Marble column?He was big and hard and strong, but there the comparison ended. His lips were warm on hers, gentle but firm. His thumb stroked her cheek so lightly she doubted he even realized he was doing so. Yet every caress sent flutters of desire through her belly.
When she opened her mouth to tell him so, to confess she was one mere kiss away from throwing all caution to the wind, his tongue swept inside to claim her. An electrifying bolt of desire shot through her. She felt every nudge, every lick, throughout her entire body.
She pressed herself against him to muffle the arousal tickling her skin, but the opposite occurred. With her bosom against his chest and his hands deep in her hair, their kiss was no longer tentative but a tidal wave of emotion that had just been waiting to be released.
All the times she’d glanced over at him beneath her eyelashes and wondered what it would be like to taste him? She was tasting him now. Gorging herself on his kisses. All the times his hand had brushed hers, all the brief “accidental” touches, all the times he had almost kissed her but held himself back? He wasn’t holding back now. He was taking, demanding, giving, pleading. Two souls caught in a tug-of-war betweenwe shouldn’t be doing thisandI never want to stop.
When she gasped for breath, his thumb stroked her cheek.
“Do you want me to stop?” His lips brushed hers.
She wrapped her hands about his neck. “Aren’t you supposed to disregard what I want, shove me against the closest wall, and have your wicked way?”
He nibbled her lip. “Why would that work? No one wants to slam into a wall.”
“You’re the one who reads gothic novels,” she reminded him between kisses. “Why would exposing my bosom by ripping open my bodice ever work? Stays are lined with whalebone.”
“Are you saying I wouldn’t win a fight against a whale?” He ran his hands down her back and splayed his fingers against her ribs.
She wished his fingers would keep exploring. “I’m saying no one has ever won a fight with a corset.”
“Then you should definitely stop wearing them.” He picked her up and swung her over to the sofa, tumbling backward so that she was the one on top. The one in control of whatever happened next.
She ran the pad of her thumb across the very beginnings of stubble along the edge of his jaw. “Azureford?”
“Adam,” he corrected, and touched her nose with his. “And you are?”
“Carole.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
He kissed her so well and for so long that she almost forgot what she’d been going to say.
“Were you going to ask me something?” he murmured.
“I was going to tell you something.” She pushed up on his chest in order to meet his eyes, and did her best to muster up a good glare. “You led me to believe you werebadat this.”
He grinned and kissed her again. “I’m enjoying this, too. It’s different with you. I can be me and you can be you and none of it matters, since no one has to know.”
For another woman, that last bit might have hit like a bucket of water. But the truth was, Carole had been thinking the same things. She had told him the truth. Shewasn’tgoing to marry. He had been equally honest. He needed a bride and it couldn’t be her.
In the meantime, whatever happened between them, stayed between them. Resigning herself to the life of a spinster did not mean she had to turn down moments like these. Until he left for good, this room would be their playground.
Just as she was dipping her head for another kiss, she caught sight of the clock out of the corner of her eye. She sprang up as if galvanized.
“Damn and blast.” She shoved a fallen chunk of hair back into her bun and tried to shake the wrinkles from her skirt. At Adam’s startled expression, she explained, “My father exits his study one time a week, and that time is… approximately five minutes ago. I have to go.”
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her reticule and dashed out the door.
“Blast blast blast,” she cursed as she raced toward her cottage.
There was no telling what might happen if Father walked into the billiard room and she wasn’t there. He wasn’t the sort to go looking for her. He might assume she was no longer interested and cease coming down from his study altogether. She would never see him again.
She skidded through the corridor, dodging questions from the housekeeper and the chambermaid and the—devil take it, why did everyone pickright nowto become inexplicably incompetent at their jobs?
When she burst into the billiard room at last, her father was just chalking his cue.
She nearly collapsed in a puddle in relief.
