“I don’t like to waste time. We both know I’m perfectly willing to be caught. Can we take the headlong pursuit as read?”
His heart leaped. She was out of the usual run of women. The searing curiosity to see whether she carried that daring into bed intoxicated him. Still, he tried to pretend she didn’t captivate him utterly.
“I need to be interested in pursuing.”
Even without seeing her face, he knew she stared back in blatant disbelief. Who could blame her? Attraction sparked between them like electricity. “Aren’t you?”
The crowd shifted again. The illusion that he and this gorgeous, troublesome woman were alone in a glass bubble shattered. A man dressed like Henry VIII jostled Diana, propelled her into Ashcroft’s chest.
As her head jerked up, her gasp of surprise feathered his jaw. Automatically, he reached to catch her, circling her slender arms with his hands. His heart slammed against his ribs, then began to gallop. Desire flared, hotter than Hades.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a strangled voice.
That damnable smile was back. The urge to kiss it from her full lips became nigh irresistible. “Yes.”
He waited for her to straighten. Instead, she trailed one gloved hand down his jaw. “You’re not as invincible as you claim, my lord.”
The noisy, whirling world careened to a standstill as she nestled her hips into his. His cock throbbed against her skirts. Any show of indifference was futile. He realized the glitter in her eyes was excitement. He wasn’t the only one responding to the building awareness.
Some survival instinct made him fight back although nothing could make him draw away. “It’s mere human reaction.”
She laughed, the sound low and alluring, and stretched up on her toes. The sensation of her body lengthening against his almost blew the top of his head off.
“Oh, you’re human, my lord.”
Her lips came closer. He should avoid her, but an attraction beyond anything he’d known in years, perhaps ever, held him transfixed.
He braced himself for the touch of her mouth but at the last, she hesitated. The scent of apples swam in his head. Her warmth seeped through his clothing to his skin. Briefly, he recalled the impression of innocence she’d left after their first meeting. An impression at odds with everything else about her.
Her fleeting uncertainty passed, and she pressed her mouth to his.
Shock held him still. Through the riot in his head, he knew he should have expected this. She’d hardly been shy at their first meeting, even if she hadn’t assaulted him.
Not that this was exactly assault…
Her kiss was astonishingly sweet. Barely sexual. The tentative cling of her lips. The honey taste of her mouth. The glorious closeness of her body.
The scent of apples left him tipsy as if he’d downed a bottle of brandy.
His arms curled around her, drew her into his heat, so he felt the wild hammer of her heart. To his surprise, she stiffened before abruptly melting. With that softening, her mouth opened, and her tongue flickered out to trace the seam of his lips. His daze faded, and his hold tightened. He answered her foray with an exploratory sweep of his tongue. She moaned, and the muffled sound hurled his excitement to the sky.
She kissed him back, but something made him pause. Her reaction puzzled him, forced him to fight through the fog in his brain. For a woman so outspoken about what she wanted, her response seemed unsure. As if it was a long time since she’d kissed anyone.
Given her lavish beauty, this was so unbelievable, he lifted his head and stared at her. Holy God, what he’d give to see her face right now.
This wasn’t the place. Already, the ball whirled out of control. Drunken whooping echoed off the walls, and he wasn’t the only fellow taking liberties with his companion.
If Diana was indeed a respectable widow, mindful of her reputation, he couldn’t shame her before the dregs of society. And his intentions toward her rapidly became a private matter.
Her lips were damp from his, red and swollen. A delicate flush marked what he could see of her pale skin.
He slid one hand down her arm to seize her gloved hand. For a woman with seduction in mind, she liked to cover herself. Her dark red dress might cause comment at a county assembly. Here, among the demimonde, it seemed as modest as a nun’s habit.
His glance dipped to her bodice, which offered teasing glimpses of her magnificent breasts. His groin tightened. She might display her charms with more subtlety than he was accustomed to, but that didn’t mean they lacked appeal.
“What’s wrong?”
Part of him, the part capable of thought, noted she no longer sounded like a worldly siren but like a woman dazzled by unexpected pleasure. She hadn’t kissed like a siren either. She’d kissed him like she meant it.