The cocky grin he gave her indicated he knew it wouldn’t be him.
He brought them to a halt. She’d been so entranced with his deep voice laying out his proposition, she’d failed to notice the tune drifting to a close. Without another word, he escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and bestowed upon her a nod filled with such confidence and arrogance—as though he comprehended that she’d be unable to resist him—that she decided she absolutely would not follow the directions he’d so meticulously laid out. The kiss would definitely go unfinished.
In the end, she disappointed herself... and Lord Lawrence Brinsley-Norton, younger brother to the Duke of Kingsland. As she hurried down the corridor, she was certain that since only the remaining portion of a kiss needed to be addressed, it could be done in the space of a single dance, perhaps two, but she would disappoint no more than a couple of lords—if she disappointed them at all.
She suspected a good many of her dance partners were whisking her around the ballroom in an attemptto gain favor with her brother or mother. For business reasons or matrimonial, thinking that neither was dependent on her opinion. Time with her was an obligation, not a desire.
Except when it came to Rook. He wasn’t driven by desire, of that she was fairly confident. But in him, she sensed a competitive streak to prove his kiss was well done enough to lure her away from other gentlemen. She was giving him a victory, which she’d not intended; yet she couldn’t help but feel she’d be winning as well.
If she could ever reach that blasted alcove.
It was a goodly distance away from the chair in which she’d sat while he’d slowly stroked her foot as if it was a new discovery to be thoroughly examined—just as she explored anything unknown she ran across. Which meant their meeting place was far from the ballroom and by the time she’d reached the fork he’d mentioned, she was quite isolated from any other guests wandering about. It occurred to her that continuing on might be an unwise idea, but then another kiss might prove that the wondrousness of the first was a result of her foxed state rather than his skill, and the warmth that invaded her body with the memories of it might dissipate so she could more easily sleep without feeling like she was suffocating in her own skin and he was the only one with the means to free her.
At long last, she reached the statue for which she’d been searching. On one side of the hallway was a closed door that probably led into a library or drawing room. On the other, the alcove. Peering over the wolf’s back, she saw only darkness beyond. No chandelier provided light within this corridor. Only a lamp on a table farther down.
To know of this tucked-away spot, he must have kissed dozens of women here. Hence, she was one of many, which was all to the good because that meant he knew what he was about. Still, once in her life, she would like to be made to feel special. She almost had that night at the Elysium, except her dulled mind hadn’t been able to forget that they’d had to send someone to her—that she’d had toask.
Only tonight, he’d done the asking. Or at least the demanding. In such a commanding voice, it was impossible to ignore, like a general giving orders to his troops.
If he was doing as he’d promised and was hidden away in there, he was observing her hesitancy. Watching, waiting. Waiting for her to be sure of herself. It was only when it came to men that she lacked complete confidence. They always seemed to find her interests a bit odd. She’d been able to share them with her father—it had pleased him when she had. But other men had always looked at her strangely, caused her unease.
If she left now, Rook would know her to be a coward.
Although perhaps he wasn’t there. After all, she’d danced with another gentleman after Rook had left her, the entire time her thoughts focused on what—who—was awaiting her arrival. He may have lost patience and abandoned this spot. He may have never shown. But if he had and if he was still there—
Her heart was pounding with such force, she was surprised it didn’t knock the wolf right off its pedestal as she flattened herself as much as possible and eased by its snarling mouth and into the blackened abyss.
Where she was greeted by an arm coming unerringly around her waist and drawing her up against a solid wall of firm muscle and sinew hidden beneathevening attire. It seemed appropriate somehow that he was the castle of his little group of friends, the fortification that offered protection. He made her feel safe. Here, secreted away from all the other guests, secluded, she should have felt some trepidation. Who was to hear if he took advantage?
Yet, she found herself relaxing in his arms as though she’d just downed a large glass of absinthe, her inhibitions and doubts floating away.
Pressed up against him as she was, he had to be aware of her going lax. She suspected it was what he’d been anticipating because suddenly one hand was cradling her face, tipping her head back slightly, his thumb stroking down to touch the corner of her mouth so his lips blanketed hers with a precision she admired, a precision needed for anything mechanical to work properly, for anything that moved to do so smoothly. She had a collection of windup toys her father had given her over the years, that she had taken apart and put back together in order to understand the magic of them. They had fascinated her, but not as much as this kiss.
While precise, it was not mechanical in any way. Although she suspected the wait may have served to wind him up. She might have smiled at the thought had she not begun getting lost in the wondrous sensations his incredible mouth was eliciting.
Since this kiss was a continuation of the one before, he hadn’t bothered with any slow seduction to ease her into opening her mouth to him. She’d instinctually parted her lips to give him access, and he’d come in conquering, plundering. Yet she experienced the thrill of victory.
He groaned low and the vibrations from the rumbling of his chest danced over her breasts, smashed as theywere against him. He still tasted dark and dangerous. Had probably indulged in a bit of scotch before coming here to wait for her. She liked the flavor of him. Liked the way his tongue parried with hers, explored the confines as though they had all the time in the world.
Suddenly she felt as though they did, and she wanted all those moments, hours, and eons to occur within this nook. She feared at least three gentlemen would be disappointed because she was certain to miss three dances if not four. She did hope she wasn’t disappointing Rook, but if he wasn’t enjoying the kiss, would his mouth still be clinging to hers? Would his hand roam over her backside, tenderly squeeze, and then press her even more firmly against his hardness? Would his body even react to such a magnificent degree if he wasn’t as entranced as she?
Tonight it was all her. And all him. No green fairy to intrude. It was far more powerful than she’d remembered. There was hunger. Need. Want. Desire.
It was everything. She wished for it to never end.
Rook had never so desperately wanted a kissnotto end. She was deliciously sweet, even though tonight no absinthe flavored her tongue. And the sounds she made, the soft mewling, a kitten being stroked with the gentlest of hands. His Lady of Sighs.
He did take care to be tender, not to ravish as his own needs dictated. She pulled at the animalistic cravings that raged within him, cravings he feared he’d inherited from his father, that were in his blood to be passed down through the generations. Cravings he’d chained within the dungeon of the fortification he’d become—toprotect himself and those who would suffer if he unleashed the full force of his appetites. Yearnings once set free that he might be unable to control.
Yet control them he had, for years now.
Oh, but he’d never wanted as he wanted now. This woman who seemed both innocent and worldly. Who gave as much as she took. Who didn’t hold back her passions. Who wasn’t coy. Who’d asked for what she wanted and then let him have his way with her mouth.
Their tongues tangled and explored. He dared to skim his fingers over the bared portions of her shoulders. Her gown was slightly fancier than the one she’d worn to the Elysium, but the same rich shade of pink, as if she understood how it complemented her complexion. He envisioned her spread out on sheets of the same color, matching the vibrancy she would bring to sex.
He wanted to go down on his knees, lift her skirts, and taste with as much enthusiasm as he was delivering to her mouth. But she’d asked for only a kiss. It was all he’d deliver.
But he’d make certain it was one she’d never forget, one that would spoil her for any other man. With a rough groan, he bent her back slightly and deepened the kiss.
