Page 39 of Garden of Lies

His mouth closed over hers and everything she thought she knew of passion went out the window.

Matty’s words of warning floated through her mind.“They say he practices exotic sexual rites upon unsuspecting females.”

Evidently not all of the legends about Slater Roxton were false.

FIFTEEN

Her mouth was incredibly warm, soft and sensual. It was the stuff of a lonely man’s dreams. He was half afraid that he would awake to discover that he was hallucinating. But her response acted like a catalyst, ripping him out of the remote dimension from where he watched the world. It plunged him into the hot storms of passion.

He heard a harsh, reverberating groan and realized with a sense of shock that it came from somewhere deep inside him. Kissing Ursula was like opening a door in a maze, like walking out of a dark place into the sunlight. He was alive. He was free. Sensations cascaded through him so quickly and so intensely that he could hardly catch his breath. His blood roared in his veins.

He released her face and slid his hands down her elegant, tightly laced rib cage to the gentle curve of her hip. Layers of fabric and the stiff stays of the gown’s bodice kept him from the intimate contact he longed for but he was nevertheless thrilled just to know that he was so close, just to know that he was touching her, holding her at last—thrilled to know that she seemed to want him.

He was afraid of pushing too far, too fast but when she put her hands around his neck he got a little light-headed.

The next thing he knew she was up against a bookcase and he had one booted foot between her legs. The ankle-length skirts and petticoats of her dress rode up over his knee.

He caged her there, his hands planted on either side of her head, and wrenched his mouth away from hers with an effort. She gripped his shoulders as though afraid she might collapse beneath the onslaught. He found the sweet, silken skin of her throat. Her womanly scent aroused his senses and tightened every muscle. He was so hard he ached.

“Slater.” Ursula spoke into his ear, her voice softer and huskier than ever. “I was not expecting this.”

“Is that so?” He raised his head and looked into her sultry, rather dazed eyes. “How odd. I have been waiting for this to happen since the day I met you.”

“I understand.” She was breathless and flustered.

“Do you?”

“You said that during your time on Fever Island you lived a monastic existence and if the gossip is correct you have not formed a romantic liaison with anyone here in London. That is not a normal condition for a man of your obviously virile nature.”

Reality washed over him in an icy wave.

“Let me be sure I comprehend you,” he said evenly. “You think this is happening because I’ve been without a woman for too long?”

She flinched, obviously alarmed, and tried to retreat but she was already up against the barrier of the bookcase.

“It is just that I want you to be certain that your feelings for me are not inspired by your somewhat extended periods of, uh, celibacy.”

He stared at her for a long moment, unable to tell if she was joking.

“You’re forgetting the exotic sexual rituals in the forbidden chamber,” he said finally. “The rites I practice on unsuspecting females.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re teasing me.”

“Am I?”

She made a visible effort to compose herself. “I don’t place any credence in those outlandish stories in the press.”

“Perhaps you should,” he said, making his tone deliberately ominous.

“Nonsense.”

Her stylish little black cap had fallen down over one eye. He took his hands away from the wall, freeing her. Straightening, he angled the cap into its proper position. The process gave him a chance to touch her coppery hair.

She nipped smartly away from the bookcase and turned to face him.

“I am not rebuffing your advances,” she said quickly.

“Thank you for clarifying the matter. So, as a matter of curiosity, how do you act when you actually do rebuff a man’s advances?”

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