Page 94 of The Lyon Returns
Like a man walking the plank, he padded over. As he did, Gwen, lying under the bedcovers, rolled to face him. She levered herself up on one elbow. He could see she watched him, but could not make out her expression.
He eased onto the mattress, atop the bedcovers, his back against the headboard. “Where was I?” he asked, his voice husky to his own ears.
“Sir Phillip took possession of the file,” Gwen answered, somewhat breathlessly, he was gratified to note.
“Yes, right. He read it, found the accusation against me circumstantial, and has declared it a nonissue. I will not be charged.”
“But that is wonderful.” In a flurry of excited movement, Gwen sprang into a kneeling position, dislodging her lacy white cap in the process. She still wore her robe over her night rail.
He nodded, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, his nostrils breathing in the scent of warm, sweetly fragrant woman emanating from her side of the bed. God he wanted to kiss her. More now than he ever had.
“Yes. It would appear I am off the hook. Do not, however, take this to mean our arrangement is at an end,” he heard himself say.
“Of course not,” she murmured. She appeared to fixate on the silk duvet bedcover, and her fingers smoothed over the folded edge again and again. “It would hardly do for your alibi to disappear in the wink on an eye. I expect you might fancy yourself free now to sail away as you see fit, but I must point out you cannot possibly hope to continue your search for answers regarding Mr. Kennedy if you do. Additionally, I believe my presence here might aid you in that endeavor by simplifying matters.”
She was rambling. He could only conclude a degree of anxiousness on her part. But anxious about what?
Then he realized he had no idea what she meant. “How?”
Her incessant smoothing ceased. “How?”
“How would your presence simplify matters?”
“Oh.” She twined and untwined her fingers. “Only that you…I’m not certain,” she finally admitted.
That was new. Something his little bluestocking was not crystal clear on. That made two of them. Very little was clear to Gideon presently, save one thing. “Gwen, there’s nothing about your presence in my life that simplifies matters for me other than providing me with an alibi.”
“I see.”
“That didn’t come out right,” he ground out.
She regarded him, unsmiling. “No? What did you mean to say,Gideon? Speak plainly.”
Her quiet dignity tore through his mediocre defenses like a hot knife through butter. “All day I’ve thought about you, about being with you this morning, and very little else. I had thought—hoped—once we…” He swallowed and fisted his hand in the silk bedcovers to keep from reaching for her. “I don’t want to want you like I do, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I don’t want to beg for your favors, but I find myself precariously close to doing just that. I want your hands on me, your body under mine, my body inside yours. I—”
“Shh, Gideon.” Sometime during his inelegant confession, she’d kneed her way across the invisible divide separating them. Now she placed her fingers over his mouth.
“You do not have to beg, Gideon. I very much want you to make love to me.” She smiled a slow, siren’s smile and he nearly whimpered against her silken touch. “In truth, I am looking forward to comparing venues.”
He blinked, as her final words penetrated, then laughed aloud, as exhilaration and amusement and arousal mingled inside him. The sound of her own tinkling laughter danced over his flesh like feathers spilling from a pillow on a summer breeze.This woman.
His amusement faded as abruptly as it came, overtaken by hunger. He reached for her, wrapping one arm around her slim waist to pull her across his lap.
With no hesitation, she twined her arms around his neck. She felt good. So good. Soft and warm andhis.
He scooped one hand, fingers shaking, by God, around her nape, lowered his head, and kissed her.
Need exploded within him—to part his robe, lift the fine linen of her night shift and robe out of the way, and take her, now. But he held himself in check. He would make it good for her, by God, blotting out any memory of what had come before him and ruining her for any other man to follow.
He eased down onto his back, never letting her go, and not for one moment breaking the kiss.
Her lips were like sweet berries, soft and plump and ripe for the plunder, and he feasted on their exotic nectar like a starving man at his last meal.
“Touch me, Gwen, Please,” he growled against her mouth, almost whimpering when her cool fingers glided over his chest. She smoothed her hands down his belly, over his hip, between his legs.God’s blood. His hips bucked up and his body convulsed in a near miss.
On second thought. He reached down, capturing one of her wrists, then the other. He levered her hands over her head and flipped their positions.
She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and luminous in the dark chamber making him wish he’d taken the time to turn up the lone lamp. She was so beautiful, with an effortless sensuality that seemed to eke from her very pores.
