Desire (Notorious 3)

Brynn could well understand why so many women had been seduced by him. His smile held a wickedly irresistible appeal. That, along with his raw magnetism and devastating charm, was a potent force indeed.

Against her will, she felt herself being drawn to him. And she had little doubt that he was ruthless enough to make trouble for her if she failed to do his bidding.

Capitulating with a silent oath, Brynn returned to sit beside him on the settee, yet she kept her spine rigid and refused to look at him. “I should think a rake of your legendary skill would be able to find more willing females,” she grumbled, “instead of trying to ravish me at every turn.”

His soft laugh was a velvet rasp. “I hate to disappoint you, darling, but this is not ravishment. Only a kiss.”

Only a kiss, Brynn thought wildly. Then why was her pulse so erratic?

Her senses assailed by his nearness, she focused all her effort on resistance, summoning every ounce of willpower she possessed. The earl had leaned toward her, his lips nuzzling her neck… her earlobe.

“So sweet,” he murmured. “As delicate as spun sugar.”

“Will you please simply be done with it?” Brynn said through clenched teeth.

His long fingers came to cradle her cheek as he turned her face toward his. “You will have to unlock your jaw first,” he murmured softly, a sensual undertone of laughter in his voice. “How can we test your claim if you won’t participate?”

“I have no need to test my claim. I don’t consider it in dispute. And I don’t wish to kiss you.”

“Then simply humor me. Part your lips, treasure, and let me taste you.”

“I really do not want-” Her protest was cut off by the soft, erotic pressure of his mouth. It touched hers lightly, brushing across her flesh like silken warmth.

She murmured another protest, yet the feelings that rose in her put the lie to her words as his kiss deepened. His fingers drifted over her face and throat, making her quiver, making her breasts feel heated and full. At the glide of his tongue within her mouth, a sigh of surrender whispered from her throat.

He thrust deeper and sent a shocking surge of fire curling hotl

y inside her. Brynn felt herself weakening, yielding to him. Helplessly she lifted her arms to slide her fingers in his hair. It was soft and satiny and as sensually arousing as his kiss.

She gave him no resistance when he drew her to him. Her senses burned. She was melting against him. He sucked at her tongue until she whimpered a breathy sound of capitulation. Then he eased back on the couch, pulling her with him.

Desire, wild and irrational, lanced through her trembling body as she found herself draped over him. She could feel him beneath her, the warmth of lithe muscles, the supple play of hard masculine flesh. An intense yearning flooded her, as if she were the one caught in the Gypsy’s spell…

She gave a strangled moan against his tender mouth. This was wrong. Her hand came up between them, pressing against his chest. She should not, could not let this happen. Yet it was all she could do to push him away.

Summoning all her strength, Brynn sat up with a jerky motion. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her head swimming, yet Wycliff didn’t appear to be nearly as affected as she was.

He straightened, watching her intently. Then he reached up with one finger and brushed her lips, still damp and tender from his mouth.

“Whether or not the curse is real,” he said, his voice low, husky, “I would still very much like to have you in my bed.”

Dazed, Brynn stared at him. When she remained mute, his mouth curled in that slow half smile that had the power to capture female hearts.

She blinked, trying to shake off the force of his spell. Regaining her senses finally, Brynn leapt up from the couch, her book tumbling from her lap.

For a span of several heartbeats, she remained there, staring at him. Then, wordlessly, she turned and fled.

As Lucian watched her bolt for the second time in their brief acquaintance, he felt a strange mix of emotions-puzzlement, desire, exhilaration…

Desire was perhaps the strongest. It would be a consummate lie to say he was unaffected by their heated embrace, as he’d pretended. His carnal urgency was every bit as fierce as the last time he’d kissed her. More so now, since this time he knew what exquisite delights lay beneath her modest gown.

Lucian frowned. He put no stock in Miss Caldwell’s claim of being cursed, yet something had caused his intense attraction to her. Despite his pretense of control, it had taken all his willpower to restrain his raging lusts. Even now his body was reverberating with the craving he’d felt. His erection was stiff within his satin breeches, pulsing with his still rapid heartbeat.

Yet what he felt for her went deeper than mere lust or physical arousal. Enchantment was the word that came to mind. He was utterly spellbound. She was a flame-haired, emerald-eyed enchantress, the kind of woman to haunt a man’s dreams…

His lip curling wryly, Lucian shook his head at his poetic flights of fancy. He was indisputably fond of women in general, yet it was unlike him to become enraptured of any one female, even such a beauty as Miss Brynn Caldwell. He’d been intrigued and challenged by her elusiveness, true, but that didn’t explain his violent feelings of possessiveness.

He wanted her-badly. And he intended to have her, Lucian reflected with exhilaration.