He leaned one arm high on the door, making her overwhelmingly conscious of his lean, strong body. “Unfortunately I suspect that’s true.”
She made a frustrated gesture. “You’ve spent your life repairing the damage your parents left behind. Yet you encourage me to kick over the traces.”
“My parents acted without honor.” A smile lengthened his lips. “You’re the most honorable person I know.”
She was too astonished at the compliment to be pleased. She stared at him, mouth open, until she realized she must look half-witted. She snapped her jaw shut. “Thank you.”
He stepped aside to let her pass. She paused in the center of the room. This was very much his territory, furnished in leather and gleaming dark wood. Pen took in the rows of leather-bound books, the shining scientific instruments, and the paintings on the walls. Her eyes focused on the magnificent Titian above the fireplace, the painting Cam had mentioned last night. Venus and Mars. Mars was clearly completely besotted. Lucky Venus, Pen thought sourly.
“You know, I might have been teasing last night, but that painting would look good in my apartments.”
Behind her, the door closed with a finality that made her wonder whether Cam meant to chastise her for breaking some arcane social rule. Life in Italy had been much simpler.
“Bugger the Titian,” he muttered.
She had a chance to turn with a gasp, then Cam grabbed her arms and his mouth crashed into hers.
Shock held her unmoving. When he raised his head, desperation glittered in his eyes. Heat all but steamed off him.
Oh, she was such a fool. His behavior in the carriage suddenly made sense. Relief flooded her. Relief and excitement.
He wasn’t angry. He wanted her.
Beyond reason, by the look of him. The skin of his face stretched taut and his eyes shimmered with sensual purpose.
“Cam, what—” she managed to say before he swung her around and backed her against a bookcase.
“Don’t stop me, Pen. For pity’s sake, don’t stop me.” The hands on her arms clenched and unclenched in an involuntary caress and he breathed gustily as if he’d climbed a mountain instead of walked through his front door.
“I wasn’t—”
“I’ve burned all night.” His voice was raw and low. “You’re lucky I didn’t haul you into the Matlocks’ garden and ravish you under the laburnum.”
She choked on appalled laughter. “You’d have caused a sensation.”
Cam was beyond amusement. “All day I’ve struggled to keep my hands to myself. Then seeing you tonight, glittering like a queen, and knowing that you’re mine; it’s too much for mortal man to resist.”
His desire thrilled her. She’d never seen him like this. He’d wanted her before. Of course he had. Even before church and state had blessed their couplings.
But this was a man losing control.
Hope sparked that at last she pierced his defenses, then crumbled to dust just as quickly. Staring into his feverish green eyes, she recognized that despite his agitation, she encroached no further into his soul than she ever had.
Roughly he twined one arm around her waist and jerked her against his hips. Through her skirts, she felt his hard power. This wasn’t seduction. This was conquest.
Swift arousal weighted her belly, made her hot and needy. Her wriggling incited a guttural groan.
“You’re audacious,” he grated out, kissing a searing path up her neck, nipping at the places that he knew drove her to madness.
“I am,” she admitted breathlessly, hooking her hands over his shoulders and feeling the friction of fine wool under her palms. “Shall we go upstairs?”
“No,” he muttered, his breath in her ear stirring a liquid response. Clumsily he hitched up her skirts.
“Cam, we can’t.”
“Pen,
we must,” he groaned, and this time when he kissed her she responded, sucking his tongue deep into her mouth.