Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

He obeyed her as a thrill of excitement filled him. Finally, a woman who could challenge his senses and one who might leave him panting for more. They hadn’t even kissed and he was burning. He drew her tightly against him, more aroused than he’d been in all the years since his wife’s death. He pressed his lips to hers, pleased when she responded with a soft moan. Her tongue tangled with his in a slow, seductive dance and when he drew back, he half believed her insinuation that he might not be fully prepared for her. Yet his erection pressed against his trousers, proving at least one part of him was up to her challenge.

CHAPTER 4

MEREDITH RUBBED HERSELF against Grayling’s warmth, eager for his touch. His lips skimmed hers softly until she couldn’t bear the slow pace he’d set. She cupped his head and devoured his mouth recklessly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this eager for a lover.

The rip of fabric brought a chill to the skin of her upper back and she smiled against his deliciously sinful mouth. Unfettered passion was more to her taste. She rather enjoyed an impassioned man who took what he wanted, rather than someone who waited for permission.

Grayling’s hand skimmed the newly exposed flesh and made her shudder. To be wanted so well, to have the exact same desire created in herself was not in the realm of her experience. Her lovers paid to be desired. Meredith wouldn’t have to fake any part of her response tonight.

She teased Grayling’s shirt collar from his neck and kissed the corded flesh, surprised to find his skin tanned rather than pale as many Englishmen were beneath their fine clothes. She licked the flesh she’d uncovered and nibbled gently beneath his ear with her teeth. An image of him shirtless, striding in the summer sun toward where she lay beside a brook, filled her with yearning. To make love by day, outside in clean air, with no one grunting nearby as often happened here, had been a fantasy of hers for the longest time. But at her age, she had to admit that candlelight was kinder to the complexion than the brighter light of day.

One day she would do everything she’d denied herself.

One day she would just be.

Grayling caught her hair in his large hand and turned her face back to his. He kissed her—long, searing kisses that tempted her to forget the role she must play. His tongue plundered and took, giving Meredith chills everywhere. There was a rightness to being in his arms that she’d longed for without even knowing what she’d missed. She was safe and warm and tempted beyond reason. Returning to the world she lived would be hard to do on the morrow.

Another tug and her sheer gown split in two. Poor Linnie would be cross about the repair necessary, but Meredith was not unduly alarmed. She’d taken Grayling’s measure the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

The bodice gaped, revealing the fine silk chemise and corset binding her. Grayling caught her hands from about his neck and drew them before his chest. He tugged until her sleeves pooled at her wrists and urged them free of the confining material. His grin as he flung her destroyed garment away was wide.

“Pleased with yourself, my lord?”

He pressed his head to hers, grin growing wider if that were possible. “It was in the way.”

As she stared into his eyes, the urge to laugh and wrap herself tightly about him and never let go grew stronger. Meredith didn’t cling. Not even during intimate relations. It was easier to give her body to her clients if she kept part of herself at a distance. The lovers she met with would leave and some never returned to see her again. It was better to accept that from the beginning. However, with Grayling, she was in danger of forgetting her own rules. She would set herself up for disappointment if she expected more than a quick fling with him.

Chagrinned by her dissatisfaction with that, she lowered her eyes to his wide chest. Grayling chased her gaze, cupping her face and lifting it until she had no choice but to meet his bright green eyes. What she saw stirre

d her fears. Grayling might want more than she was prepared to give—her complete surrender to his lovemaking. Meredith couldn’t give herself over so thoroughly into his hands without losing what was left of herself. She had to keep the upper hand no matter what happened between them.

~ * ~

The moment when desire between them had been completely honest faded. Constantine cursed under his breath at the shuttered, caution-filled eyes staring at him. He wanted her. She wanted him. Everything had been going well between until he’d pushed, until he’d looked deeply into her eyes, searching for the real woman behind the disguise and detecting the doubts and evasions filling them.

He kissed the woman in his arms, aware that Calista’s responses were measured to please him rather than herself. The woman who had flirted with him shamelessly, the one he’d begun kissing with unrestrained passion, had flickered to life briefly and then hidden herself away. He didn’t understand why she would hold back when he only wished their pleasure to be mutual. Even if he paid for her time, he would not leave her used and discarded. It wasn’t in him to be so selfish.

He pulled Calista closer against him and struggled to his feet. Her legs, bare of all but her fine silk stockings, wrapped tightly around his waist as she held on to him so she wouldn’t fall. When he secured his grip on her, he smiled. Her compact form made such maneuvers very easy. He kissed her quickly, afraid she’d beg to be set on her own two feet, and began to twirl slowly about the room as if they were dancing in a crowded ballroom. The room didn’t allow too much spinning, but when he hummed, she joined in too.

He passed the mirror, catching their reflection. Except for his missing cravat, he was still completely dressed. Only the woman in his arms was delectably indecent. The slim legs tightened about his waist; her hands twined in his hair and tugged. He closed his eyes and forgot about everything but the feel of her slim warmth against him.

As the spinning began to unbalance his mind, he backed her into a bedpost and when he was sure she wouldn’t fall, he struggled to free himself from his coat. The broadcloth slipped from his shoulders with Calista’s help; his waistcoat sailed across the room. Calista herself tugged his shirt free of his breeches and pulled it over his head.

He captured her again and eased her back into his arms, but her hands were everywhere, sliding over his chest and shoulders, driving him mad. The cool touch did nothing to dim his ardor. He wasn’t sure what would. He spun slowly around the bed and gently laid her down. Dark eyes brightened to brilliant watchfulness, lips red and full from his kisses parted. Her tongue darted out, coating her lower lip with moisture.

His cock ached, his balls drew up tight.

Constantine deliberately turned his back on the provocative sight to regain some semblance of control as he removed his boots. When he turned back, Calista had drawn her feet up onto the bed, knees bent, chemise teasing her upper thigh. As he stared, she caught the edge of the garment and slowly worked the fabric higher, tempting him with what lay beneath.

Constantine jerked her legs straight, straddled her tempting thighs, and went to work on the front-laced corset. The quicker he had her free and unclothed, the better. Temptation needed to be equal in this bed. The cords proved a little difficult, but he considered that his hands would have performed better were he not so bloody aroused.

When the laces came loose enough, he barked, “Get undressed.”

Constantine rolled off her and stripped himself of his clothes. He had one last rational thought before he climbed back onto the bed. He dug into his inner coat pocket and removed the velvet pouch containing a condom and tossed it beside her head.

In the interim, Calista had done as he’d requested. Her bare skin glowed with health, pert, small breasts jutting up proudly, nipples erect, either from desire or from a chill. He reached out a shaking hand and covered one, pleased at the hiss of pleasure that escaped her lips. Just enough to fill his hand.

She tugged him closer and he happily complied, covering her small body and settling his hips between her spread thighs. The temptation to plunder, to take what he needed, was there in the back of his mind, but when he met Calista’s gaze, he knew there were no shortcuts to take. Not with her. He needed her to want him without reservation again.