Get it over with?Get it over with?
He set the bottle down. “Then come here, shepherdess, and let us be done with it.”
* * *
He loomed there in the dim light. Part human, part shadow. All man.
She had angered him. She heard it in his tone and saw it in the tensing of his form. It had been a mistake to treat him dismissively.
Only she needed to leave. He created too much comfort in this library. The dark added intimacy. It felt like talking with a friend. Or teasing with a lover.
He did not sit.
Her heart pounded as she stood. “You must not touch me. The same conditions as last time, you said. No embraces, no—”
“Just come here so we canget it over with.”
They were six of the longest steps she had ever taken. She stopped three feet away. If they both stretched a bit, they could—
“Come closer.”
Her legs wobbled the last two steps. They brought her very close indeed. So close that she could all but feel him against her. Her body reacted as if she could.
“Don’t move away. If you do, all conditions are canceled. And look at me. I’m not interested in kissing your forehead.”
She had forgotten how tall he was and how small she felt when next to him like this. The last time, in the garden, he had overwhelmed her with his masculinity. Memories of that indiscretion rose in her, encouraging the physical stimulation that she already experienced.
She forced herself to look up. His mouth, his gaze, his face—even in this light, she was sure she saw how blue his eyes were, and how those thick curls framed his head recklessly.
“Only one quick kiss,” she said.
“I never promised it would be quick.”
She closed her eyes and steeled herself. She must not allow herself to enjoy this the way she had in the garden. For this one kiss, she must remain a combination of iron and ice.
Only, the first touch of their lips burned away the ice. Iron would not find it this hard to maintain a footing.
Not quick. Not at all. He knew how to make a kiss linger, then change, then lure her into complicity. Warmth flowed in her—first a trickle, then a stream. It aimed low and deep, making her throb. He was good to his word and did not touch her, but soon she wished he would.
How could a man’s lips be both soft and firm? How could a kiss both cajole and command? The way the kiss altered and explored without stopping intrigued her. She noted how each change affected her breath and body. She did not object when his tongue finally invaded.
He evoked shivers and low, long pangs of pleasure. The kiss brought him closer and her body kept brushing against his in a series of slight, teasing caresses. The linen shirt offered little protection and her breasts turned heavy and hard until she began hoping for more such tantalizing accidents.
How that kiss changed her. Defeated her. Enlivened her. Her reactions did not shock her. Instead, she welcomed every delicious arousal.
She grew so senseless that her legs lost their balance. She staggered and almost fell against him. He did touch her then, on the shoulders to steady her. And to move her.
Then she was on that divan beside him, still being kissed. Only one kiss, as agreed? Definitely more by now. He could not do what he did to her neck if it were only one kiss.
Sensual excitement swam and focused and tightened. His hands remained on the divan’s back cushion, but his body kept tempting hers with those small connections and grazes. She wanted more of that, much more. She wanted more of his hot kisses on her neck and chest. More of his firm command of her mouth. More of his scent surrounding her.
He kissed along the neckline of her shirt. She stroked her hand into his hair and held him there so the pleasure might not stop.
His voice came, deep and quiet. “I want to touch you too. Will you allow it?” A wonderful voice. A good voice in the dark.
It seemed only fair since she had touched him. And she wanted him to caress her. Desperately. She knew as she nodded that all of the conditions and promises would mean nothing now. . . .
He touched her breast. Oh, how she welcomed it. His fingertips played at her through the soft linen. A torrent of pleasure shivered through her body. She slipped into its current until only three things existed in her consciousness. Him, her, and pleasure.
