Page 26 of One Winter's Night

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A shiver rippled to her toes. It had nothing to do with fright or suffering the cold and everything to do with being held in Lord Denham’s tight embrace. Against the odourless aroma of the frigid night air, she could smell his exotic cologne—the manly scent of spice and musk she found so appealing. With every inhalation, it was as if she drew the earl into her body, deep into h

er core.

“Is that understood?” he repeated when she failed to reply.

Lara nodded.

“The last thing we want to do is scare away our nocturnal visitor.” His hand slipped from her mouth, but he kept her locked in his embrace. The brush of bristles as he pressed his cheek to hers preceded the breeze of his warm breath. “Might I ask what you’re doing out of bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you thought a stroll around the orchard might help?”

The bitter wind whipping at her ankles made her shudder. “I saw someone on the path and came to investigate. What intrigues me now is how the person entered the bothy through a locked door. And what business have they with Mr Bellham?” What intrigued her more was how this man aroused such pleasant sensations from the merest touch.

“I unlocked the door in an attempt to catch the person in the act.” The heat from his body went some way to stave off the icy chill numbing her bones. “Open your legs, Miss Bennett.”

Lara swallowed down her shock. “Pardon me?”

“Open your legs for it will allow me to step that bit closer with a view to keeping you warm. It’s too cold to worry about propriety. Although if you’re caught out here with me, your grandfather will insist we wed.”

Perhaps it was fortunate he held her in his muscular prison, else her knees might have buckled. “Montague would never tell me who to marry. Besides, we are conducting an investigation. Should we not enter the bothy and discover which lady has taken to wearing gentlemen’s clothes as a disguise?”

“You noticed the feminine gait, too.” Admiration infused his tone. “I know exactly who it is. I watched her leave the house then I cut through the walled garden to make access to the bothy easier for her.”

Was Miss Mason-Jones eager to see her lost love? Was the murderer keen to rob a man of his boots? “Then should we not surprise her?”

“We?” He relinquished his grip on her waist and turned her around to face him.

Oh, Lord, she wished he hadn’t.

It wasn’t the way his eyes sparkled like blue gems beneath the moonlight that held her captive. It wasn’t his full lips or the arrogance in his arched brow and sculpted jaw. It wasn’t the power that radiated from every toned muscle or the confident way his arm snaked around her back to draw her close. It was everything combined. The rakish lock of black hair hanging over his brow. The promise of something magical in his touch. The magnetic connection that made her foolish desires seem possible.

“Are you so desperate to court danger, Miss Bennett?” The husky drawl of his voice sent her insides fluttering. He bent his head, his mouth but inches from hers. “Does your adventurous spirit long for a sudden rush of excitement?”

If his skill in the bedchamber matched his skill at flirtatious banter, then Lord Denham must be an exceptional lover. Indeed, Lara could feel her control slipping.

To regain some ground, she said, “If we hope to surprise the midnight visitor, time is of the essence, my lord. If you want to kiss me, I suggest you stop talking and do so now.”

A sinful smile curled at the corners of his mouth, one that complemented the hunger in his eyes. “I wanted to kiss you the moment we met, Miss Bennett.”

Impatience, curiosity and lust saw her grab the lapels of his greatcoat and press her lips to his. It was supposed to be a chaste brushing of mouths. Desire’s first greeting, first nervous hello. But those initial strokes back and forth awakened an impetuous passion, a burning need to satisfy the loneliness within.

Lord Denham angled his head and crushed her in his embrace. With expert skill, he teased her lips apart, slipped his wet tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss. The tantalising dance seduced her mind and body. Every nerve tingled. Her sex pulsed. Heat journeyed like brandy’s scorching trail from her lips to her core.

He moaned into her mouth. His hands edged lower to grip her buttocks as he moved against her in a suggestive rhythm. The masculine essence of the man sent her head spinning. All-consuming need left her clutching at his coat like a wild wanton.

Bless the saints!

Oh, a lady might easily lose herself in this blissful dream—in this unique and highly arousing fantasy of lust and love. Indeed, she might have remained there all night. The heat from his hands meant she was in no danger of freezing.

As they parted, their misty breath mingled in the air.

“Your mouth is as exquisite as every other aspect of you,” he said, both hands still resting on her buttocks. “Please tell me you agree it would be criminal not to explore our growing attraction.”

Lara looked up as snow started falling like feathers from heaven. Attraction was too tame a word. Something magical happened when they were together—something she had never experienced with another living soul. Such was the power of it she could barely breathe in his presence. Clearly he felt it, too.

“On the subject of all things criminal,” she began, pausing to taste his mouth once more, “we should attend to the lady hiding in the bothy. Perhaps when the coroner has been, and he’s resolved this dreaded mess, we might debate the addictive connection that exists between us.”


Tags: Adele Clee Historical