“Desire for you.” He stroked her cheek. “Disbelief that I’m here, lying next to you. You’re so beautiful.”
She shook her head. “Ashley is beautiful. Maddie is striking. I’m the fun one.”
“You’re that too, and you’re beautiful to me.”
She didn’t know why, but her heart seemed to expand in her chest when he spoke those words. She’d heard them before, knew they were lies men told women to be polite or to get what they wanted, but Westman looked so sincere. His eyes did not lie. Josie leaned down and kissed his soft, full lips and felt his hand on her back tighten.
As always, he kissed her deeply, with passion and desire, but there was something else there as well. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Had it been there before?
He deepened the kiss, his tongue thrusting into her as she imagined he wanted to do with his body, and then he was pulling her on top of him.
She rose, using his chest as a lever, and he smiled up at her. “You look like a goddess on your throne.”
She positioned herself above him, felt his hard erection graze her aching core. “Are you prepared to worship me?”
“I’m prepared to offer myself up for your pleasure.”
She took the tip of him inside her, just the tip, and he groaned. His hands settled on her hips, holding her tightly, and yet she was still in control.
“More,” he breathed. “Please, please, more.”
She slid a fraction lower, and he closed his eyes, his expression mirroring pain. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
“You’re torturing me. Put me out of my misery.”
And with one last movement, she took him fully inside her. His hard length stretched her and filled her with swirls of pleasure that danced and multiplied. And then she moved, and the coils danced faster, spinning inside her and driving her onward.
“You feel so good,” he ground out, matching her rhythm. “So tight. So beautiful.”
And when she looked down at him, the heat of his gaze made her body tighten.
“So beautiful,” he repeated, and then she arched back and the pleasure inside her reached a crescendo. She bucked against him, unable to slow her movements. Her body wanted fast, fast, fast. Inside her, she could feel him swell and thicken, and she bit her lip to stifle the cry. But it was too late and the orgasm too strong. With a final thrust, she flew over the edge, crying with the joy of it, falling against him, only to be caught by his warm, strong arms.
STEPHEN HELD HER AS she slept. He’d told her about his past, and she still hadn’t understood her fate. She still thought the treasure could save her.
And maybe it could. If one had enough money, Society could forgive anything. But Stephen was not going to rely on fool’s gold. Treasure or no, Josie would be his. And if their families disapproved, damn them all. He’d rather go to hell than watch Josie suffer for his mistakes.
He looked at Josie again. Even now, lying in his arms, he knew she wasn’t dreaming of him. She was dreaming of treasure. The challenge of the treasure.
She wanted a challenge, an adventure? He’d give her one.
Morning came quickly and Stephen and Josie were on their way before dawn had fully broken. Stephen had been studying the treasure map and had decided the most likely place to begin their search of the Cornish coast was Polperro. A sheltered village of fishermen with quaint cottages and Saxon and Roman bridges, Polperro was known for its smuggling. Wagonloads of contraband left the city, traveling across the Bodmin Moor to London.
The place had been mentioned more than once in James Doubleday’s journals. He and Nathan Hale had owned several houses with cellars where they could hide and dodge the customs men. Stephen had told Josie of his plan, and she had agreed, then promptly fell back asleep on the other side of the carriage.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d awakened her two more times in the night and made love to her. He couldn’t get enough of her, and for once, maybe that had been to his advantage. It was better if she slept now. She’d need her strength for treasure hunting.
She slept most of the morning, and by two or three in the afternoon, they’d arrived in Polperro. Stephen woke her, then instructed the driver to take them on a brisk ride along the coastline. He and Josie watched for terrain that matched the map, but after an hour, they gave up and decided to stop at an inn.
Stephen would have eaten and stayed in for the night, preferring to start their search fresh in the morning, but Josie had slept all day and was more than eager to begin. She argued that waiting would give the men who had attacked them at the inn time to track and follow them. Now was the safest time to search.
She all but dragged him out of the inn, and as the sun sank lower behind the pretty color-washed houses of the village, they headed down to the beach.
It had been a sunny day that had heated up the shore enough so that by afternoon it was still pleasant to walk. The last rays of sun filtered through the clouds when Josie and Stephen stepped onto the beach. There were not many other people out at this time. A few fishermen pulled boats in, hauling their catch toward the town; and a family played in the surf and sand, the children dancing in the cold water.
“This is nice,” Josie said, turning to him and giving him that smile that melted his heart every time.
“A bit domestic for me,” he lied, and she nodded as though that was exactly what she’d expected him to say.
