit him like a cold, wet blanket. Easing his hand from beneath her gown, he gripped her by the waist and firmly set her away from him.
Sammie dragged a much needed breath into her lungs. Heat spiraled through her, pooling between her legs. Her feminine flesh felt moist and heavy, and throbbed with an ache she'd never before experienced. A delightful ache she wanted more of.
But with the thrilling hardness of his body no longer pressing against her, she forced her eyes open. He leaned against the tree trunk, holding her at arm's length by the waist. She squinted at him, and although he was blurry, she could easily discern his labored breathing and intense expression.
Thank goodness he still held her or else she would have simply slithered to the ground in a boneless heap. Drawing several deep breaths, she tried to slow her racing pulse and gather her scattered wits.
Finally finding her voice, she asked, "Why did you stop?"
His grip on her waist tightened. "Because if I hadn't stopped then, I wouldn't have been able to." A humorless laugh passed his lips. "Believe me, the effort nearly killed me. Do you have any idea how close I came to making love to you?"
Elation swept through Sammie. Drawing upon all her courage, she whispered, "Do you have any idea how much I wanted you to?"
He went perfectly still. "We can't do this," he said in a raspy voice.
She raised her chin a notch and said the words she prayed would set her on the greatest adventure of her life.
"Why not?"
Chapter Ten
"Why not? " Eric stared at her in amazement. She watched him, her head cocked to one side, clearly waiting for him to elaborate. After what seemed an eternity, he finally cleared his throat and said, "Surely you know why we cannot take this any further. There could be repercussions-and I'm not in a position to offer you marriage."
She raised her brows. "I don't expect a proposal."
"Then what do you expect exactly?"
"That we'd share a wonderful adventure."
Eric's heart thumped so hard he could feel his blood pounding in his ears. He tried to draw a breath, but his lungs seemed compressed in his chest, as if a heavy rock sat on them.
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