A Passion for Him (Georgian 3)

“Tell me you did not travel alone,” he bit out, hating to think of such beauty unattended. She was a treasure to be secured and valued. The thought of her on the journey without a guard, unwittingly in jeopardy, tied him in knots.

“I am protected.” Her eyes glittered in the muted light, and she queried in a whisper, “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” he said hoarsely, his heart thudding with rhythmic violence in his chest.

“The mask . . .” She inhaled audibly. “Most men look especially dashing in evening attire. You—”

“Amelia—”

“—move me always. Whatever you wear, wherever we are.”

His eyes closed as her praise rippled through him. He took an involuntary step toward her, then jerked to a halt. The room was suddenly too small and airless; the need to divest them both of every stitch of cloth was nearly overwhelming. His craving for her grew more ferocious, clawing and biting in its desire to be appeased.

“Are you happy to see me?” she asked in a small voice.

Colin shook his head, his eyes opening because he couldn’t bear not to see her. “It kills me.”

Tenderness swept over her finely wrought features and called to something deep inside him.

“It is the yearning I sense in you that lures me.” She stepped closer, and he lifted a hand to halt her progress before she came too near. “As long as you want me, I will want you in return.”

“I would have ceased wanting you long ago,” he rasped, “if such a thing were possible.”

Her head tilted to the side as she considered him. “You lie.”

Unable to resist, he smiled at that. She was audacious still.

“You enjoy wanting me,” she said, with purely female satisfaction.

“I would enjoy having you more,” he purred.

When her gaze shot to the bed, his cock swelled to full arousal. Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, and a rough, edgy sound rumbled from his chest.

“Come with me,” she entreated, her gaze returning to his. “Meet my family. My sister and her husband can assist you. Whatever plagues you, they can help to resolve.”

Colin’s gut tightened. He should say no . . . He should avoid bringing any danger into her life . . .

But the possibility of having her now . . . No more waiting, no more hiding . . .

It was night, a bed was near, and they were alone. His deepest fantasy made reality.

He stepped toward her. “There is something I must tell you. Something you will find difficult to understand. Do you have time to hear me out?”

She lifted her gloved hand and extended it to him. “As much as you need.”

“What of those who came with you?”

“He is drinking below.” She smiled. “I lied, you see. I pointed out a different patron and said I suspected he was you. So Tim is occupied with watching him, while I inquired discreetly and found you. You have a unique form—so tall and broad. The maids noticed you when you came in.”

“What of your reputation, then? A young woman of obviously fine breeding making inquiries about a bachelor.”

“Once I learned where you were, I described my relief at finding my brother who is wearing dark green.”

Colin glanced down at his blue garments. Dear God, was it true? Could he have her?

She beamed with obvious pride in her cleverness.

“You have gone to a great deal of trouble to find me, Miss Benbridge.”

“Amelia,” she corrected. “And yes I have.”

He smiled. “Turn around, then, and face the door.”

Amelia frowned. “Why?”

“Because I need to approach you, and I am not certain how much of my face can be seen in this light.” When she hesitated, he said, “You pursue me. You want me. I will be yours, in every sense, but in return you must listen to me without question. Does that frighten you?”

She swallowed hard, her irises overtaken by dilated pupils. Then she shook her head.

“It excites you,” he murmured. Hot, potent lust intoxicated him, easing the relentless drive that set him on edge. He had always led the way with her. It was highly arousing to lead the way in their bedsport, as well. “Turn.”

Complying, she faced away from him, and Colin approached with a rapid stride, freed from the fear of untimely recognition. He pressed up against her, breathing in the scent of honeysuckle, placing his palms flat to the panels on either side of her head.

The vein in her throat fluttered with her increasing heartbeat, arresting his attention.

The sound of the bolt sliding home stiffened his frame and drew his gaze away.

How simple the action was, that of locking the door, but it aroused him as nothing ever had. She wanted him to take her, to strip her bare, to fuck her sweet little body until he was spent and conquered.

Though he knew it, he still wanted her to say the words aloud.

“There is no chance that you will depart this room as virginal as you entered it,” he murmured, his tongue stroking over her racing pulse.

In answer, she reached for the chair by the door and pushed back hard against him, creating a gap that allowed her to wedge the spindle back beneath the knob.

“Do you anticipate interruptions?” he asked, with laughter in his voice and heart. “Or do you simply wish to keep the world at bay?”

The thought of Amelia forsaking the world at large to be with him made his chest tight. She had promised to do so as a young girl. Would she recommit to that promise as a woman?

“You assume I wish to lock others out.” Her mouth curved in a woman’s smile. “Perhaps I wish to lock you in.”

Colin threw back his head and laughed at that, his arms banding her torso and squeezing her tightly. “Ah, love. How glad I am that you remain so spirited.”

“The threat of lovemaking is not sufficient to repress me,” she retorted.

No, but his identity might be. The thought was sobering. He inhaled sharply. “Amelia, I must share my face and past with you before we can proceed.”

The tension that gripped her was palpable. “Will it change how I feel about you?”

“Most definitely, yes.”

“Do not reveal anything.”

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Right now, in this moment, I feel as if I could not breathe without you near.” Her voice was low and earnest. “I’ve no desire to be disillusioned. Not after these last years when nothing was vital to me. It seems almost as if I walked through life wearing a veil. Only when I am with you do I see the world in all its many colors.”

Pressing his cheek to hers, he whispered, “You should place greater worth upon your virginity. I cannot take you—”

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his. The sudden rush of sensation was dizzying. Then unbearably arousing. He felt her moving, but was unable to break the contact to discover why. His tongue stroked across her lips, licking the innocently sweet flavor that was innate to her. The taste was addicting, destroying him. He was helpless to resist it. When her bare fingertips wrapped around his wrist and lifted his hand to her breast, he knew there was no fighting her. He could not simply blurt out who he was. The revelation required more tact than that.

“I can see you with my heart,” she said breathlessly, her lips moving against his. “I want to have you while I feel for you as I do at this moment—wild and hot and free. Does that make me reckless and naïve? Do you find me foolish and fast?”

With every word that left her mouth he grew harder and less controlled. Wild. Hot. Free. The combination was a potent allure for a Gypsy male. Amelia had lived outside the boundaries of Society for so long, she found it easier than most to ignore its constrictions. He suspected that contributed to their affinity. At heart, they were both desperate to run laughing through the fields without any restraints.

Colin reached around her and unfastened the jeweled brooch that secured her lace fichu. “Can I cover your eyes?” he

asked in a dark voice. “Would that dampen your ardor?”

She tried to turn her head to meet his gaze, and he stopped her with a kiss. “I would not have the revelation occur during the act. I want nothing to mar our first time together. I have waited too long for it and desired it too deeply to see it ruined.”

Nodding, she held still as he twisted the expensive lace loosely, then tied it around her head in a makeshift blindfold.

“How does that feel?”