On a Wicked Dawn (Cynster 9)
He opened the door; a gust of warm air, rich with the scent of soil, leaf mold, and rampantly growing greenery washed over them. A veritable jungle lay before them. Amelia entered; as Luc followed and closed the door, a faint ruffling of leaves high above drew her gaze. Slats in the roof were open, letting the breeze waft through.
She looked around, eyes widening at the sheer magnitude of the greenery. Then she realized. "It's summer." She glanced at Luc. "Everything's growing."
He nodded. A hand at her back, he steered her on. "There's little to do at present but harvest the fruits. Later, it'll be cut back, but right now, everything's left to run riot."
Riot indeed; they had to duck and weave to follow the paved path down the center of the shed. The jungle dense-ness extended to the door at the other end. Jettisoning any thought of an interlude in the succession house — there was barely room to stand — Amelia led the way out.
They emerged into a small paved area partially surrounded by low stone walls; shaded by large trees, the spot was distinctly cooler than the shed. Unexpectedly, it afforded a view over the shallow valley before the Chase. She glanced around, orienting herself. The home farm lay beyond the shade trees, with the kennels and then the stables farther back to the right. To the left lay the valley, slumbering in the summer heat.
She walked to the low stone wall beyond which the ground dipped toward the front lawn. Close by the shed, steps descended to a path leading to the front drive. "I thought I knew most of the grounds, but I've never been here, either."
Securing the shed's door, Luc glanced at her, then crossed the flags, halting directly behind her. Over her head, he surveyed the valley, the sight as familiar as his mother's face. "You'll have plenty of time to become acquainted with every facet of the estate."
A quiver of awareness shot through her; she hadn't realized he was so close. She went to turn; he stepped closer, trapping her between him and the thigh-high wall.
She caught her breath, went very still.
Raising his hands, he curved them about her shoulders, bent his head. He might have to dance to her tune; that didn't mean he couldn't lead.
He touched his lips to the point where her shoulder met her throat, and she shivered. Head lifting, tilting, allowing him access, she let herself lean against him, but she was far from relaxed.
Releasing her shoulders, he slid his hands down her arms, then slipped beneath to push his palms across her waist and lock her lightly against him. Paused for a moment to savor her body, supple and curvaceous, pressed to his, then, his jaw to her temple, he murmured, "Why?"
After an instant, she murmured back, "Why what?"
"Why are you, for want of a better word, seducing me?"
She seemed to consider. "Don't you like it?" Her hands came to rest over his at her waist.
"I'm not complaining, but you could do with a few lessons from an expert."
She laughed, interdigitating her fingers with his. "What, then?"
"When you trap your quarry in a room with seduction in mind, it's a good idea to lock the door."
"I'll bear that in mind." There was laughter and something else in her voice. "Anything else?"
"If intending to use any exotic location, it's wise to reconnoiter first."
She sighed. "I'd no idea a succession house could be so crowded." After a moment, she added, "Anyway, it's too hot."
"You still haven't told me why."
Amelia recognized the undertone in his voice, knew she would have to answer. "Because I thought you'd like it." That was at least partly true. "Don't you?"
"Yes. Do you?"
She blinked. "Well of course."
"What do you like best?"
When she didn't immediately reply, he elaborated, "When I touch your breasts, when I suckle them, when I touch you between your thighs—
"When you come inside me." She'd already been warm; she was getting hotter by the minute. "When you're deep inside me and I can hold you there."
A long pause greeted that. "Interesting."
She wasn't going to let the chance slide. "What do you like best?"