“McCoy?”
“An American who traveled with us. I was pulled from the water but not before the caiman made another go at me. Scratched me with its front claws. McCoy fired into the water, though I’m not sure he could see much.” Southwell looked down into his now empty glass and immediately refilled it. “I shouldn’t have told you. It’s rather gruesome.” He gave her a sharp, angry look. “Don’t you dare pity me.”
Honora reached out and touched his hand with hers. “I don’t, Gideon. Thank you for telling me.”
“You should eat.” The side of his mouth lifted, though the sadness didn’t leave his eyes. “I didn’t bring you out here to become completely foxed.” After slicing off a bit of pear, he sat up and held the piece to her lips.
“Take a bite.” Southwell’s fingers brushed against her mouth as he fed her the sliver of fruit. “There’s a touch of juice at the corner of your mouth.” He leaned over, licking up the drop with his tongue.
Honora’s entire body flared softly. “I want to apologize for my earlier comments, which were thoughtless,” she stuttered, still feeling the press of his tongue against her skin. Opening her mouth to say more, she instead tasted the blackberry tart as he slid it between her lips.
The same hands that had killed a caiman now fed her a tart. Honora couldn’t explain, exactly, why the thought was so erotic, only that it was.
“Why do you smell like a chest of old books?” she whispered.
“I do?”
“Yes. Cedar and leather. A touch of tobacco. I find I like it.”
“You are a very odd woman.” Southwell brushed his mouth against hers. “Which I find rare and precious.”
A rush of warmth spread across her chest. This time, when he lifted a piece of the tart to her mouth, her lips closed around his finger, the sugary flavor of the tart sweet on her tongue.
“You are a sloppy eater, Honora. Look, you’ve missed a bit once more.” His words were low and husky. “Just there.” His thumb brushed over the corner of her mouth while his hand cupped her cheek, bringing her head down to his.
When he fell back against the blanket, Honora went with him. Willingly. Her lush curves fitting against the hard length of his body as if they’d come from the same mold. There was no thought of anything but the sensation of his mouth slanting over hers and the taste of the blackberry tart.
His fingers trailed slowly over the curve of one breast, stroking her idly through the fabric of her dress as he kissed her. There was no urgency in the press of his mouth or fingers, just a languid tenderness as if Honora was somehow dear to him.
Her skin pulsed gently where he touched, coming to life beneath his fingers. He slanted his mouth more firmly over hers, nipping her bottom lip until she opened for him. Sucking lightly at her tongue, he licked along the inside of her mouth until she moaned against him.
“Honora,” he purred, the vibration rippling over the skin of her neck. One of Southwell’s broad hands wandered down across her leg, rifling through her skirts. The warmth of his fingers settled at the hollow of her knee.
“Gideon,” she breathed, nearly out of her mind from only a kiss.
“You’ll enjoy this. Trust me, Honora.”
She could feel the length of him, hard as stone, searing her through her skirts and knew Southwell wanted her. But he made no move to flop her on her back and unbutton his trousers. He was taking great care with her. His fingers continued their path up her silk-covered leg, delicate and light. Honora’s breasts had begun to ache as the throbbing between her thighs intensified with every stroke of his fingers.
“Do you want me to stop, Honora?”
God no. She didn’t want this afternoon to ever end. “No. I—”
Southwell gently turned her until Honora’s back pressed against the blanket, his free arm wrapped around her shoulders. He nipped at the side of her neck, his tongue trailing along her skin until he reached her ear.
Honora trembled as a wave of sensation passed down her body.
The hand beneath her skirts skimmed lightly across the top of her thigh before he pushed her legs apart.
Honora sucked in a breath of air, self-conscious despite how aroused she was. While she was significantly less…fleshy than she’d once been, she was still…voluptuous. Culpepper had often compared her thighs to tree trunks, telling her how unappealing they were while wrenching them apart. “Gideon, my legs are—” she stuttered in a horrified voice as his fingers brushed against her underthings.
“Marvelous. Beautiful. Deliciously plump.” His mouth caught hers. “I look forward to the day I’m between them.”
Honora nearly fainted at the words, though she was mildly disappointed, given the circumstances, that Gideon wouldn’t be between her legstoday.“What are you doing?”
“Exploring.” The pressure of his fingers skimming over her underthings sent a shiver through Honora. Culpepper had never touched her in such a way. She gasped when Southwell’s forefinger found the slit in the cotton and made contact with her already damp flesh.
She looked up into the branches of the tree, spying two birds who seemed to be watching what was happening beneath them.
