Phin nodded, accepting her explanation as it resonated inexplicably within himself, as well.
“What I don’t understand,” she said as she carefully closed the book, “is how it came into your friend’s possession. Where did he get it? And where has it been these hundreds of years?”
Phin shook his head as tension tightened his muscles. “Excellent questions.” Only Barnaby could possibly have those answers and his friend was very possibly already captured by whomever was so desperately trying to claim the necklace for their own. And he still had no idea who that was or why they wanted it so badly. It could very well be the people who’d owned the piece prior to Barnaby’s possession. Or someone else entirely. Their desire could be driven solely by the pricelessness of the item…or something more. If the assassin who’d initially stolen it had managed to keep it hidden for the rest of his own life and generations beyond…what had brought it back out of obscurity and into Barnaby’s hands?
His mind whirled through the endless questions and possible answers. The mystery of the necklace was a hell of a lot more complicated than he’d expected.
“What are you thinking?”
Lady Eleanor’s whispered question had him blinking out of his whirlwind of thoughts to see her watching him with a curious tilt of her head and a seeking look in her eyes.
In a sudden instant, he became aware of how close they were sitting. She was practically nestled between his legs with her shoulder abreath away from his chest. He hadn’t realized that he’d shifted so close to her in viewing the book and he suspected she hadn’t noticed it, either.
But with her dark stare looking into his, he witnessed the moment she realized their proximity. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. And her cheeks blushed a dusky rose.
Any thoughts of necklaces, weddings, and assassinations fell right out of his head.
“I no longer have any idea,” he murmured, answering her question.
Her lashes swept over her eyes as she lowered her focus to his lips.
Desire jolted through him—hot and fierce as the memory of exploring her honeyed mouth with his tongue flashed in his mind. He craved that taste again.
Her breathy sigh as she tipped her head toward him in a silent beckoning gesture tied him in knots.
“Say you won’t regret it,” he murmured as he slid his hand up her slim back to cup her nape.
“I won’t,” she replied on a soft exhale. Then she turned to brace her hand on his thigh as she leaned into him.
It was so easy then to place his mouth on hers, to wrap his other arm around her hips and pull her into his lap. At the first slip of his tongue against the seam of her lips, she opened to him. Her tongue met his in the space between their mouths and a soft sound escaped her throat. As she boldly—almost possessively—curled one arm around his neck, her spine softened and she melted against him.
It was the loveliest, most erotically trusting surrender he’d ever experienced and for a second, a sharp prick of fear stabbed his chest.
But then her tongue glided in a sultry caress against his and desire overcame that moment of trepidation. He shoved it to the back of his mind where it dispersed amongst his other lost thoughts.
Chapter Nineteen
Eleanor couldn’t evenbegin to comprehend her own actions and yet had absolutely no desire to stop them. She’d never in her life behaved with such passion or impulsivity. But she found herself embracing it with a recklessness that shocked her.
He inspired something in her. A boldness. A curiosity. A sense that…she’d been missing a whole gorgeous landscape of experiences. She was tired of lowering her gaze so as not to yearn for what she’d been told she could not have. She was no longer willing to turn away from whatshedesired forherself.
And right now, there was just so much she wanted to experience. To know. Tofeel.
The way his large, warm hand squeezed the back of her neck before shoving into her hair to grasp the back of her head.
The way his bent leg braced against her side. And how the solid breadth of his chest and shoulders accepted her weight as she leaned into him—desperate to be as close as possible.
She enjoyed the tingling sweep of his hand up and down her spine, making her arch with sensations. But most of all, it was the brush of his velvet lips and the delicious thrust of his tongue and the pant of his heated breath…
As his lips sipped and teased and the edge of his teeth scraped delicately over her lips, she sighed and curled her fingertips into the muscle of his thigh.
With a rich gravelly sound, he shifted her against him, tipping her head back and cradling her in the bend of his arm. Then, he smoothed his other hand possessively over the curve of her hip, then farther…down her thigh until he paused at the bend of her knee.
He flicked his tongue hotly against hers and nipped at her mouth, making her breathless before he lifted his head. His breath bathed her cheek. “What do you want of me, Eleanor?”
Her name sounded almost sultry in his roughened murmur. An arc of tingling sensation spread from the back of her skull, through her trembling belly, to the aching flesh between her legs.
She opened her eyes just enough to meet his heavy-lidded stare. His handsome features were formed into an expression more earnest than she’d ever seen as he awaited her response.
