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Hold back, ye randy bastard.
They were on a damn garden bench on a cold autumn night, and all he could think of was having his way with her? He’d never been so close to losing control. But her delicate kisses, followed by the luscious sweep of her tongue, turned him rock-hard with desire.
Unable to hold back, he finally stroked into her mouth with greedy, demanding desire. Shuddering, Kathleen dug her fingers into his coat before responding with a passion that almost knocked him off the bench a second time.
After heated minutes that brought him to the brink of losing every vestige of control, Kathleen gasped and pulled back.
Grant stilled. “Do you want me to stop?” he gritted out.
She peered up at him, puzzled. “Why would I want you to stop?”
“Becauseyoujust stopped. I don’t want to push you, sweetheart.”
She made an exasperated noise. “Silly. I just had to catch my breath.”
When he chuckled, she started to pull him back down. He evaded her mouth, pressing kisses along her jawline before flicking her dangling earbob with his tongue and then licking the edge of her ear.
“Goodness,” she breathily said.
He nipped her earlobe. She dug her fingers into his coat, as if needing to keep her balance. Smiling to himself, Grant moved down the lovely line of her neck, kissing his way to the dainty curve of her breasts. Kathleen pressed a hand to the back of his skull, melting in his arms.
When he flicked his tongue over the top of her plump breast, she squirmed. Grant came to the belated realization that she was now fully bent over his arm. He’d soon be dipping under the edge of her stays and searching for her tender nipple. Under the circumstances—sitting on a cold bench with a house party roaring away behind them—it counted as supremely idiotic behavior.
Regretfully, he moved away from the temptation posed by her breasts. But when he paused to drag his tongue over the fluttering pulse in her throat, Kathleen breathed out a delicious moan that sent a bolt of heat to his groin.
He lifted his head and took her mouth in a deep, devouring kiss. As she trembled in his arms, Grant thanked every saint in the heavens for the fact that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
But then something penetrated the haze of passion in his brain, something that had been trying to punch through.
He froze.
Kathleen’s eyelids fluttered open. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a soft, husky voice.
That voice tempted him to forget what his brain was trying to tell him.
He couldn’t, though.
“Do you smell smoke?” he asked.
She looked befuddled for a moment, then her brows snapped together. “Yes.”
Grant kept a loose hold on her as he scanned the back of the house, looking for the source.
“It’s quite strong,” she added in a concerned tone.
“Yes.” And it smelled wrong. Not like a normal fire from the kitchens or one of the chimneys.
“You can let me go,” she said. “I won’t topple over.”
He glanced at her and grimaced. Both her dress and her hair were more than a wee bit disheveled. “Sorry, lass.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He gave her a hand up. She drew the cloak around herself and followed him out of the gazebo. Grant again scanned the house, then cast a quick glance toward the stables and outbuildings. He saw nothing, even though the acrid smell was growing stronger.
“Can you go to the kitchen and alert the housekeeper?” he asked. “Mrs. Wilson needs to check the house.”
She nodded. “Where are you going?”
