Page 52 of A Rogue to Watch Over Me
“Very well, then,” she said softly. “Shall we put your theory to the test?”
Chapter Fifteen
Beneath her dressinggown, Amelia wore a prim cotton nightdress with sleeves down to her wrists, but at that moment, she felt as vulnerable as if she were unclothed. And yet a sense of boldness coursed through her.
She had come to him. Logan had not tried to lure her into his bed. But he wanted her. Just as she wanted him. The truth crashed over her like a storm-tossed wave. This moment was what she’d long hungered for.
Even if the very thought of loving another rogue pinched her breath away. Feeling every beat of her heart in her ears, she gazed up at him. Was she a fool to pursue this moment? Hadn’t she learned a bitter lesson about surrender all those years ago?
But still, she craved his nearness, taking comfort in his strength and his courage. Above all, she had yearned for his kiss and the tender need in his touch.
She looped her arms around his neck, canting her head up, savoring his warmth. His eyes met hers, his gaze intent, seeming to study her. Was he giving her time to change her mind? Couldn’t he see how she desired his kiss? How she wantedhimwith a fervor unlike any hunger she had ever known?
Passion flickered in his dark eyes. His desire stripped away any trace of hesitation.
He splayed his hand against her back, the feel of his long, strong fingers gentle against her, even as he held her tight. A faint smile tugged at his delicious, tempting mouth.
“May I kiss ye?” The question was uttered in a voice edged with gravel.
Amelia drank in this moment. The fire in his gaze. The warmth in his touch. The heady, masculine aroma of shaving soap. Heavens, she didn’t want it to end.
Her teeth grazed her lower lip. “Yes.”
When he lowered his head to claim her lips, she closed her eyes. Drinking in the delicious caress, she savored the taste of him. The feel of him. The possessiveness of his kiss.
In an act that seemed driven by pure instinct, he held her closer, so near the heat of his body seeped through the silk of her dressing gown and the sensible fabric of her nightdress. So near he could not deny the proof of his masculine need, hard and demanding, stirring her own desire to a place where she could no longer reason away her own longings.
As he deepened the kiss, a gruff groan against her mouth betrayed his hunger. Amelia wove her fingers through the silky hair curling at his nape, holding him as fiercely as he held her.
Wanting him.
Needing him.
An unexpected little gasp from the doorway shattered Amelia’s bliss. “Oh, my.” The words hushed, but quite purposeful, may as well have been an explosion.
Logan’s hands fell away as if she had suddenly turned molten hot. Muttering an epithet beneath his breath, he turned to the door.
Amelia followed his gaze. She felt her own eyes go wide. Sudden mortification crashed over her. Mrs. Langford stood inches from the portal with what seemed a rather cheeky smile on her face.
“Goodness, I did not mean to interrupt ye—” The older woman touched a hand to her cheek, as if to emphasize her blush. “Carry on, dears.”
Logan shot her a glare. “Doesn’t anyone sleep in this bloody house?”
Mrs. Langford’s little grin betrayed her amusement. “I was wondering the same thing. I heard ye moving about and thought ye might be in the mood for a bit of warm milk. I’ll be on my way now.”
“Sleep well,” Logan said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
“The two of ye as well.” Was it Amelia’s imagination, or had the silver-haired woman thrown Logan a wink?
“Not bloody likely.” Logan waited for Mrs. Langford to make her way down the corridor before turning to Amelia, his expression one of a man who’d been doused with water from a glacial spring. “Ye’d best be off to bed now, Amelia. With some luck, we might manage a few hours’ rest.”
Amelia reached for him, touching his cheek gently. “If you are concerned for my good name, I’m not.”
“Mrs. Langford would never utter an ill word against ye. She’s quite fond of ye.” His expression softened into a smile. “But the woman’s timing definitely leaves something to be desired.”
“Perhaps it was better timing than we might’ve thought.”
He regarded her silently. The heat in his gaze penetrated her defenses, but he only swept his lips against her cheek, the most gentle of butterfly kisses. “Ye may be right, lass. But at the moment, I am not inclined to agree.”
