Page 52 of His Wicked Charm

“Easy way to set up a hidden door. Especially here, where he’s got so many volumes. You attach one of the books to a latch so that when you tilt the book back like this, it unfastens the latch. The whole bookcase is attached to the door, hiding it, and the case swings out.”

Lilah knelt at the farthest end of the shelves, her skirts pooling around her, and began to make her way toward him. She could hear the continued chunk-chunk-chunk of the books as he dropped them back in place.

The small thuds became more erratic, then stopped altogether for so long that Lilah glanced up in curiosity. Con was watching her, his hand still on one of the books, and there was a look in his eyes that made her words die in her throat.

Con pivoted abruptly and walked to another bookcase. His face turned in the opposite direction, he started down the row. Lilah went back to her task, moving rapidly, as if she could outrun the turbulent sensations inside her. Perhaps they should take different rooms. It would be easier not to think about Con if he weren’t right there, and there was the practical notion that it would halve their work time. But Lilah couldn’t bring herself to offer the solution, nor did Con suggest it.

They moved through the other rooms downstairs. Lilah was ever aware of Con’s movements behind her, and she could not keep from glancing over at him. It grew warmer as they continued to work, and Con shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a sofa. He unfastened his cuff links and dropped them in a pocket, then rolled up his sleeves.

There was something primitively arousing about watching him begin to undress, and Lilah found it difficult to pull her gaze away. She couldn’t recall ever seeing a man do anything like this. Of course, it was highly improper to be in one’s shirtsleeves in company—naturally Con didn’t feel himself bound by such rules.

She pulled her eyes back to her task, though at the moment she couldn’t remember exactly what she had been doing. Oh, yes, the piano. Somewhat shakily, she straightened the pages of sheet music before her, though it didn’t need it. She hoped Con had no idea what she had felt watching him. What she still felt.

It was a relief when they left the room and went upstairs. She realized that was a mistake, though, as soon as she stepped foot inside the first bedroom. The room was dark, the draperies shut, giving the place an enclosed, almost-intimate atmosphere. The large bed seemed to take up all the space.

She could feel a blush rising up her throat and she sneaked a glance at Con to find him, too, staring at the bed. He jerked his eyes away and strode to the far wall to begin his search. Lilah opened the draperies, but it offered little more light, for the shutters outside were closed. It was still too cave-like, too much like night.

Con let out a muffled exclamation, causing Lilah to jump, and she whirled around to look at him. Con was taking down a painting on the opposite wall, revealing behind it a square metal door embedded in the wall. Lilah hurried over to join him, glad to have her mind once again on what they were supposed to be doing rather than thinking about Con.

“This may take a while,” Con said, glancing at her. “I’m not as good at combinations.” He leaned closer to the safe, listening, as he turned the knob.

Lilah inched in, watching his fingers, anticipation rising in her. Con turned the knob this way and that, and after a moment, he leaned his forehead against the safe, drumming his fingers on the wall. “Lilah.”

“What?”

“You’re distracting me.”

He turned his face toward her, and she realized, startled, that she was only inches away from him. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were hot, his voice husky. “I can feel your breath on my neck, and I can’t remember a bloody thing.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Lilah blushed and started to step back, but his hand cupped the nape of her neck, holding her in place.

“I like it.”

As her mind whirled, trying to come up with a response, Con kissed her.

His lips weren’t tender as they had been earlier in the garden. They were hot and seeking, persuasive, charming her very will from her. Her body was suddenly warm and pliant. Lilah thought she might melt all over, but the idea didn’t bother her. Melting into Con seemed like a very nice thing to do.

His hands went to her waist, pulling her into his body, and he reeled back against the wall, clamping his arms around her, as his mouth plundered hers. She could feel his body against hers, no longer encumbered by his jacket. He was hard, all bone and muscle against her softness, and Lilah pressed her body against his, twisting as if she could move into him. He made an odd noise deep in his throat and turned, so that it was her back against the wall and he sank into her, moving more boldly than she had.

Lilah dug her fingers into his hair, shaken by the swirl of sensations inside her. Everything was so fast, so shimmering, so turbulent, she could not take it all in. She wanted to slow down, to savor it, yet at the same time she ached to have more, feel more. Con broke their kiss to trail his mouth across her face, down her throat. She could feel his breath, quick and a little shaky, upon her skin, in a seductive combination with his lips. His skin was scorching, matching the heat that boiled up inside her.

His hand went to the large round buttons that slanted across her chest. “I’ve been thinking about undoing these all morning. These buttons...” His lips found the hollow of her throat. “God, these buttons made my fingers itch.”

Lilah couldn’t manage more than an incoherent murmur. His fingers were sliding beneath her riding habit, gliding across the bare flesh of her chest in a way she’d never felt, never imagined. The tips of his fingers brushed the row of lace at the top of her chemise, then slipped beneath it, startling her so much she froze. She stayed that way, not wanting to move, even to twitch, lest he stop the delicious exploration.

The flesh of his fingers was harder than hers, slightly calloused, his touch so light it made her shiver, and all the while his mouth roamed her neck, the flat hard plane of her chest. And then his hand was cupping her breast, his lips edging onto its soft curve.

It was shocking. She should be shocked. She was certain she should not make that moaning sound and dig her hand into his shoulder. “Con...” Her breath caught in her throat. She had no idea what she wanted other than that she didn’t want him to stop. She never wanted him to stop.

But when he did stop, it was only to seek her mouth again, and that was equally entrancing. His hands roamed down her body, over the thin cloth of her chemise, rounding down over her buttocks. His fingertips dug in then, lifting her into him, so that she felt him pulse against her. The only coherent thought Lilah had was how glad she was that she never wore a corset with her riding habit.

Lilah’s hands were at his waist, and she slid them up over the soft silk of his waistcoat, wishing she could slide her palms over his bare skin, as he had done to her. Still, it was good to have only his silk waistcoat and shirt between them. Even better, in the wide V made by his waistcoat, there was only his shirt between his skin and hers. She could feel the form of him, the bone overlaid by muscle. And, she noted, it seemed to please him, for his kiss turned hotter, more consuming. She eased her fingertips under the sides of his vest, and that made him shudder.

Con took her jacket in his hands and pulled it back and down, allowing his hands to roam freely over her. He kissed her lips, her face, her throat, his teeth toying with her earlobes, while his hands delved beneath the thin cotton chemise, caressing every inch of her skin. Deep within Lilah, an ache blossomed, flooding her with desire.

He bent his head to her breast, teasing the nipple with the tip of his tongue and shooting bright shards of pleasure through her. Lilah drew in her breath, shocked, and then, startling her even more, his mouth settled on her breast, pulling the sensitive bud into it. She sagged against the wall, her mind floating away as pleasure washed over her.

Lilah had never felt like this before, never ached and throbbed and hungered all over. And when he slipped his hand between her legs, with only the fabric of her skirt between them, she had to clamp her lips together to keep from crying out. His mouth pulled at her, his fingers moved against her core, and inside her the heat built until finally the oddest little burst of pleasure rippled up through her.