Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"Yes. He deserved to know. An honorable man always deserves the truth."

"Does he know that you intend to drag me back to England?"

"We didn't discuss that."

She was still clutching the nightgown in front of her. Her hair was loose and flowing about her shoulders, the way he liked it.

"I don't know what to do."

"I will tell you what you're going to do at this moment. You are going to drop that nightgown and show me your beautiful body. Then you are going to leap into my arms, wrap yourself around me, and let me kiss every inch of you."

She looked at him, suspicion, uncertainty, and if he weren't mistaken, a bit of interest in her eyes. He grinned. "Every inch," he said, his voice low.

"I never thought an English gentleman --- and English earl, for heaven's sake --- would speak in such a manner."

"I am just a man, Diana. I save my peerage for the realm, and my gentlemanliness for my clubs."

"Will you get me with child?"

That bald question took him aback, but just for a moment. "Yes, I will do my best. We will make a battalion of children, if you wish." He wanted to add that she could possibly already be carrying his child, but he didn't. He also remembered the awful time Frances had had birthing her child. He paused, but just for a moment. "Come, Diana."

He held out his hand to her, palm up. She looked at his strong hand, the long, blunt-tipped fingers. She felt a shiver run through her. She thought him exquisite. She had never believed she would find a man she would think exquisite. She sighed and climbed onto the bed beside him.

"I don't like the canopy," she said, feeling his hand gently slide from her waist down her hip to her thigh.

"Let us remove it, then."

He leaned over her and studied her face in the moonlight. Lightly, he touched his finger to her lips, slowly tracing their outline.

"Did you like the crab backs?"

"Oh, yes, immensely."

He brought his leg over hers and she felt the crinkly hair slide along her thighs. His hand lightly cupped her breast, lifting it, weighing it in his palm.

"Did you like the shrimp casserole?"

"Most tasty."

A fingertip brushed against her nipple. He was looking down at her intently, his eyes following his finger.

"Do you like me?"

His eyes gleamed. "You are the tastiest of all," he said, and kissed her. "Open your mouth, Diana."

She obeyed him and felt his tongue lightly touch hers. A shaft of pure pleasure skittered down her body, and her hips jerked upward.

"Ah, yes," he said, and deepened his kiss. His hand moved downward, coming to rest on her thigh.

"Open your legs."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His gaze was intense and the movement of his fingers was driving her mad. "Will you touch me?" Was that her voice, she wondered vaguely, so high and thin as turtle soup without the turtle?

"You mean like this?"

His fingers gently parted her, and the slight pressure on her woman's flesh made her gasp. She couldn't look away from him and knew that everything she was feeling was written clearly on her face for him to see. She felt embarrassed and urgent.

"And like this?" He slipped a long finger inside her.