Page 54 of The Earl’s Hoyden

“But it’s true.” He stopped and turned to her, his face partially illuminated by a green lantern nearby.

Her heart caught in her chest, locked there by a fledgling whisper of hope.

She gazed up at him, and a gust of wind blasted at them. An involuntary shiver rippled through her. Lucien put his arm around her shoulders and guided her into a darkened alcove where the wind could not touch them. His familiar scent was replaced with an expensive spice.

“You smell different,” she observed.

He gave an embarrassed chuckle. “My valet suggested it. I actually dislike the scent.”

“It isn’t unpleasant,” she replied. “But I prefer the way you smelled before.”

They were close to one another in the limited space of the alcove so that the toes of her slippers touched those of his polished Hessians. Their eyes met, and the breath fled Hannah’s lungs.

She knew that look on Lucien’s face, the softening of his eyes as his stare swept down her face to her lips.

He was going to kiss her.

And she was going to let him.

There was so much Lucien wished to say to Hannah. It hadn’t truly been his intent to lure her to an alcove and kiss her.

Except that the inclement weather forced them into such tight quarters, and with her so close, her sweet citrus fragrance and her beauty beckoning him…he could not help himself. Especially not when he had spent every night since that kiss reliving the moment—the taste of her lips, the heat of her mouth, the fire that crackled inside him and tightened his loins.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” he said raggedly.

She swallowed. “Nor I, you.” Her breath came in a shaky exhale, and her lashes fluttered as she angled her face up.

“I kissed you before, and you did not want it,” he said. “I will not do so again unless you wish me to.”

Her teeth sank into that lower lip he wanted so desperately to suck into his mouth. She looked up at him. “I want you to kiss me.”

Sweeter words had never been heard by any man.

He reached for her, caressing the line of her jaw with his gloved hand. It wasn’t enough. With a growl, he withdrew his hand, wrenched off the glove and let his bare fingers caress her skin. She was softer than he imagined, like a rose petal, warm and tempting.

“Hannah,” he whispered.

“Lucien.”

He closed his eyes with pleasure at hearing his name breathy and eager on her lips. Without allowing himself to think—only to feel instead—he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers.

Where last time she had tasted of lemonade and brandy, now she held the heady richness of wine. His hand shifted behind her head, cradling the weight of her luxurious hair against his palm as he deepened the kiss.

This time, she did not hesitate to part her lips, welcoming the brush of his tongue against hers with a little moan that left him thickening with need. Her tongue stroked his, tentatively at first and then with a need that matched his own.

Her hand lifted to his face, cold and absent gloves as well, running down the length of his neck to curl around toward the back. Desire pulsed white-hot, making him lose all sense of time. All sense of place.

There was no Vauxhall Gardens or an alcove where they might easily be seen. There was only him and Hannah and the attraction burning with an intensity neither could ignore.

She pushed against him, her curves evident through even her wrap. He trailed his hands over her, tracing the exquisite shape of her body. His cock ached as she arched toward him, straining toward her.

Her gasp whispered through their parted lips, and he knew she felt the force of his erection.

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “I…”

But she arched her hips against the length of him. The pleasure of that slight pressure gripped him, making him swallow a groan to remain as quiet as possible. But he didn’t want to quell the sounds of his desire. He wanted to growl and groan and snarl with a fervor he had never known.

He wanted this woman more than he wanted air to breathe.