Sammy averted her eyes. "I'd heard he's endured recent business losses."
Rem shrugged. "Idle gossip, most likely. You know how rumors pass from one wagging tongue to the next."
"You sound just like Smitty," Sammy muttered, half to herself. "He mollified me with almost those exact words."
So she'd been questioning Smithers about Goddfrey, Rem thought. Interesting. And evidently, Allonshire's trusted valet had told her nothing.
Did he know more?
The silence in the carriage stretched, as Rem cautiously chose his next approach.
"Remington?" Sammy lay a gloved hand over his.
"What?" Perhaps Samantha herself would provide him with the appropriate avenue.
"Before we arrive . . ." She hesitated, chewing worriedly at her lower lip.
"Go on."
"Would you kiss me? Just once?"
Whatever Rem had been expecting, it hadn't been this. "Would I... ?"
"We shan't be alone all evening," she rushed on. "And I've never experienced sensations like the ones I feel when I'm in your arms. It's as if tiny bubbles are bursting inside my chest, growing larger, popping faster, while at the same time my stomach is sliding down a long hill to my feet. My head swims until I'm so dizzy, I can't think." Tentatively, Sammy stroked the fine material of Rem's sleeve. "The feelings are truly miraculous. At least for me. I simply hoped—"
That did it.
With a muffled curse, Rem veered the phaeton sharply to the roadside and brought it to an abrupt halt. Before Samantha could regain her balance, he took it away again, dragging her into his arms with shaking hands.
"It's no use. Dammit, it's no use," he growled, burying his lips in hers. With the reckless intensity of a summer storm, he gave reign to the fierce emotions she spawned inside him. His tongue invaded her mouth, stroking hungrily, giving her what she wanted, taking for himself what he craved.
For the endless moments they kissed, all else was forgotten. Resolutions were cast to the wind, unanswered questions were gladly relinquished, the past was laid to rest.
And Samantha was his.
"Christ, you intoxicate me," he muttered. "I can't let this happen ... yet I can't keep my hands off you."
"You didn't initiate this, Remington," she whispered back, caressing his smooth-shaven jaw, reveling in the joy of being in his arms once more. "I did."
"That doesn't excuse my lack of control." He circled his lips sensuously against hers, making no move to release her.
"Must we go to the opera?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because if we don't, I'll take you to bed."
"That doesn't frighten me." She kissed his chin.
"It should." Instinctively, his arms tightened about her. "The problem is, you're just too damned innocent to know what it means."
Sammy leaned back—only enough to meet his gaze. "I know that people make love in bed. I know they take off their clothes and join their bodies in some manner that is wonderful for both of them. I know that new lives are created this way."
A warm, tender light flickered in Rem's eyes, kindled in his heart. "You're almost beautiful enough to make me believe again."
"Believe what? What is it you don't believe?" Rem eased away from her. "That, imp, would take hours to discuss. And, as the opera begins in ten minutes—" "Was it a woman?"