The Art of Taming a Rake (Legendary Lovers 4)

“Only you would think a compliment egregious.”

“Coming from you, it is. Your motives are always suspect.”

He sat up and eased closer to her. “I’ll have you know I have been at great pains to earn your trust.”

She shivered, merely from the soothing, cajoling sound of his voice, and tried to ignore him.

Traherne was having none of her dismissal, though. “Look at me, love.”

His touch on her arm sent a small shock of heat plunging through her veins. Against her will, Venetia obeyed. His slow, engaging smile was utterly heart-stopping, taking unfair advantage of her lowered guard. Yet the challenge in his eyes, the dark sparkle in their depths, were even more potent.

She was not sexually experienced, but she had no doubt what she was feeling. Desire. For him. Every time he touched her, she felt a sudden, sharp leap of hunger deep inside her.

And she was woman enough to recognize the heated sparks in his eyes. He wanted her, she was certain of it.

A tremor ran through her. She desperately needed physical distance between them, yet she couldn’t seem to move. Instead she sat there rigidly, holding her breath, afraid even to breathe the same air he did. He was so close, she thought surely he could feel the longing thrumming through her body.

Pressing his advantage, he raised a hand to brush the curve of her jaw with the back of his knuckles. Sensation skittered up and down her nerve-endings. “You’re so soft and warm and lovely, Venetia.”

“No, I am not,” she murmured in protest.

“You are. It is not just empty flattery. Repeat after me, ‘I am very desirable.’?”

“I would feel foolish saying such a thing.”

“Then I will have to keep saying it for you. You are exquisitely desirable, sweet, beautiful Venetia.”

It was supremely gratifying to think he considered her a desirable woman, and yet Traherne’s objective was her surrender, Venetia reminded herself.

Then he bent and pressed a featherlight kiss to the side of her neck. The delicate sensation sent another shiver racing down her spine, but she remained tense.

“You might attempt to cooperate in your seduction,” he murmured, breathing laughter against her bare skin.

“You said you would not seduce me unless I wished it.”

“I collect that time has come. Can you deny it?”

His fingers lightly cupped her chin and turned her face to his. His eyes were mesmerizing, holding her spellbound. With forcible effort, Venetia lowered her glance, but only as far as his mouth.

A mistake, she realized, for she couldn’t help recalling how he’d suckled her breasts with such exquisite tenderness that morning at the inn. How he’d kissed her body and inflamed her to quivering, aching arousal and brought her to a shattering, unforgettable climax…

The disturbing promise of his mouth made tension race through her like fire, and suddenly she was unbearably hot, in part because she knew he was remembering the same things.

Then he smiled again, a lazy, dazzling smile that sent a sweet, treacherous stab of longing straight through her body to her heart.

“Beautiful Venetia,” he murmured in that same husky tone before angling his head to kiss her lightly. His breath feathered against her lips, warm and soft, while his hand stroked down her arm.

The heat from his palm burned through the fabric of her sleeve, but she fought the sensual sparking of her nerves and the desire flaring to full-blown life inside her.

“Traherne…” she warned raggedly.

“Call me Quinn, and I will cease prodding you.”

“You will?” she asked, her tone highly doubtful.

“For the time being.”

“Very well, then, Quinn, pray stop trying to kiss me and leave me be.”