Eleanor returned an arch smile. “You may divine whatever meaning you choose, Lord Wrexham.”
“Very well…” Damon leaned toward her, pausing with his mouth barely inches from hers.
She froze, feeling stupidly breathless and dizzy at his proximity. “What do you think you are doing?” she managed to rasp.
“It's called kissing, Eleanor. You have done it before-with me, in fact. Several times…”
He bent his head before she could protest. The pressure was light, only the barest touch of his warm mouth to hers, but it promised so much more-which doubtless explained the shock of desire that jolted through her.
Her heart suddenly pounding, Eleanor drew back sharply, even though all her senses were alive with awareness and alertness and excitement.
“Damon!” she declared tartly. “You cannot just kiss me whenever you feel the urge.”
“No, but I want to prove a point.”
When she made to rise, though, he grasped her shoulders to keep her from fleeing. “Let me try again…”
Eleanor's entire body went rigid, yet she found it impossible to struggle against Damon's light hold.
What was it about this devilish rogue that demolished all her common sense? Eleanor wondered, cursing her weakness for him. She should push him away, but he was so enchantingly close. His virile warmth spoke to some primal feminine instinct in her, while that beautiful, wicked mouth enticed her…
She watched, paralyzed, as his mouth moved even closer. When his breath fanned against her lips, she inhaled raggedly. Then Damon's lips caressed hers again, alluring, whisper soft.
His mouth was as delicious as she remembered, his taste as heady. Warmth spreading through her, Elea nor felt herself melting as his lips slowly twisted and pulled at hers.
When his hands slid from her shoulders to her upper arms, sensation skittered up her nerve endings and danced over her skin. Then Damon deepened the pressure of his kiss, settling his mouth more fully on hers while drawing her against his hard body.
When his tongue penetrated her lips in a sensual invasion, a heated rush of feeling assaulted Eleanor. His taste was incredibly arousing. She shivered at the warm stroke of his rough-silk tongue inside her mouth.
Of their own accord, her hands rose to clutch Damon's shoulders, and she could feel the hardness of his corded muscles beneath her fingertips.
At the same time his fingertips drifted to her bodice to skim the underside of her breasts. When his strong hands cupped the swells beneath the muslin, Eleanor shuddered at the riveting sensation.
A helpless sigh whispered from deep in her throat as he began to stroke her with stunning sensuality. His long fingers shaped her breasts, his palms molding the weight, while his thumbs coaxed her nipples, making the sensitive tips engorge painfully under his light touch.
Eleanor gave a breathless whimper-a sound that Damon evidently heard, for his caresses slowed before he finally ended their embrace.
She was dazed and trembling when he drew back.
His eyes smoldered with heat as he stared back at her. “You felt that, didn't you?” he murmured, his voice hoarse and deep.
“Felt w-what?”
“The sparks between us.”
Oh, yes. Heaven help her. The sparks were still there between them, running along her nerve endings, over her skin, flaring inside her. Eleanor couldn't believe how powerful, how searing they were.
Unable to look away from the dark intensity of Damon's gaze, she swallowed mutely.
“Do you feel those same sparks with your prince?” he prodded.
She had only one answer to give: No. Damon still sparked a fire inside her that she had never felt with any other man, including Prince Lazzara. Damn him.
Eleanor abruptly gave herself a fierce mental shake. Damon was weaving the exact same spell over her as he had two years ago, and like a fool, she was allowing it, despite all the pain he had caused her then.
With effort, she rose unsteadily to her feet, ignoring how weak her knees were. It was dismaying- appalling even-to find herself just as attracted to her former betrothed as she'd once been. It was galling, her inability to resist Damon. And it was frustrating in the extreme, knowing he had deliberately kissed her to prove a point-that she still wanted him and that her new suitor couldn't compare to him in terms of passion.
Her ire rose along with her dismay, but Eleanor clamped it down, knowing she would get further with Damon if she remained cool and composed.