What You Desire (Anything for Love 1)

Sebastian knew why he was kissing her.

From the moment she had stood on her toes, pressed her soft body up against him and teased him with her wandering hands, he had struggled to think of anything else.

He expected the kiss to last mere seconds, but this was a woman who defied his expectations. Foolishly, he’d convinced himself the kiss was simply a way of highlighting her naiveté, to demonstrate the dangers an innocent woman might face once alone in the city.

Then a sigh left her lips and the thought left him.

Relaxing his grip, he let his hand roam over her lower back as his lips moved slowly and smoothly over her sweet mouth. She responded to his touch, pressing herself against him, molding herself into him and he could feel the swell of her breasts through the fine fabric, could feel the heat radiating from her body.

He continued slowly, curbing his desire, telling himself she would come to her senses and break contact. Then her hand drifted up over his chest, up to caress the back of his neck, her fingers stroking in a slow, seductive rhythm. Her lips parted on another soft sigh and he could not hold back.

His tongue traced the line of her lips, desperate to taste her, to possess her. She opened for him, her untutored tongue meeting his with a need that matched his own. Their breathing became shallow and rapid and he let his hands move further down her back, cupping her and drawing her closer in an attempt to ease his throbbing manhood.

Desire gripped him like a whirlpool, pulling him down, sucking him under.

Good Lord. What had happened to Beaufort’s sister while he had been away?

The thought caused a jolt of awareness, jerking him to his senses, as though he’d just stepped on a carpet of nails with his bare feet.

What the hell was he doing?

He should be acting like a respectable guardian, not some scoundrel in need of sexual gratification. He tore his lips away and tried to shake the desire raging through him.

What had started out as a plan to enlighten her, had turned into one of the most stimulating experiences of his entire life.

He looked down at the delectable Miss Beaufort. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen. Her dark, silky locks hung wildly over her shoulders and he fought the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her off to his bed.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes, telling himself this could not happen again, not with his friend’s sister. This was supposed to be about reigning in the wayward Miss Beaufort. He needed to put some distance between them. And he knew exactly how to do it.

Sebastian stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “As the exercise proves, the only thing protecting your reputation is my respect for your family. And, as you are now aware, courage is a useless weapon against a man’s voracious appetite.”

Miss Beaufort inhaled sharply, her eyes wild with contempt.

“As a woman you will always be weak in that regard,” he continued calmly, arrogance dripping from every word, yet inside his body still burned with desire. “To place oneself at such risk accomplishes nothing.”

Had it been any other inexperienced woman, he would have expected tears — the uncontrollable sobs of shame and mortification. Unsurprisingly, Miss Beaufort stood frozen to the spot, her tightly clenched fists hanging by her sid

es. The bright pink glow warming her face reflected anger rather than embarrassment.

She turned away from him, her head moving left and right, searching the room.

Perhaps he was wrong and she was about to cry. Guilt flared as he knew he’d sounded cold and unfeeling.

Straightening her back and raising her chin, she walked gracefully over to the side table. Making a clinking sound, she removed the crystal stopper from a decanter of brandy and poured a measure. In two gulps, she drained the glass and he watched her shake visibly as the liquid fire trickled down her throat. She gave a little cough and a short exhale before slamming the glass down on the table.

When she swung around to face him, her countenance appeared much improved, but her eyes looked as though they could turn a man to stone.

“I fear I am inclined to agree with you,” she said calmly.

He could hardly believe his ears. Finally, the lady was listening. He could not help but feel smug. A sense of masculine pride enveloped him and patted him on the back.

“You see, I have always believed I had a passionate nature. Indeed, I did not know how passionate until a moment ago when you kindly conducted your little experiment.” She strolled around the room, picking up objects: a paperweight, a book of sonnets, a pipe tamper in the form of a naked woman, examining them and placing them down again. “I must say I found the experience quite overwhelming.”

There was something different about her voice. It had lost all traces of innocence; her tone held a seductive, alluring quality that sung to him. Sebastian straightened as he fought against the memory of their passionate exchange.

“Indeed, I am aware such a passion spills over into all aspects of life,” she continued. “If I am to be so easily coerced and dissuaded from my path, then I am not being true to my nature.” She looked up to meet his gaze, her sapphire-blue eyes piercing his soul. “But you are correct, my lord. As a woman, I fear I shall attract entirely the wrong sort of attention.”

“Precisely, Miss Beaufort,” Sebastian said, swallowing deeply. “Which is why —”