A princess unbound.
So goddamned lovely that his teeth ached.
“Your knuckles are bleeding.” She began rummaging through her reticule. “Let me find a handkerchief—”
“I don’t need a damned handkerchief.” His bloodlust simmered just beneath the surface. “What the devil you were doing in the garden with that bastard?”
She stiffened. Set her bag aside. In cool tones, she said, “Thank you for your intervention, my lord. Sir Rathburn was proving quite a nuisance.”
“Nuisance,you say? The blighter had his hands on you. If I hadn’t arrived when I did…”
His throat clenched at the possibility. A force, deep and feral, drummed in his chest.No one touches what is mine.
“As I said, I am grateful. In retrospect, my behavior was a trifle reckless,”—her voice wavered before she plunged on—“but even so, it is of no concern to you.”
“It bloody well is my concern. Now see here—”
“No.Youlisten.” Her chin lifted, her eyes blazing with golden fire. “I am not some delicate miss in need of a keeper! You have no right to dictate my actions. I will spend time with whomever I choose. You may not want me, but other men enjoy my company.”
His vision darkened. “Devil take it, I do want you. I told you, the problem is with me—”
“I’m done with your ambivalence. All your back and forth. If you want me, then I suggest you act upon it now.” Her shoulders drew back, the rounded tops of her bosom bobbing like twin lures. “This is your final chance somake up your dashed mind.”
Already roused from the night’s violence, his primal side reared at the challenge. There was no stopping this. Craving for her saturated him, every muscle throbbing with need. She wanted proof of his desire for her?
So be it.
***
Tremont hauled her into his arms.At last.
Sprawled against his hard thighs, Thea trembled. Finally, she was where she belonged. Where she’d longed to be since their last kiss. He made quick work of the domino, the cocoon of velvet falling from her. His kisses branded her bare throat.
In his arms, she was truly alive. The recognition blazed that no other man could make her feel this way. She wanted him and only him.
“If we do this, we do it my way,” he growled.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to take you fully, but I will see to your pleasure. If there’s anything you don’t like, you will tell me to stop. Otherwise, you will do as I say. Are we agreed?”
His masterful tone made her shiver. She dipped her chin.
“I’m not the gentleman people think I am,” he warned her. “I’m no angel.”
“Just as I’m no porcelain doll.” Hesitantly, she said, “Do you truly want me, Tremont?”
“I have never wanted anyone more.” He cupped her cheek, his callused touch sending quivers up her spine. “Ready, princess?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He claimed her mouth, and heat flared like a symphony, wrapping her in pure sensation. Only his lips existed, their firmness and warmth, the delicious, drugging friction. It was natural to part her own and welcome him deeper inside. Their tongues met in a glissando of delight that spread goose pimples over her skin. The tips of her breasts stiffened to tingling points beneath her bodice.
Seated as she was on Tremont’s lap, she knew the kiss was having a similar effect on him. Through the layers of clothing, she could feel the hard, rampant shape of his manhood. She gave an experimental wriggle, and he groaned.
In the next instant, she found herself lying on her back, her shoulder blades against the velvet squabs. Tremont knelt on the carriage floor, his features austere, his eyes smoldering with possession. The kind of passion she’d dreamed of.
“Beautiful.” His voice had a ragged edge. “You set me afire.”
