“No doubt.”
His fingers closing more tightly around hers, he rolled onto his side and gently tugged her down to lie on the blanket opposite him.
They lay facing each other with their gazes locked, barely breathing. There it was again—that intimate awareness between them. The connection she had never felt with any other man, along with a jolt of desire so strong it made her shiver.
“Darling Sophie …”
How did he make her name sound like a caress? And how did he have such a powerful effect on her?
“You have a lovely mouth, sweet Sophie. Let me taste you.”
She wanted to taste him also, she thought as her gaze dropped to his mouth. He was so close, she was sure he could feel the longing thrumming through her body.
While she deliberated, he brought her hand to his cheekbone. Without conscious thought, she touched his face in return, exploring the chiseled contours, the stubble of morning whiskers on his jaw, the firm lips.…
At his murmur of approval, she lifted her gaze to his again, to the dark eyes fringed with heavy lashes. His eyes were so beautiful. The dancing lights in the inky depths were mesmerizing.
Why did he captivate her so? Every time he touched her, she felt a sudden, sharp leap of hunger deep inside her. And she was woman enough to recognize the heated sparks in his eyes. He wanted her, she was certain of it.
But he was leaving the decision to her.
She really had no choice, though. She wanted to feel his mouth against hers with a kind of desperation that startled her.
Taking a shaky breath, Sophie rose onto one elbow and leaned closer so that she could bend down to him. Her kiss was tentative at first, until his hand slid behind her head to increase the pressure.
And just like that, he took the lead from her, moving his mouth over hers with extraordinary slowness. The combination of heat and languid motion was unbelievably sensual. She felt soft and achy inside at the deliberate, overpowering seduction of her senses.
Her woman’s body craving the maleness of him, she leaned closer and draped herself over Lord Jack, pressing the softness of her breasts into the hard wall of his chest, feeling the solid play of muscle beneath her body.
His tongue slid inside her mouth to meet hers then, and he drew her against him, until the hard blade of his arousal prodded her loins through her skirts. She was not sexually experienced, but she had garnered enough knowledge from Martha to know what to expect from carnal relations.
Lord Jack was highly stimulated, she could tell.
As was she.
When his hand slipped beneath her cloak and molded to the curve of her breast, Sophie gave a soft moan at the shocking trail of fire he ignited deep down inside her.
That helpless sound set warning bells ringing in her head. She was enjoying him far, far too much. She had to go, for if she continued on this way, she would never leave.
Regretfully breaking off their kiss, Sophie opened her eyes. His had gone fire-dark as he stared back at her. He was thinking wicked thoughts, she knew he was. She bit her lip at the brazen images forming in her own mind.
Without breaking eye contact, he laced his fingers in hers and brought her palm to his lips. The tender gesture was perfectly simple but somehow even more erotic than anything he’d done before. Sophie felt her body go liquid and weak as the blaze of wanting flamed higher.
Fighting the sensation, she inhaled a ragged breath. Summoning her fragile willpower, she edged away from Lord Jack, then pushed shakily to her feet. “I cannot stay any longer,” she murmured in explanation, absently brushing a wayward curl back from her flushed face.
Surprisingly he didn’t object as he also rose. “I know. But there is hope for you yet.”
“Hope?”
The smile he sent her was amused but tender. “We made good progress today with your insurrection. Give me enough time and I will turn you into a full-fledged rebel.”
Sophie opened her mouth to refute him but knew he was right. He was effortlessly weaving his spell about her; she could feel his enchantment drawing her closer. And given enough time, she feared he would succeed.
She watched mutely as Lord Jack folded the blanket and carried it and the cloth and flask to his saddlebag, then mounted his horse.
He urged the bay up the bank before glancing back down at her. “Forgive me but I won’t be joining your guests for breakfast. My body needs to cool off first.”
With a wicked smile, Lord Jack nudged his horse into a canter across the bridge and was gone.