Page 18 of From London, With Love
She’d almost thought it had been a trick her mind played, but no, it was real. Alexandra leaned into the embrace with a soft moan, silently begging for more.
Each touch of his hands was gentle, and the soft, lazy trace of his tongue made her yearn for more. Alexandra pushed into the kiss, but he retreated, as if to say, if she wanted more, thenshewould have to be the one who took it.
Soft fingertips traced beguiling circles on her cheeks. It was a whisper of a touch—like nothing she’d ever felt before. It tempted her as nothing else could. She wanted those roughened palms on her skin, on her hips. Stubble grazed her chin, and she wanted to feel it rasping against her sensitive breasts.
“My queen,” he whispered, drawing back for breath, his dark eyes ablaze with need.
She’d never tasted desire like this. “Don’t stop.”
“We have to.”
She captured a fistful of his hair. “I make the rules. And I say no, we don’t.” But right at that moment, some sound began to intrude into her thoughts. She drew back, her brow creasing together. “Is that…?”
A repetitive knock on the door echoed through her chambers.
She swiftly turned away, putting several feet of distance between them. It wouldn’t do to be caught in such a compromising situation, though a swift touch of her cheeks revealed the blazing heat of them. “Come in,” she called, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirts.
The door opened, and one of the maids came in, laboring under the weight of a heavy tray. “My apologies, Your Majesty. You sent for tea?”
She had. In the hopes that she could take tea with Gideon before she broached such a sensitive subject. Goodness. She’d almost forgotten.
“Thank you, Clara,” she said, gesturing to the smaller table by the fireplace. “You may set it down there, please.”
Gideon stared out the window as the housemaid fiddled with the tea setting. She couldn’t read the firm set of his shoulders, but she envied him the ability to hide his face. She was certain hers bore the stain of her recent activities.
The queen cleared her throat. “That will do, thank you, Clara.”
She waited until the maid had curtsied and closed the door behind her, before turning back to Gideon. “Will you not look at me?”
He slowly turned around, clasping his hands in front of him. “It was not you I was trying to avoid.”
“No?”
“No,” he growled, tugging at his necktie. “You’ve left me quite undone.”
A laugh escaped her as she began to gather his meaning.
And what a wonder that was—that she could find amusement in such a state of affairs, when she’d only ever seen a man’s attentions as something to be endured. This situation with Gideon was completely confusing.
“Come here,” she whispered. “Kiss me again. And this time, don’t stop.”
“But your tea will grow cold,” he teased.
“Gideon,” she growled.
He laughed and strode toward her. “As you wish, my queen.”
Chapter 6
“Well?” the Duke of Malloryn asked as he and Gemma took tea.
Clara smoothed her skirts as she took her seat, shooting him a chastening look. “I thought I was placed within Her Majesty’s household in order to prevent an assassination?”
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving a hand. Clara Herbert was one of his best spies. A true chameleon with a nondescript face and manners, she could blend into almost any background. He’d recalled her and Herbert from Bath the second the queen was poisoned. “Let’s not pretend that was the only reason.”
“It is possible Her Majesty and Sir Gideon were having an intimate conversation when I entered.”
“A conversation?”
