Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

Trouble.

“Ah, but life would be awfully boring without passions, sweeting,” soothed Alec. “Safe, but sadly flat.”

He smoothed at the tangle of her tresses. The darkness suddenly sharpened all of his senses. Touch—her hair was the texture of finespun silk. Smell—her scent was a beguiling mix of verbena and spice. Taste—her tears were salty as the storm-tossed Scottish seas.

Caro flinched ever so slightly as his lips brushed her cheek. She shifted, releasing a shaky sigh. Her chin lifted, and their mouths met.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

Alec felt her pull loose the sash of his dressing gown, her hands clutching at silk and skin. A groan mingled with a growl as her fingers grazed over the coarse curls on his chest.

He felt his resolve slipping away.

Her palms were now on his shoulders, tracing the dips and curves of his muscles. “You are so very solid and strong,” she whispered, drawing back from the kiss.

No, I am so very brittle and weak.

In another instant he feared his willpower would crack into a myriad of tiny crystalline shards.

“And so very warm.” She shivered and snuggled closer, teasing her tongue along the line of his jaw.

He wasn’t sure whether he was in agony or ecstasy.

Caro rocked against his body, molding her sweetly yielding shape to his. Entranced by the sensations shooting through his limbs, Alec needed several moments to realize she had untied the tabs of her gown and wriggled the sleeves and bodice down to her waist.

“Please hold me close, Alec.” Need resonated in her plea. She was still achingly vulnerable. And afraid. “The darkness is so very cold—I’m chilled to the bone.”

While Alec felt as if every pore of his flesh was on fire. “I have you, sweeting,” he replied, wanting to protect her from whatever nightmare was clawing at her consciousness. “You’re safe in my arms, and I won’t let go until you tell me to.”

Chapter Fourteen

Still half in a daze, Caro was aware of an encircling warmth, and suddenly her spirits brightened even though the surroundings were still blacker than the Devil’s lair.

Alec.

Through the thin layer of silk, she could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat, a calming counterpoint to her own racing pulse. Without thinking, she pushed the folds away, drawing comfort from the chiseled contours of his unclothed body.

“I like your textures,” she murmured, wishing she could feel him with more than the scant few square inches of her palm.

Flesh to flesh, limb to limb.

Heart to heart.

For one aching moment, she longed to make his pulse race, his blood heat, his steely reserve melt into a need as fierce as her own.

I want, in this instant, to be the only woman who matters.

Something deep within urged that it was now or never.

And maybe it was the muzziness still gripping her mind that allowed her to listen.

Finding her corset strings, Caro hurriedly unlaced them. She heard his harsh intake of breath but kept going, dizzily aware that she was only a hair’s breadth away from losing her nerve.

“Caro…”

Her chemise was next, then her drawers. Garters… stockings… his hand seemed to be fluttering over her flesh, whether trying to help or to hinder she couldn’t quite tell.

His warmth was now meltingly wonderful, like sunlight caressing her skin. With a wriggling stretch, she pressed closer.