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He released her and tugged his shirt over his head, ruffling his dark hair. The shirt drifted down to lie in a crumpled heap next to his other clothing.

“Oh, my heavens,” she whispered, any more eloquent expression eluding her. Almost in a daze, she drank in the smooth golden skin of arms and chest, the scatter of dark hair across his pectoral muscles, hair arrowing down to his waistband.

He was utterly irresistible.

Hesitantly, she placed a trembling hand in the center of his chest. He was like sun-warmed rock under her palm. Her lips parted in sensual delight as she stroked downward, stopping just short of where she knew he wanted her.

With brief amusement, she recalled how she’d assumed a rogue of his decadent reputation would be pale and weak from too many late nights, too much brandy, and too many women. If that regimen resulted in this superb specimen, every doctor in the country should recommend it.

He surveyed her out of lazy dark green eyes. “You look like the cat who got the cream.”

“The cream is still waiting.” Distantly, she wondered where the confident woman came from. This siren couldn’t be busy, clever Diana Carrick, virtuous widow from Marsham.

“Does that mean you’ll lick away every morsel?” The hint of laughter didn’t hide the gruffness in his voice.

Diana’s heart slammed against her ribs. The prospect of licking him all over intensified the throbbing between her legs. “Only if you beg.”

His laugh trickled down her backbone like fine wine would slip down her throat. “You’re suddenly very cocksure.”

“So are you.” Her attention focused on where he pressed against his trousers. No mistaking his heavy, seeking arousal.

His impressive chest rose on a deep breath. “I’ll make the pleasure last this time.”

Reluctantly she stopped ogling him and met eyes that held a rueful light. “An admirable ambition,” she said, with a coolness she was far from feeling.

“If you look at me like that, it’s an ambition fated for failure.”

How she enjoyed this subtle push and pull of wits between them. She ran a questing finger down his chest. “You’re stronger than you think.”

“Every man has his breaking point.”

“Hmm, I’d like to see that.”

His muscles bunched and firmed beneath her touch. “I guarantee you’ll see it.”

A few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have understood what he meant. But in preparation for her trip to London, Burnley had lent her some naughty French books. The detailed illustrations had kept her and Laura giggling and horrified for a week.

“Not yet,” he said in a rough voice. “Later.”

Startled, she glanced up, catching the excitement in his eyes as he obviously read the wicked direction of her thoughts. The way he followed her reactions so closely was thrilling. Her nipples beaded with longing as she imagined him devoting that attention to her pleasure.

“I…” She lost track of what she meant to say when he tangled his hand in her hair and tipped her face toward his.

“You’re a very beautiful woman,” he said hoarsely.

Before she could respond, his mouth descended. He hadn’t kissed her for what felt like an eon. Terrifying, really, how quickly she’d become addicted to his kisses. She sighed and gave herself up to his skillful mouth.

His tongue invaded her mouth, and her bones melted. She’d missed kissing more than she’d missed marital relations. Odd to realize it.

She closed her eyes and sank into velvety darkness. Her knees buckled, and her head swam with pleasure and lack of breath. He shifted his attention from her lips to the sensitive skin of her neck. She moaned and rocked her hips, testing his hard masculinity.

He groaned and drew apart from her. She made a wordless protest before she realized he’d only moved to tug her chemise over her head. As the silk slid away, reality intruded on her sensual dream.

She was naked. At his mercy. This encounter promised to be deeper, purer, more dangerous than what had happened in his carriage. Ruthlessly she reminded herself why she was here. It wasn’t to lose herself in Ashcroft’s attractions.

She couldn’t yield to her desperate craving. She could cope with a coldhearted seduction where both of them took what they wanted. There was nothing coldhearted in how she felt right now.

But how could she keep herself apart from him?


Tags: Anna Campbell Historical