Page 64 of In the Prince's Bed
The explosion of heat took her off guard, wringing a hoarse cry from her lips. As the burst of flames devoured her, then slowly died to smoldering embers, she melted into the nest of costumes. Her eyes closed in rapt contentment as she held on to the last bit of wanton warmth.
A mock battle still raged inside the amphitheatre, but out here, a comfortable peace stole over her. “What…what did you…do to me?” she whispered.
“Pleasured you, that’s all.”
If the woman resists, pleasure her well to bring her willingly to your bed.
Wincing, she cursedThe Rake’s Rhetorickfor poisoning her enjoyment. She opened her eyes to search Alec’s face. His expression was strained, his jaw taut as he hovered over her.
“And is that all…you intend to do to me?” she couldn’t help asking.
Deliberately, he drew his hand from between her thighs and tugged her skirts down. “For now. I don’t deflower innocents.” He bent to kiss her breast so tenderly, it made her heart leap. “But once we’re married…”
He left the promise dangling in the air between them, rousing a feverish anticipation. The very idea of the liberties he might take with her as a husband sent heat washing over her, starting at her cheeks, flashing to the breasts he’d caressed so wildly, then moving lower to the still-throbbing place between her legs.
She tamped down her excitement firmly. This was no time to get carried away. These were serious matters they were discussing, no matter how eager her body was to throw caution to the wind.
Sitting up, she tugged her chemise over her breasts. “I still haven’t agreed to marry you. You haven’t really even asked me.”
He sat up, too, looking earnest and infinitely dear. “All right, I’m asking you now. Will you marry me, Katherine?”
Her foolish heart leaped to hear the actual words, but she forced herself to respond rationally. “Why do you want me to?”
That seemed to flummox him, but his gaze steadied on hers. “Because you’re the only woman I can ever imagine marrying.”
She swallowed. He hadn’t spoken of love, but neither had she. Given the choice between Sydney, who said he loved her but acted otherwise, and Alec, who treated her as if he did without saying the words, she might be better off with Alec.
You barely know him,her good sense cautioned.You can’t even be sure of his character.
But all of that faded to nothing when he was with her, when he kissed and fondled her, when he rode up on a Thoroughbred to snatch a piece of pear out of her hand rather than risk hurting her, or halted his seductions because he didn’t deflower innocents.
“Yes,” she whispered before she could regret it. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Good,” was all he said, but he leaned forward to punctuate the word with a long, searing kiss that roused her blood yet again.
When she wrapped her hands about his waist, he groaned and drew back. “We have to stop this.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Listen.”
When she did as he bade, she heard a rising hubbub in the field beyond the outbuilding that signaled the end of the final performance.
“They’ll be trying to get in here any minute,” he said. “You don’t want them to find us together like this, do you?”
Her face flamed, both at the possibility and at the fact that only he had thought of it. “Of course not.”
The sounds in the field increased, and he rose swiftly. “Thank God I latched the front door.” He snagged his shirt and drew it over his head, then held out his hand to help her up. “I’ll take the back way out, while you stay in your chemise. They’ll assume that you took off your costume unassisted, but couldn’t put on your gown without help.”
Feeling useless and bereft, she watched him stride about the room, making sure nothing was amiss and no evidence of their scandalous encounter remained.
“Tonight I’ll speak to your mother,” he went on. “Tomorrow I’ll send the announcement to the papers. I can procure a special license—”
“Alec,” she broke in. “Don’t speak to Mama tonight about our marrying.”
He froze, then faced her warily. “Why not?”
“I’d like to tell Sydney first.”
His eyes glittered dangerously as he strode up to her. “Send him a letter. Better yet, let him read it in the paper. He’s a poet—I’m told they read alot.”
She bit back a smile. “I’ve been half-betrothed to him most of my life. He at least deserves the courtesy of hearing about my engagement in person.”
