She could not tear her gaze from his reflection. His body pressed close to hers; something she did not need to see to know. Every bit of her screamed his name, pleaded for more than a hint of his skin and sinew beneath layers of clothes. She pulled in a shaky breath and pretended to study her hair, to push a perfectly placed curl back into position.
He stalked around her, stopped between her and the mirror, and looked down at her, his eyes serious, his jaw firm. Even the usual sensual-yet-playful curve of his lips allowed no arching joke to appear. He kissed her. It was so light and so soft… the sincerest thing Lillian had ever experienced in her life.
He pulled away from her, and she growled a tiny bit and pulled him back, and he let her, but not before he said, “God’s truth, Lillian. No one is like you.”
She ripped her lips away from his to burrow against his heart. His wordsdid somethingto her, made her feel breakable. She laid her ear right where she could hear thethump, thump, thumpagainst his ribs, and she counted each one. Too big it was, his heart. She wanted to burrow all the way into his chest and make a home there right next to it.
What an odd thought. Too many fairy tales likely.
His hands stroked up and down her spine.
She spoke into the fine silk of his waistcoat. “I’ve changed my mind. I do not wish to go anywhere tonight except to bed with you.”
He groaned. “You have no idea what a temptation that is, Lillian, but we must. We must face down tittle-tattle, shine up our reputations, and—if I’m lucky—bring home enough winnings to make old Freddy’s final days on this earth damned magnificent.”
She nodded. He was right. They must accomplish all that this eve.
His arms wrapped about her, hugging tight. “If I laid you down upon that bed, it would be no quick bout of lovemaking. It would take all night and all morning, and I’d steal some days from you as well.”
“I give them to you freely.”
He swallowed, and she felt the muscles of his throat work through some emotion.Thump, thump, thump—faster now.
“Please. We have time. A little at least. Just enough, I’m sure,” she whispered before placing a chaste kiss underneath his chin, then again on the strong ridge of his neck. Her fingers dipped behind his cravat and lowered it slightly to place another kiss where no one could see. She hid it there for him to find later.
His hips bucked against her.
Ah. His body revealed the lie of his words. She could offer to help him find that kiss now, and if she pressed him just a bit, he’d let her. She let her hands wander down his abdomen, lower…
“No,” he said. His voice sounded as if he had just walked twenty miles with no water, hoarse and dry and desperate. He took her hand and dragged her to the window, throwing aside the curtains. “Look out there.”
She did, and he pressed his hard body up against the back of her. His hand caressing her jaw and the other hand branding her hip.
“Look down at them and see.” Devon feathered kisses along the outline of her ear and down her neck. He dipped near her ear and whispered, “Do you see the entire world down there at your feet?” He nipped her ear with his teeth and tugged gently on it until she moaned. “Tonight, you will walk among them, but you must remember you are not one of them.”
“A goddess?” She breathed the words, liking his touch more than his speech. She had no use for the usual charming compliments he gave to other women.
“I told you before. No. You’remine. What you are is undefinable. You are neither touchable nor obtainable. But somehow, I have caught you. I do not know what that makes you except for—”
“Yours.”
“Mine.” He turned her with a strong hand on her shoulder. Her skirts swished in the frenzied movement, and he hit his knees before her and tugged her until he could press his lips low on her abdomen. He placed a searing kiss on her belly, and then his fingers danced downward, clutched her hem, and raised it higher, higher, higher, until the fresh air cooled the sliver of skin above her garters.
He grinned up at her, a wicked curl of his lips that sent a shivering thrill through her. His thumbs caressed her inner thigh, and his gaze dragged down her body, stopping and concentrating on her very center. She clutched at the curtain to close it.
“Leave it open,” he said. A direct order.
She couldn’t! There were people down there. What if they looked up? What if—
Then he did such wonderful things with his tongue that her mind gave up thinking of anything else in the world but him. Did she leave the curtain open? Or had she closed it before he’d set his lipsjust thereand donejust thatwith his tongue? She couldn’t say. She could not care that she could not say.
There was only him and the slow, inexorable unfolding of pleasure in her belly, branching out like rumors whispered about town to tangle in her breasts, down her arms, and numb her fingers and toes.
“Cannot,” she gasped, “I cannot stay up right.”
A chuckle from under her skirts. He would offer no help. Or was he currently being the most helpful man in England?
She fell against the window, a helpless heap. After her arse connected with the window seat, he threw her skirt up, looked at her with that devilish grin, then glanced behind her out the window, smirked, and returned to his ministrations.
