Her heart racing, tripping in double time, Patience straightened, and went to slide around the fountain, to place it between herself and the wolf she was trapped in the conservatory with. Instead, she ran into an arm.
She blinked at it. One faultless grey sleeve enclosing solid bone well covered with steely muscle, large fist locked over the scrolled rim of the basin, it stated very clearly that she wasn't going anywhere.
Patience whirled-and found her retreat similarly blocked. Swinging farther, she met Vane's gaze; standing on the tiled floor, one step below her, arms braced on the rim, his eyes were nearly level with hers. She studied them, read his intent in the silvered grey, in the hardening lines of his face, the brutally sensual line of those uncompromising lips.
She couldn't believe her eyes.
"Here?" The word, weak though it was, accurately reflected her disbelief.
"Right here. Right now."
Her heart thudded wildly. Prickling awareness raced over her skin. The certainty in his voice, in the deepening tones, riveted her. The thought of what he was suggesting made her mind seize.
She swallowed, and moistened her lips, not daring to take her eyes from his. "But… someone might come in."
His gaze dropped from hers, his lids veiling his eyes. "I locked the door."
"You did?" Wildly, Patience glanced back toward the door; a tug at her bodice hauled her back, refocused her scattered wits. On the top button of her bodice, now undone. She stared at the gold-and-tortoiseshell whorl. "I thought they were just for show."
"So did I." Vane popped the second of the big buttons free. His fingers moved to the third and final button, below her breasts. "I must remember to commend Celestine on her farsighted design."
The final button slid free-his long fingers slid beneath the silk. Patience sucked in a desperate breath; he had very quick fingers-with locks, and other things. On the thought, she felt the ribbons of her chemise give; the fine silk slid down.
His hand, hot and hard, closed over her breast.
Patience gasped. She swayed-and grabbed his shoulders to keep herself upright. The next second, his lips were on hers; they shifted, then settled, hard and demanding. For one instant, she stood firm, savoring the heady taste of his desire-his need of her-then she yielded, opening to him, inviting him in, brazenly delighting in his conquest.
The kiss deepened, not by degrees, but in leaps and bounds, in a blind, breathless downhill rush, a giddy pursuit of sensual delights, carnal pleasures.
Parched for air, Patience drew back on a gasp. Head back, she breathed deeply. Her breasts rose dramatically; Vane bent his head to pay homage.
She felt his hand at her waist, burning through her thin gown as he held her steady before him; she felt his lips, hot as brands, tease and tug at her nipples. Then he took the engorged flesh into the wet heat of his mouth. She tensed. He suckled-her strangled cry shivered in the moonlight.
"Ah." His eyes glinted wickedly as he lifted his head and transferred his attention to her other breast. "You'll have to remember. This time, no screaming."
No screaming? Patience clung to him, clung desperately to her wits as he feasted. His mouth, his touch, drew and fragmented her attention, stoked and fed the desire already flaring hotly within her.
But it was impossible-it had to be.
There was the bench-but it was cold and narrow and surely too hard. Then she remembered how he'd once lifted her and loved her.
"My dress-it'll crush horribly. Everyone will guess."
His only response was to tuck the sides of her bodice back, completely baring her breasts.
Through her next gasp, Patience managed, "I meant my skirts. We'll never be able to…"
The rumbling chuckle that rolled through him left her shuddering.
"Not a single crease." His lips brushed the crests of her breasts, now tight and aching; his teeth grazed the furled tips, and daggers pierced her flesh. "Trust me."
His voice was deep, dark, heavy with passion. He lifted his head. His hands closed about her waist. Deliberately, he drew her to him, so her tingling breasts pressed against his coat. She gasped, and he bent his head and kissed her, kissed her until she had softened through and through, until her weakening limbs could barely support her.
"Whe
re there's a will there's a way." He breathed the words against her lips. "And I will have you."
For one fractured instant, their gazes met-no pretense, no amount of guile could conceal the emotions driving them. Simple, uncomplicated. Urgent.