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Why wasn’t he reacting to her rejection of him? Emma’s plan was not working.“That is all you can say? I see?”
“What more is there to say?” he asked in a dark tone.
“Tell me how it is unfair that two friends cannot meet on a terrace with nothing more than friendship on their mind.” Louisa set her snifter down. When she looked up, he was in front of her.
“Who said there is nothing more on either of our minds?”
“Wh—What do you mean?”
He leaned in closer until she could smell the familiar scent of him, leather, cinnamon, and tonight brandy. “You never push me away when I kiss you, Louisa.” He drew a finger down her jaw until it reached her lips. “Why is that?”
“Why, Harry, I do believe you are drunk.”
He smiled in a feral way that sent shivers down her spine. “Not even close to being foxed, my dear.”
“Then you must be mad,” she whispered, unable to look away from those piercing gray eyes.
“Yes, madness this is.” He skimmed her jaw with light kisses until she shivered. “Did you enjoy sitting next to Collingwood tonight? He seemed to hang on to your every word.”
“Of course, he is a perfect gentleman.”
“Unlike me?” Harry asked before his tongue grazed her earlobe.
She moaned softly. “It appeared you were paying particular attention to Mary tonight,” she managed to say in a breathless tone.
“Did that bother you?” He pulled away and stared down at her. “Were you jealous that I was speaking with her instead of you?”
She couldn’t look away from his searching gray eyes. Heat crossed her cheeks and down her neck. How could she tell him her true feelings when they were supposed to stay away from each other? But she had no desire to be apart from him.
“Oh, Harry,” she barely whispered before his mouth was on hers. She clung to him, grateful for the support of the desk behind her. Her knees felt as if they would buckle as his tongue played with hers.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body against his, feeling the strength of his arms securing her to him. Rational thought slipped away with each swipe of his tongue on hers. Her senses were overwhelmed with the taste of brandy on his tongue, the scent of his spicy soap, and the strength of his body against hers. The room seemed so hot. All she wanted to do was rid herself of her clothing and feel his skin against her.
No man had ever made her so crazed with lust. It should have felt wrong to be this intimate with Harry, and yet it felt incredibly right. She could not get enough of him and never would.
“Louisa,” he whispered as she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat. “We must stop.”
“Please don’t say a word,” she said, skimming her hands over the garment. She desperately wanted to feel the heat of his skin under her hands. Glancing up at him, she saw the raw hunger in his gray eyes.
Quickly his mouth returned to hers as they both fought the passion between them. Louisa knew she was close to losing all control and not caring about the consequences. Why shouldn’t she have one chance with Harry? At least when she was an old spinster, she would have the memories of this night. Somehow, he had loosened the lacing on her dress and stays enough to pull the gown down over her breasts. He eased his large hand under the top of her stays and freed her breasts f
rom their confinement.
When his mouth moved to one nipple, she thought her legs would give out. The sensation of his tongue brushing against the peak sent even more moisture between her legs. She moaned as he suckled her.
“Harry,” she whispered as his hand slowly lifted the hem of her skirts. His fingers grazed her thigh until she felt him press a finger between her folds. She gasped at the contact.
Desire spiraled upward as he found that special spot. Never in the years, she’d known him had she felt anything but friendship for him. But now...now she wanted this Harry, the madly passionate man in her arms.
A loud commotion at the front door split them apart in an instant. The cool air against Louisa’s breasts brought her back to reality. Louisa gasped as she realized how close she’d come to giving herself to him.
“Where the bloody hell is she?” a booming male from the front hall shouted.
“Oh God, it’s Raynerson,” Louisa whispered.
“Turn around quickly,” Harry said before setting her stays and gown in order. “Jenkins will stall him. Fix your hair.”
She looked in the mirror and paused. Her face was flush, her lips swollen from heated kisses and her hair in shambles from Harry’s hands. While he donned his waistcoat and jacket, she pushed her hair back into place before sitting down in the chair by the fireplace.
