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Her head rose from the book she read by a candle, light-brown hair falling over her shoulders, eyes with that parakeet shade.
“Good evening,” she whispered.
The mere sound of her voice made him hard. The lucky night ahead made him harder.
Brusquely, he tore the cravat from his neck before he choked on the grit in his throat.
“You took your sweet time,” she taunted.
And he had no ability to speak, only to swallow and retain a drop of sanity. Had he known she was here, he’d have jumped into bed a century ago, give or take.
Damning fires of hell! This woman would finish him up. In five minutes.
In jagged movements, he undid the four buttons on his shirt and kicked his half-boots. Then he prowled to bed as if he did this every night of his life. The mere possibility filled him with even more hunger.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hester observed Drake’s approach with her heart slamming in her chest and eagerness spreading in her insides.
After a tense dinner, she’d sat in her chamber ruminating on the sleepless night ahead. At the end of her forces, she contemplated that fighting herself and her needy desires were getting her nowhere. If anything, she felt she drowned in the quicksand of her frustration and pride. It would have been the same even if she hadn’t been obligated to stay here these last few days. His constant presence was already driving her intentions to tatters. That Lady Millicent herself attested to the ruse Drake played to help her indicated Hester’s foolishness in struggling to keep her distance.
There could be a chance her reasons reduced to simple self-cheating, but in her distressed state of mind, she cared very little if this was the case. Which resulted in her being in his bed, dressed in one of the nightgowns he’d had made for her.
Her eyes lifted when Drake stalled two feet from her, standing like a giant mass of muscle, heat, and intent.
“This bed is bigger, so I decided to sleep here tonight.” The breathy statement caused him to lower his focus to her mouth. The skin tingled with the memory of his kisses, mingling with the yearning for a thousand more.
He sat by her side on the mattress, facing her. “Sleep is something you’re not doing here any time soon.” His movements caused his shirt to gape and exhibit his wall of a chest made of sinew and enticement.
Her stare clasped on his to establish a sizzling current between them. “Oh,” she answered. “Perhaps I should find another chamber in that case.” Coquettishness never ever figured in her life outside the stage, but it seemed the right thing to say, especially as his breath hastened.
One of her hands rose to sneak under his fine lawn and trace a route that started on his shoulder, down one defined pectoral, the warmth and smoothness of the skin covering that wide part of him. His rosemary scent added to the sheer maleness of him, as his own fingers reached the bows keeping her dressing gown together.
“You won’t get sleep in any of them either.” The rasp seemed more like a fine sand-paper caress over her senses, stirring and promising.
Her palm reached his nipple where she grazed her nails lightly and elicited an intake of air from him. “Well, this leaves me with only this chamber, I suppose.” And she shifted on the pillows to lie down.
He also adjusted, stretching beside her, wedging a solid thigh between hers, blunt, unapologetic. Their previous intimacy, familiarity was coming back like a tidal wave. His head neared hers, those intense eyes taking in every inch of her face.
“A wise decision.” He murmured before his mouth came on to hers and everything went up in flames.
He assured her she’d get no sleep. Right now, he also denied her a full kiss. He licked the corner of her mouth, then he merely feathered her lips with his. To one side, to the other. Her arms lifted to lace his shoulders to tell him to do the right job of it.
But he didn’t, of course.
His tongue flicked the other corner. Like that sandpaper of his voice, his evening stubble rasped on her skin to gnaw a deeper hunger. That firm, sensual mouth moved to her chin, only for his teeth to graze on it so lightly, they were barely there.
She whimpered, begging for more.
Again, he didn’t grant her anything.
Her fingers raked his wavy hair and tried to pull him closer. He didn’t yield. On the contrary, his head put distance from her.
“What do you want, Hester?” As if he had to ask!
She opened her eyes to find his fast on hers. “A full kiss, you blasting rake!”
He rumbled a chuckle. “But you shunned them when you left me.” He was goading her, the scoundrel!
