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She reached up and touched his face.
“It has to be now,” he said hoarsely, “because in a minute I won’t be able to—”
She kissed him.
“Oh, God,” he moaned. “Oh, Elizabeth.”
She should have made him stop, she knew. She should have raced out of the room and not allowed him within twenty feet of her until she stood next to him in a church as husband and wife. But love, she was discovering, was a powerful emotion, and passion ran a very close second. And nothing, not propriety, not a wedding band, not even eternal damage to her reputation and good name, could stop her from reaching for this man right now and encouraging him to make her his.
With trembling fingers she reached for the buttons of his shirt. She had never before taken such an active role in their lovemaking, but heaven help her, she wanted to touch the hot skin of his chest. She wanted to skim her fingers over his powerful muscles and feel his heart pounding with desire.
Her hands trailed down to his abdomen and lingered there for a moment before gently pulling his linen shirt from the waistband of his breeches. With a shiver of pride, she watched as his muscles bunched and clenched under her gentle touch, and she knew that his desire was something too great for him to contain.
That this man, who had chased criminals across Europe, and, according to Caroline Ravenscroft, been chased by countless women, could be so undone by her touch—Elizabeth was thrilled to the core. She felt so…so womanly as she watched her small hand trace circles and hearts on the smooth planes of his chest and stomach. And as he sucked in his breath and groaned her name, she felt infinitely powerful.
He allowed her to explore him like this for a full minute before a rough growl came from deep in his throat, and he rolled over onto his side, taking her along with him. “Enough,” he gasped. “I can’t…Not another…”
Elizabeth took this as a compliment and curved her lips into a secret, sensual smile. But her thrill at having the upper hand was short-lived. For no sooner had James rolled her onto her side than he’d rolled her onto her back, and before she could draw in even one complete breath, he was straddling her body, staring down at her with raw need and a very male look of anticipation.
His fingers found the tiny buttons that marched between her breasts, and with startling dexterity and speed he undid all five. “Ah,” he murmured, sliding the garment over her shoulders, “that was what we needed.”
He bared the tops of her breasts, letting his fingers tickle into her cleavage before sliding her shift down lower.
Elizabeth clawed at the bedclothes to keep from covering herself. He was staring at her with such burning intensity that she felt heat and moisture pool between her legs. He remained still for nearly a minute, not even raising a single finger to caress her, just gazing down at her breasts and licking his lips as he watched her nipples peak and harden.
“Do something,” she finally gasped.
“This?” he asked softly, grazing one tip with the palm of his hand.
She didn’t say a word, just fought for breath.
“This?” He moved his hand to the other side, and gently pinched her between his fore- and middle finger.
“Please,” she begged.
“Ah, you must mean this,” he said roughly, his words lost as he bent over and drew her into his mouth.
Elizabeth let out a little shriek. One of her hands twisted the bedsheet into a tight spiral while the other sank into James’s thick hair.
“Oh, that wasn’t what you wanted?” he teased. “Maybe I need to pay more attention to the other side.” And then he did it again, and Elizabeth thought she surely would die if he didn’t do something to release the incredible tension that was building inside her.
He tore himself from her for just long enough to pull the shift over her head, and then, while he was yanking off his belt, Elizabeth pulled the thin bedsheet over her.
“You won’t be able to hide for long,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
“I know.” She blushed. “But it’s different when you’re next to me.”
He eyed her curiously as he slid back into bed. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t explain.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s different when you can see all of me.”
“Ah,” he said slowly, “so does that mean I can look at you like this?” With a teasing glance, he tugged on the sheet until he bared one silky shoulder, which he proceeded to kiss lovingly.
Elizabeth squirmed and giggled.
“I see,” he said, adopting an odd foreign accent just for fun. “And what about this?” He reached down and yanked the sheet off her foot, then tickled her toes.
“Stop!” she shrieked.
