My Reckless Surrender

As quickly as that, his cock rose hard and ready.

“Take off your bonnet,” he demanded harshly.

Wordlessly, she obeyed. Her hands were steady as she lifted the gauzy draperies, untied her bonnet, and laid it on the facing seat.

She raised a troubled gray gaze to his. Marks of sleeplessness stood out beneath her eyes. She clearly shared his disquiet about their attraction. Although God knew why. She’d asked for this.

The air was baking, weighted with unspoken feeling and building lust. Delicate color lined her cheekbones, and her tongue flickered out to moisten her lips. Arousal jolted him, made a mockery of his attempts to maintain the upper hand.

Without shifting his stare from her face, he reached up and knocked sharply on the ceiling. His driver had orders to cover the park until Ashcroft indicated otherwise. The carriage rolled into motion, and Diana lurched as she briefly lost balance. He caught a drift of her scent. Something floral and under it all that damnably evocative perfume of apples.

“Sit across my lap,” he snapped. His hunger reached such a level, he lost capacity for sweet persuasion.

Silence extended. Silence marked by the clop of horses’ hooves and the creaking of the carriage. Silence vibrating with a thousand possibilities.

She licked her lips again. Slowly this time. He bit back a groan. Her gaze dropped to the bulge in the front of his trousers.

When she looked up, the gray depths held curiosity and desire. And, inevitably, secrets.

Without shifting her attention, she rose onto her knees, hitched up her skirts and straddled him.

Chapter Six

As she spread her thighs across Ashcroft’s lap, Diana forced air into her starving lungs. She felt like she hadn’t breathed since she’d entered the stuffy carriage. She drowned in Lord Ashcroft’s evocative scent. Her heart slammed against her chest as if it wanted to break free.

The carriage jolted again, and she grabbed Ashcroft’s powerful shoulders. He vibrated with urgency. She knew he wanted her. The impressive erection straining toward her was indication enough, even if she didn’t read his drawn, unfixing concentration as desire.

The time had arrived.

If she proceeded, she set Lord Burnley’s scheme into motion. It would be too late to retreat. She sold herself for worldly reward. Her honor would be irretrievably lost.

If she balked, she’d miss this incredible chance to change her life. Her talents would remain forever unfulfilled. She’d have to deal with Burnley’s anger and her own knowledge that at the crucial juncture, her courage had failed.

She steeled herself to go on.

She’d created this moment. She couldn’t shirk from seizing it. The opportunity to place her imprint on Cranston Abbey was worth it.

Right now she was grateful Ashcroft didn’t treat her with consideration. Tenderness would break her. Meaningless copulation was all she wanted. Nothing to hint at last night’s fleeting, unwelcome intimacy.

The exchange was clear in her mind.

He wanted her body. She wanted his seed. A fair exchange, surely? This unemotional encounter saved her from despising herself as a complete hypocrite.

If heaven had mercy, she wouldn’t enjoy what happened. She didn’t want pleasure, even as the memory stirred of last night’s stunning climax. With unnecessary violence, she ripped her gloves off before returning her hands to his shoulders.

He leaned forward to kiss her.

Dear God, no. None of those bewitching kisses. That was how she’d run into trouble before, letting him gull her into believing more happened than a joining of bodies.

Abruptly she turned. His lips glanced across her cheek.

Even that much contact exploded heat through her, but she battled her arousal. Her hands fisted in the fine black material of his coat. Although whether she pushed him away or pulled him closer, she couldn’t say.

For one broken instant, she recalled the last time she’d accepted a man into her body. It had been with love and sweetness and trust. A thousand miles distant from what she did now.

Remembering William while she poised to take another man was the ultimate heresy.

Ashcroft sucked in a hissing breath. “Damn you, Diana, I want to kiss you,” he snarled, and grabbed her face, forcing her to meet his blazing green eyes. He was pale under his tan, and a muscle flickered in his cheek. His dark, intense face reflected her own conflicted emotions.