Disregarding the blush that warmed her cheeks, Antonia raised a brow back. "Your responses are questions, not an­swers."

Philip's lips twisted. "Imponderable questions, my love. For which the answers lie, all encompassed, in my response to your first criterion."

Antonia felt his strength reach for her, even though his hands remained about her face. His head lowered slightly, his lips hovering tantalisingly above hers. Lifting her gaze from them, she studied his eyes, watched as desire slowly pushed aside the curtain of steel, darkening his gaze. Her "My first criterion?" came on a breathless whisper.

Philip smiled; the gesture did not soften his expression. "I hoped you would know without needing to be told." His eyes held hers; his chest swelled as he drew in a steadying breath. "God—and half the ton— know I love you." He searched her eyes, then added, his voice deepening, "Un­reservedly, without restraint, far more completely, deeply, madly than I suspect is at all wise."

Antonia stared back at him, the words ringing in her ears, in her head, in her heart. Her welling joy showed in her eyes; Philip bent his head and kissed her, the caress direct and deeply intimate.

When he raised his head, she had to fight for breath. "Wise?"

She watched the steel flow back into his eyes, clashing with turbulent desire. He raised one brow slowly, his jaw firming ominously.

"Indeed." His tones were suddenly clipped. "Which brings us to your escapade tonight." His hands fell from Antonia's face, only to slip about her waist.

She blinked. "That was Geoffrey's and Catriona's es­capade, not mine."

Philip's eyes narrowed. "No more Mannering logic— I've heard quite enough for one night."

A log crashed in the grate, sending up a shower of sparks; with a muttered curse, Philip reluctantly released Antonia and bent to resettle the logs. Antonia glided a few steps away, out of his immediate reach. He straightened and set aside the firetongs; his eyes narrowed when he saw where she was. "I was referring to your appropriation of my pha­eton."

Antonia took due note of the glint in his eye. "You did offer to let me drive it." An armchair stood conveniently before the hearth; she drifted around it.

“I offered to let you take the reins in town, on a Maca­damised surface, with me on the box-seat beside you—not on a deserted country lane in the dead of night with the road obscured by shadows!" Philip stalked after her; catch­ing her wide gaze, he transfixed her with a distinctly strait look. "See what I mean about wise?" He made the com­ment through set teeth. "This is what loving you does to me. I used to be calm, collected, the embodiment of gen­tlemanly savoir-faire, unruffled, unflappable—always in control!"

With one shove, he sent the chair sliding from between them. Eyes flaring wide, Antonia took a step back—Philip caught her by the elbows and pulled her hard against him. "This is what loving you does to me."

On the words, he kissed her—parting her lips, possessing her senses, demanding, commanding, letting passion have its say. He felt her sink against him, felt her surrender to the power that held them both, held them fast in its silken web, a web stronger than any man would willingly admit. Drawing back, he spoke against her lips. "Damn it—you could have been killed. I would have gone mad."

"Would you?" The words came on a breathy whisper.

Philip groaned. "Completely." He kissed her again, rev­elling in the feel of her as she pressed against him, soft warm curves fitting snugly against his much harder form, promising all manner of

prospective delights. He felt desire, warm and unrestrained, rise strongly within her. Satisfied, he drew back, unable to resist dropping kisses on her eye­lids and forehead.

"You're lucky the others were here when I caught up with you." His voice had deepened to a raspy growl. "I spent the last two miles thinking about putting you over my knee and ensuring you wouldn't sit any box-seat for at least the next month."

Adrift on a sea of happiness with no horizon in sight, Antonia sighed happily. "You wouldn't."

"Probably not," Philip temporised. "But it was a com­forting thought at the time."

A gentle smile on her lips, Antonia drew his head back to hers and kissed him. "I promise to behave in future. I take leave to remind you this outing wasn't my idea."

"Hmm." Lifting his head, Philip studied her face. "Be that as it may, I plan on using this transgression of yours— your flight into the night—to call an abrupt halt to this peculiar hiatus of ours."

"Oh?"

"Indeed." His lips curved. "I've something of a repu­tation for extracting the greatest benefit from unexpected situations."

Antonia looked her question.

Philip wondered if she knew how innocent she looked. His smile twisted then fled; gently taking her face between his hands, he gazed deeply into her gold-green eyes. "I need you, my love. Despite the fact you'll turn me—my life, my emotions—upside down, I want no other." He smiled faintly. "You imagined yourself as my comfortable wife—that was impossible from the outset and I knew it." His lips twisted wryly. "It simply took me a while to ac­knowledge the inevitable."

His expression sobering, he held her gaze steadily. He spoke slowly, intently, his voice deep and low. "But all that's behind us—our future together starts here, now. We're already married in our hearts—married in all ways bar two. I propose we rectify that situation forthwith. We'll spend the night here—" Philip's hands shook slightly; he willed them still, unaware his gaze had darkened dramati­cally. The planes of his face hardened as he searched An­tonia's eyes. "Don't ask me to let you go tonight. I've waited for weeks to make you mine."

He was confounded by her smile, a bewitching, beguil­ing, very gentle siren's smile. "I've been waiting—" An­tonia declared, her voice soft, serene, her eyes meeting his directly. "I think for years—for you to do just that."

Desire bucked; Philip dragged in a shuddering breath. Very conscious of his limitations, he directed a warning glance at her. "If you could refrain from doing anything too encouraging, I'd be grateful."

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Regencies Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net