“You are forthright, you are honorable in your own maddening way,” she went on. Oh, no man ought to have such beautiful eyes.
She found herself staring, and at that moment, all rational thought seemed to dance away in the breeze. His face was utterly intriguing—a mix of chiseled planes and well-defined features that hinted at hidden secrets.
“And… well, you are quite the most interesting man I have ever met.” Her legs suddenly seemed a little unsteady, so Caro reached out and caught hold of his lapels.
Looking up, she found his mouth was only inches from hers.
“Oh, bosh—I shall probably regret this…” Standing on tiptoes, Caro kissed him. Not a mere feathering of flesh against flesh, but a hard, hungry embrace that she let go on for far, far longer than any proper young lady should dare.
“There, I have no doubt shocked you.”
The tip of his tongue traced along the swell of his lower lip.
“I imagine you think me a wanton hellion, and I sup
pose I am. It must be my eccentric upbringing. I don’t care very much for rules.”
Caro knew she was babbling but she couldn’t seem to stop. “You may consign me to the Devil. But at least I shall dance a merry jig on my way to perdition.”
Was that finally a hint of smile?
She finally dared pause to take a breath. A long, shuddering breath. Now was the time to flee, before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
But Alec suddenly shifted again, blocking her way.
“I, too, shall probably regret this,” he said as he slowly circled his arms around her and pulled her close.
She opened her mouth. To protest?
Before she could make any sense of what she had set in motion, their lips met again, setting off a fierce jolt of fire.
Chapter Eight
Ye gods.
Her mouth was more tantalizingly sweet than Alec had allowed himself to imagine. Soft and yielding—in contrast to the stubborn strength of her words and ideas. Strangely enough, he found both equally alluring.
Equally arousing.
Framing her face with his hands, he slid his fingers up the delicate line of her jaw to tangle in her raven-dark hair. It was like spun silk against his calloused flesh. Beauty and the beast—he was so big, so awkward, so roughhewn, while she was ethereally slender and graceful, like a Celtic faerie.
And yet, her perfect mouth parted willingly, and the taste of her flooded his senses.
Sweet beyond words.
Her tongue flicked against his, and that was the last conscious thought he had before all rational powers escaped on the rasp of a deep groan.
Madness—this was madness.
Alec was dimly aware that a part of his brain was warning of the danger. But the message went unheeded by the rest of his body.
It was reacting on instinct rather than reason.
Another groan rumbled as he deepened his kiss. Need, desire, pure primal lust—emotions he had thought were locked safely away in the darkest recesses of his heart suddenly slithered free. And he was, at that moment, helpless to hold them back.
Caro hitched her body closer, and heat pulsated against his chest and his thighs, bringing him to instant arousal.
It was frightening—no, it was exhilarating—to be so out of control. Pulling one hand free, he traced the line of her spine. She moaned, and bringing her hands up to the slope of his shoulders, she slid them back and forth, the friction of the fabric setting his skin on fire.