After a moment, she moved over to give him room. But when he climbed onto the mattress, instead of lying beside her, Malcolm covered her body with his, leaning upon his elbows and resting a leg on either side of hers.
His heart was already pounding, and as they touched, he could feel hers, too.
“You make me happy,” he said before he thought about it.
Her eyes widened at his confession. To diffuse the vulnerability he felt, he nearly joked about how she’d rescued him so many times. After all, who wouldn’t be happy with a clever, beautiful woman coming to his aid, even in front of the emperor. But he didn’t want to bring her thoughts back to the day’s events.
“I want to make you happy in return,” he offered, hoping she understood his meaning.
She nodded, before reaching up and drawing his head down to hers for another kiss. It was a strange notion to be in love with a woman he knew so little about. But something inside him longed for her, with the certainty he needed her with him for the rest of his life. He’d never experienced anything like it.
She moaned against him as he deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his. That she might have been with other men, maybe her Parisian friends, didn’t deter him a whit. He was confident he could be a better lover, and clearly, she hadn’t given her heart to any of them.
And it was her heart he most wanted, even as he intended to enjoy her body.
Rolling to his back, he took her with him, and while she was suddenly splayed across him, he easily unfastened the single button at the back of her dress. Now, he had only to start drawing up her skirts so he could deal with her other layers, for he wanted her entirely bare this time.
She wriggled until he stopped. And then, to his wonderment, she tilted her head, lowered her mouth to his, and kissed him. He even felt her tongue at the seam of his lips, as he had done to her.
Reaching up, he clasped the back of her head, just below her coiled bun, and held her in place while his other hand palmed her breast, aching to feel her soft skin. Opening his mouth to her explorations, their tongues seemed to dance a sensual waltz, rubbing along each other.
But he wanted more. By the feel of her pearled nipple through her gown and shift, she did, too. This was becoming torture.
Breaking off the kiss, he rolled again so they were in danger of falling off the far side of the bed. But he could look down into her face once more. Dropping a kiss on her chest, just above the valley between her breasts, he felt her shiver beneath him.
“Serena, I want you.”
To his chagrin and surprise considering she looked flushed and willing, she shook her head.
“No, I don’t want you?” he asked, unable to keep from smiling. “Or no, you don’t want me?”
“Neither,” she said. “Will you kiss me again?”
“I will,” he said, “but it’s becoming increasingly difficult not to wish for more.”
Still, he obeyed, lowering his mouth to hers, fearing he’d lose his sanity when she lifted her hips, writhing against him. He found himself grinding against her, feeling like a randy youth.
Raising his head, the words were pulled from him again. “I want you.”
Again, she shook her head.
“Serena!” he exclaimed exasperatedly.
She shrugged. “You don’t know me,” she said in her perfectly lilting French.
Hadn’t he just been thinking how strange it was to feel so deeply about a woman he barely knew?But that didn’t change how he felt.
“I care for you, and I want to give you pleasure. What else do I need to know right now?”
She sighed. He would have chuckled at her expression if his groin didn’t ache for her.
“I will be happy to learn all about you,” he promised, “and we can spend hours talking while we make our way to Saint-Malo.”
She brightened. “Yes, I would like to learn about you, too.”
There was a lot he could tell her, and a lot he never would. A decade of furtive assignments held many ignoble and savage tales she had no reason ever to know.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves now,” he pointed out.
