Page 76 of A Potion for Passion

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Flora couldn’t look away. Lawrence’s gaze trapped hers and refused to release her. As he came closer, she lost all willpower, all conscience.

He climbed up and braced himself over her on the wagon seat. “Kiss me, Flora,” he commanded. “I’ve waited far too long.”

“So have I,” she whispered, raising a hand to his face, pushing the damp hair back from his brow.

His lips met hers in a frenzy of pent-up need, and it felt glorious, emancipating. She didn’t want it to stop. Ever. She drank from his lips, like a bee drinking nectar, learning the taste of him, molding her lips to his.

After a long, impassioned tangling of tongues, he dragged his mouth away. Her racing heart scudded to a halt. Why had he broken the kiss?

“I meant to go more slowly,” he said with a frown. “I meant to savor the moment.”

Be damned to that. He needed to take her where she wanted to go before courage failed her.

“No need,” she whispered, looking up at him. She could admit to herself now she had wanted him from the first moment she saw him cheerfully touting his remedies from the stage on Fortuneswell green. But she knew that getting what one wanted wasn’t always for the best.

He mustn’t give her time to think, time to change her mind. She reached up and pulled his head down again, pressing her lips against his until they ached, until he opened his mouth and took possession of her tongue once more, of her lips, overwhelming her every thought and feeling.

When he next raised his head, they were both short of breath. She adored the way his bare chest heaved up and down as he sought for mastery of himself. The look on his face was fierce, unnerving. But exciting, too.

“Inside, I think,” he said briefly, and eased himself away, signaling her to go through the wagon flap.

Once again, she was enclosed by his magical world, the mysterious world of folklore, healing, natural wonders, and arcane symbols. She could not imagine a world further from her own. And now he was working his magic on her.

“You’re smiling,” he said as he followed her inside and knotted the flap behind them. “Does that mean I needn’t feel guilty for making such a sinful bargain with you?”

She hadn’t meant to pander to his pride by smiling, but it was impossible not to do so. Just the lightest touch of his fingers set her nerves buzzing with vitality. And his lips…well, she hadn’t tasted nearly enough of those yet.

She reached for the ribbons of her bonnet, but he prevented her.

“No. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

She waited obediently while he removed her bonnet, but it gave her a chance to feast her eyes on the bronzed skin and honed muscles of his torso. Reaching out, she ran a finger over the dark hair between his pectoral muscles, then across in fascination to one of his brown male nipples, recalling how her touch had inflamed him once before.

His breath hissed between his teeth. “Please don’t distract me while I’m doing this,” he said.

With a little huff of disappointment, she obliged, and closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the sensation of his hands removing her bonnet and pulling the pins from her hair. She felt the long tresses fall about her shoulders, and he let out a sigh of satisfaction.

“Now you are my Madame Julietta again,” he said.

“I think perhaps I’ve always been Madame Julietta,” she replied. “But only on the inside.”

She opened her eyes again and reveled in his joyful expression as he spread her hair over her shoulders, then pulled her forward so he could nestle his cheek against her head. She ran an admiring hand over the bunched muscle of his shoulder, her fingertips grazing the satin skin. His bicep rippled in response and, suddenly, she was pressed hard against his chest.

He let out a low groan. “Flora, your touch ignites me like no other. I just don’t understand it.”

She pressed her fingertips to his lips. “Hush. Don’t question it. Just feel.”

When had she become such a wanton? More so in the hands of this practiced lover than in Frank’s…but she didn’t want to think of that now.

His lips found hers again, and his tongue flicked and teased, distracting her while he expertly unbuttoned her pelisse and unhooked the front panel of her gown. He pushed both down, then scooped her up, lifting her free of them.

How thrilling to be lifted as if she weighed nothing at all! She clasped her hands behind his neck and looked up into his familiar, much-loved face.

Loved?She swallowed hard. No, this feeling mustn’t be confused with love. She wanted all of the man, yes, but his heart was his own to keep. She had no right to wish for anything more.

As soon as he laid her down on the dark, thickly embroidered cover of his bed, she reached for him, molding the tense muscles of his chest with her hands, examining his naked flanks, his slender waist, and the oh-so-fascinating small buds of his nipples.