He was worried… for her?
The knots in her chest eased slightly. “I thought that if I spoke to Miss French, I might be able to…”—she warned herself to tread lightly, for the last thing she wished was to let slip her freakish ability—“…figure out the truth and convince my brother to help you. My sister Emma has oft had success interviewing female suspects, so I thought I might give it a go. Ladies have a way of speaking with other ladies, if you know what I mean.”
“I most assuredly do not know what you mean. Why don’t you explain to me why a well-bred virgin marches into the den of a whore and carries on as if she’s an investigator? While you’re at it, why don’t you clarify why you risked your neck—never mind your reputation—doing the most asinine thing in the history of asinine things?”
His question ended on a roar, and Polly supposed she really ought to have been frightened. But she wasn’t, not of him, this man who feared for her safety, who’d recoiled at Nicoletta’s false accusations. Despite his domineering stance, waves of agitation poured off him, his heat and spicy male scent flooding her senses, the bleakness in his eyes pulling the truth from her.
“I went because I misjudged you,” she said quietly. “You were right: I was wrong to assume the worst of what you said that night in the garden, and my behavior toward you since has reflected my unfair prejudice.”
His brows snapped together. “So you went to Nicoletta’s out of obligation?”
She could have left it at that. A part of her wanted to. But something in his fierce gaze would not allow anything but the complete truth. Her hand seemed to lift of its own accord. He jerked at her touch, his hard jaw ticking with tension against her gloved palm.
“No, I went because I believe you,” she said steadily. “I believe that you’re not the type of man who would beat a woman—who would hurt someone less powerful. And after speaking with Miss French, I believe that she is lying, and you were framed, although I don’t know the reasons behind her evil scheme. But I vow I will convince my brother to take on your case.”
He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. His brows-drawn expression was strangely vulnerable. “You… believe me?”
“I believe you,” she reaffirmed, “and I’m sorry I misjudged you in the first place.”
The yearning in his gaze, in his aura, was mesmerizing. A magnetic force seemed to vibrate between them, breath-stealing, irresistible, entraining her heartbeat to its ungoverned pulse. Every part of her felt innervated, thrumming with anticipation.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he said hoarsely. “This wanting between us.”
Their gazes held as a heartbeat ticked by. Then another. The world outside faded to the primitive drumming in her ears, and her chin dipped in a nearly imperceptible nod. After that, she didn’t know who made the first move, but the last thing she saw was smoldering blue before their mouths met in a crushing kiss.
~~~
There would be consequences, but he was too far gone to give a damn. Had been from the moment he’d clapped eyes on her. A part of him had always known the risk she posed, but he’d never been good at denying what he wanted. And, by Jove, he wanted her.
I believe you.
The words hit his bloodstream like an aphrodisiac. Roaring need met with the heady relief that she was safe, and it was a combustible combination. Hunger roared through him, the rush as strong as that of the black devil, the bastard stirring but remaining asleep.
The need he was feeling was all for Polly. All because of her.
Pressing her into the corner of the carriage, he feasted on her mouth, her sweetness a drug and he an addict who’d been craving it since his last taste. He licked into her honeyed cove, coaxing her to kiss him back, and when her tongue brushed against his, that shy swipe travelled all the way to his groin. His bollocks swelled with pent-up seed. His cock was harder than a fire iron—Christ, from just a kiss.
But kissing with her was different than with other women. It wasn’t just a prelude to fucking. It was… more. Her wanton innocence was, for him, the essence of pleasure. The way she received his questing tongue as if it were the sweetest treat—as if she would accept anything he gave her.
As if she could want all of him, everything that he was.
Ravenous, he left her mouth for her earlobe, tugging the plumpness between his lips. Her breath hitched, and he did it again, flicking wetly, suckling the soft lobe until she squirmed with ardent insistence against him, her little gloved hands pawing at his shoulders. He nuzzled her throat, her apple blossom scent making his mouth water. Speaking of ripe, delicious fruit…
He nimbly searched out buttons and laces, loosening and undoing them until he could tug down the bodice of her gown and petticoat. His nostrils flared at the sight of what he’d revealed. Although he’d seen his fair share of racy boudoir wear, her modest white unmentionables were the most erotic garments he’d ever seen on a woman. Nearly transparent, her fine linen shift was cut low, draping over the lush upper mounds of her breasts, the lower half hidden in the pleated cups of her corset.
He traced a fingertip over her kiss-reddened lips, her delicate chin, down the silken arch of her throat. As his touch wandered lower, over the deep, linen-covered crevice between her heaving tits, he marveled, “How beautiful you are.”
“I’m not beautiful.” Her denial was immediate, no trace of coyness in her clear eyes.
He would show her how wrong she was. He traced the delicate slope of her collarbone, her skin softer than swan’s-down beneath his fingertips.
“Beautiful,” he repeated.
“I’m not—”
She broke off with a gasp when he hooked his index finger beneath the neckline of her shift, dipping into the cup of her corset. He found the taut bud of her nipple, slowly flicking the velvety tip back and forth. He held her gaze, hunger surging in him as her aquamarine eyes grew unfocused, a soft whimper leaving her.
“Satisfy my curiosity, kitten: are your nipples a shy pink to match your creamy skin,” he murmured, “or a naughty coral like your incomparable mouth? I’ve always wondered.”
