Page 45 of Royal Charmer
“It’s most improper,” I breathe.
I can hear the smile in his voice. “We’re in a private spot.”
The words tumble from my lips in a heated breathy rush. “Ravish me.”
“What?”
I clear my throat delicately. “I said massage me.”
He does, working along my shoulders and then to the back of my neck. It is decadent. I nearly melt against him in the near orgasmic pleasure of it. He finishes, trailing his hand down my spine in a light tingling path that ends just short of my ass. My breath shudders out.
He squeezes the nape of my neck and whispers directly in my ear, “How’s that?”
I’m relaxed and vibrating with tension at the same time. I whirl to face him. “Do you remember when the duke found Lady Amelia on the back balcony?” It’sThe Duke’s Dare, and I want him to be daring.
Heat flares in his eyes. “I do.”
My mouth goes dry. I can hardly believe my own daring. “Maybe we could play that game.”
He gives me his crooked sexy smile. “We haven’t even kissed yet.”
“Yes, we have.”
He slowly shakes his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “That was me resisting you.” He slowly leans down, his hand cupping the back of my neck. “This is a kiss.”
I stop breathing. His lips brush across mine, sending a zing through me. It’s the genteel kiss of a nobleman that makes me long for more. And then he does it again, another gentle brush of his lips before he pulls back, his gaze searching mine.
I stare back in a dreamy daze, my knees wobbly. He glances down at my hand clutching his shirt over his chest. I didn’t even realize I was doing that. I release my hold, smoothing his shirt down, and then I let my hands roam all over his heated chest. I barely resist the urge to rip his shirt open with both hands to see the spectacular chest I’m feeling.
My voice comes out breathy, urgent. “Now we kissed. Ravish me.”
He glances around. “Here?”
The music starts up again, louder this time, along with an announcement in French. I freeze. What am I doing asking Lucas to ravish me here in public at Versailles? I am not the heroine in one of my stories, no matter how much I wish I were sometimes.
He takes my hand, his voice gentle. “Come on, the announcement said the professional dance troupe is here.”
I scrunch my nose. “Could you tell I chickened out?”
His lips curve into that crooked smile that reaches in and squeezes my heart. “Yes.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I huff indignantly. “I proposed something very carnal and now it’s off the table. Isn’t that something a man finds disappointing?”Be disappointed like I am, dammit! Why couldn’t I be as daring as my heroine?
His arm bands around my waist, drawing me close again, his voice lowering to a husky drawl. “Because I know everything I need to know. There’s more to come.”
I shiver with excitement, pushing down every anxious worry in my mind. He wants me, and I want him. That’s the only thing that matters. This moment. There is no tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
Alice
Lucas has asked Thor to follow us in a separate car, which is provided magically by someone on staff at the ball. This is the power of celebrity.
I join Lucas in the back of the limo, note the divider separating the front seat from the backseat is up, and throw myself at him. He’s just as eager, his fingers spearing through my hair, his mouth devouring mine. Sweet Jesus. It’s better than my stories, better than my naughty imagination, and I didn’t think that was possible.
