My breath caught as I waited for the instinctive panic, for the sheer horror that my realization was sure to bring forth. Before it could, he leaned forward once again and captured the other nipple between his quirked lips.
My head fell back again, but this time Kit’s free hand was there waiting, slipping between my crown and the wall. He cradled the nape of my neck as he set about removing every other thought from my head with his lips and tongue and delightfully inquisitive fingers.
But even as he brought me to the edge of sanity, even as my fingers tangled in his curls, refusing to allow him a breath, his hand was a steady, sure presence.
Kit was quite thoroughly demonstrating that there was more to him than I had ever thought. But he was stillKit. And I was always safe with him.
“Davina…” The word was barely audible, probably not even intended for me to hear, but my body reacted instinctively to my graveled name. The sensitive cleft of my legs longing for his thigh once again.
I yanked inelegantly on his hair, pulling him to his feet with a demanding, “Up.”
He allowed me to drag him about as he always did, offering little more than a chuckle, edged with self-satisfaction.
With his thumb—on the hand protecting me from self-injury—he brushed my temple. He gazed at me with the same adoration from earlier, and now that I saw the expression closer, I realized it was entirely familiar. He wore it often around me. This feeling—the one I wasn’t willing to name, even in my head—wasn’t new for him.
Those thoughts… They were too much for me. “You’re supposed to be kissing me.”
His smile came back, full and bright, and he pressed it to my lips. This kiss was inelegant but filled with something like joy. And over far too quickly, in spite of my efforts to keep him where he belonged.
“We should stop, Davina. We need to talk. And we shouldn’t do this here.”
“I don’t want to talk.” Even I heard the petulant whine in my tone, but it seemed that once the dam had broken Kit was rather free with his smiles. This wasn’t a full one, it was more indulgent than the bright grin I’d received earlier.
“It’s a shame that you cannot abduct me into ravishing you, then.”
“You want me, I can feel it.” And I could, pressing against my hip. Intriguing in all its mysteries.
“Where did…” He shook his head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Of course I want you, I’ve spent two-thirds of this damned trip trying to ensure youdidn’tnotice how much I want you. That doesn’t change the fact that we need to talk. And I’m not going to tup a lady against the wall of this ridiculous house.”
“Even if the lady wishes it?”
“Christ… Not the first time, Davina. And not at all until after we’ve talked. Rationally. With space between us.” His gaze flicked down and a groan broke free. He set about righting my corset and dress with a reluctant little whine when he traced the—now proper—cut of my bodice. “And many more layers on you. Do you have a pelisse? Can you wear it with a spencer underneath?”
“Absolutely not. If you insist on putting a stop to our fun, I insist on making it as difficult for you as possible.”
“Little menace,” he grumbled as his forehead fell against my neck. His breath brushed against my chest reminding me of precisely where his lips had been mere moments ago. I very much regretted interrupting him now that he had seen sense.
Always responsible Mr. Summers… Though he certainly hadn’t been responsible with his tongue trailing devilish delights along my breasts, now tightening at the ghost of a memory. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
“I’ve worked hard to ensure you have no such reputation,” he murmured, his lips brushing along my neck with the whisper.With a thick swallow, he pulled back, his lidded gaze sweeping up and down my form. “Devastating,” he breathed, shaking his head.
“A devastating mess,” I added, patting the tangles atop my head. It was likely that my hair fared better than his, but only by virtue of having a more manageable natural state. His curls tumbled around his jaw in fuzzy, ill-defined ringlets, a chestnut lion’s mane.He is the devastating one.
“You’re breathtaking and you know it.” Kit tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before pulling back. His hand trailed down my neck, shoulder, arm, to twirl his fingers in mine. With a feigned grunt, he pulled me off the wall and turned to examine the room we’d found.
It was the first time I recalled the world outside of Kit in some time—minutes, hours, days, eons—who cared? We had found a study. And if the massive mahogany desk was any indication, a study belonging to someone who believed the size of the desk indicated the import of the man behind it.
It was cleared of paperwork, nothing like Kit’s usual cluttered piles in his offices. Behind it were neat shelves with aesthetically pleasing books. Unlike the other room we had explored, there were no cobwebs lining the corners. Someone was using this room—even if they hadn’t enough work to cover the desk’s surface.
There was a single window beside the desk, fortunately without a direct line of sight to the space beside the door. The walls had been papered a deep hunter-green stripe and the curtains were a heavy velvet. Even they bore no hint of dust.
“Why is this room so much cleaner than the others?” I mused.
“I was wondering that myself.” Kit dropped my hand to sidle behind the desk and tug on a drawer. It didn’t budge. He tried another to the same effect. “All locked.”
I studied the bookshelf with vague disinterest. Not a single tome had a spine cracked. They were here to be seen, not read. I let my fingernail tap as I dragged it along the spines,click, click, click.
And then my nail caught, just a bit, barely noticeable, really. It had tripped on the barely bent spine ofThe Mysteries of Udolpho. I slid it from the shelf. It was suspiciously light for the thickness, and I knew.
