The Lover

He took a step closer. “It seems a pity to waste such a braw evening.” His tone was casual, but all her senses went on full alert. “I think I could truthfully promise you would enjoy my attentions, mistress.” His sudden smile, part wolfish, was wholly enticing.

Sabrina took a step backward, feeling very much the vulnerable lamb. He was far taller than she, broad of shoulder and powerfully muscled, and when he turned the full force of his charm on her, she felt overwhelmed. He was remarkably good at this game of seduction, but that was all it was to him, a game. He knew very well his power over women. Over her. Sabrina felt a mutinous flash of stubbornness course through her. “You’ll not have any effect on me, I promise you.”

“No?”

How did he manage to invest so much sensual promise, such beguiling tenderness, in a single word? In a glance? There was something warm and exciting in his eyes. Dangerous.

Suddenly the night seemed alive with sound and sensation. Sabrina was overwhelmingly conscious of how alone they were, of how hazardous this situation had become. What idiocy was she indulging in, remaining out here with such a man? She lacked the experience needed to bandy words with a celebrated rake. His earlier banter with Lady Chivington had obviously been a sophisticated game between carnal equals, but she was no match for him in that regard.

Evidently she’d taken leave of her senses—or been bewitched by the moonlight and this legendary rogue.

“I should go…” she said rather too breathlessly.

“No…stay.” He reached up to touch her cheek, a featherlight caress.

“This…isn’t wise,” she murmured, startled by the delicate sensation.

“And do you always do what is wise, sweeting?”

“Y-Yes…always…”

“Surely you cannot fear me.”

Sabrina bit her lip. What she feared was the temptation he offered. The timbre of his voice had changed; it was low, muted, as liquid silver as moonlight. She couldn’t stop the warmth that suffused her body at that enchanting voice.

She watched, spellbound, as his sensual lashes lowered lazily to shadow even more sensual eyes. “It would be the work of a moment to kindle your passion, sweet mouse.”

Sabrina felt herself tremble to realize she’d become the target of his seduction. He was close enough for her to share his fluid warmth, to detect his scent, a faint natural fragrance that was disturbingly male. It made her feel disturbingly feminine and fragile.

He moved even closer, his voice a seductive murmur, hot and deep and full of temptation as he said, “Would you like me to make your skin burn, sweeting? Would you like to flame at my touch?”

Her lips parted in a wordless protest, but no sound came out. She couldn’t have spoken had her life been at stake. Nor could she move when, with gentle boldness, his palm cradled her face.

Sabrina closed her eyes, trying to resist the hypnotic stroke of his thumb on her cheekbone. His fingertips fluttered across her skin…downward over her lips, his touch lingering and provocative.

“Look at me, cherie.”

Helplessly she obeyed to find him scrutinizing her.

She had the wild idea he meant to kiss her. His head was bending, his beautiful mouth descending toward hers. With a mixture of desire and excited apprehension, she waited tensely.

When his breath fanned warm against her lips, Sabrina gave a shiver of pleasure. Her own breath seemed suspended, even as it mingled with his.

Then his mouth brushed hers tantalizingly, and the primitive sensations that rippled through her were like nothing she’d ever felt before. The sensual assault of his lips made her feel wanton, helpless, weak.

Her cousin was right, Sabrina thought, dazed. Niall McLaren knew how to draw a woman’s soul from her body.

When he lifted his head, a fierce and unexpected pang of disappointment shook her. She raised trembling fingers to her lips.

Her bewilderment must have shown in her eyes, for his smile held amusement. “Have you never been kissed before, sweet mouse?”

Not like that, she wanted to cry.

His palm cupping her cheek, he lowered his head once more, while his voice dropped to a rough, seductive whisper. “Shall I show you what you have been missing?”

Reason urged her to resist, to make him stop, yet she didn’t want to resist. She wanted to know what it was to feel desired, to be the object of this legendary man’s passionate attention.

Her silence was all the invitation he needed. His lips covered hers, seducing her with heart-stopping tenderness.