He stared down at her with something wild in his forest-green eyes.That errant lock of dark chestnut hair had fallen over his tanned brow again, and behind his short beard, his jaw was set as though he were grinding his teeth.
Every part of him that touched her was hard.And hot.Gemma became aware as her embarrassment faded that there were many, many parts of him touching all along her reclining form.
He shifted, only slightly, but the movement made one thick, muscular thigh settle more deeply between her legs.The pressure against her softness both tormented and soothed Gemma, and she felt an overpowering urge to tilt her hips to get more of it.
A new kind of heat rushed in to fill the emptiness inside her, a simmering, shimmering heat that was every bit as dangerous as the flames that had almost singed her skin.
The wildness hadn’t left his eyes.In fact, it had spread to his hands, where they gripped her shoulders and pulled her closer so that the tips of her breasts brushed his chest.The thin fabric of her nightshift was no barrier at all, and the sensation went through Gemma like a bolt of lightning.She gasped.Her head fell back and her legs worked restlessly as she tried to lift herself even closer.
The scent of him wrapped around her, the sweetness of fresh hay and sun-warmed leather overtaking the scorched smell of burnt fabric.
“You,” he rasped, his rough voice scraping over her raw nerves in a shivery rush.He shook his head slowly, as if he was trying to return to sanity, and Gemma reacted.
She wasn’t ready to go back to reality.She wasn’t ready to let go of this delicious feeling just yet.So she did the only thing she could think of to prolong it.
Gemma got one hand around the back of his taut neck, her fingers curling into the lush silk of the hair at his nape, and she pulled his head down to meet his lips with a kiss.
* * *
Hal felt the kiss in every corner of his frame.With a simple brush of lips, it was as though she kissed his neck, his shoulders, behind his knees, along his inner thighs…his muscles coiled and tensed and his mind contained nothing but the swell of her soft breasts against his chest and the grip of her dainty fingers against his nape.
The image of her below him, every rounded curve of her delectable body outlined by the translucently fine fabric of her shift, was forever seared into his memory.On the heels of the fear he’d felt when he’d heard her scream and the panicked rush to get to her side, it was almost too much.But still, he could have resisted the dark urges their sudden, shocking closeness brought forth—until she’d arched her head back and exposed the slim column of her throat.
The rapid flutter of her heartbeat clearly visible in the tender hollow.The heavy-lidded look of slumbrous desire she’d leveled at him from under her lashes.The faint, subtle twisting of her hips as she sought more and deeper sensation from him—perhaps not even aware of the movements she was making.
Certainly, she could not know what she was doing to him with those pulses of her softness against the jutting, angry ache of his hardness.
Or perhaps she was well aware.
We London girls know what to do in the dark.
The thought inflamed him.Hal tilted his head and took her mouth more deeply.She met him kiss for kiss, her eager response driving Hal to new heights of desire.
Their lips clung as Hal’s tongue plunged into her, mimicking the way his cock wanted to thrust into her honeyed core.Imagining it turned Hal into a mindless animal, desperate for bare skin, and he skimmed one hand along the glorious curve of her waist and hips to gather the hem of the clothing that barred his way.
The fabric was wet.And not in the sexy way—in a cold, clammy way that instantly shocked him back into his right mind.
Water.He’d thrown water on her, because her dress was on fire.
What the hell was he doing?
Hal lifted away from her, despite the clutch of her fingers and the displeased noise she made in her throat.
“Are you hurt?”he asked, the words harsh with self-recrimination.“I should have checked.”
She sighed, dropping her arms to cross over her chest and thunking her head down on the floor.“I’m fine.I told you I was fine.”
Hal struggled for a moment, torn between his instinctive need to see for himself that the smooth, creamy skin of her legs was unmarked, and the knowledge that he absolutely could not reach down and lift her skirts if she didn’t want him to.
And clearly, the moment when she might’ve wanted him to lift her skirts was past, he recognized glumly as Gemma pushed herself up to sit.She wouldn’t even look at him, choosing instead to fuss with the waves of dark hair that had been disordered by—God, by Hal’s hands running through the silken strands and tangling them around his fingers while he devoured her mouth like a starving man.
Coming to his feet, Hal offered her a hand and only clenched his jaw a little when she ignored it in favor of rising on her own to stand, straight-backed and as dignified as it was possible to be in bare feet and a damp, bedraggled nightgown.
Still not looking at him, she said, “Thank you for your kind assistance, Mr.Deveril.I’m certain I would have had the fire out myself in a moment, but you were certainly very quick on your feet.How lucky you happened to be passing by just at that moment.”
Were they really going to do this?Pretend that monumental kiss hadn’t happened?Hal gritted his teeth, chest heaving with the words he wanted to say but wouldn’t allow himself.
She was offering him an escape, a way to rectify the terrible mistake he’d made by ever touching her.He should take it and be grateful.
