Page 46 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
He touched a thumb to the peaked nipple and she gasped, clapping her hand over his.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Coming to my senses.”He set his lips to hers and nibbled.
When she squirmed, he cupped her breast fully.
She jerked away, perspiration sheening her brow, her eyes flashing.
Spirit, and passion, and heat—by God, he must have her.
“Jane,” he said.“We’ll marry.”It was the best solution, the most logical.“Make love with me tonight, and in the morning, I’ll apply for a special license and we’ll wed in the afternoon.”
Heart pounding,she covered her ears.
Had she also been drugged?Shaldon’s words set a fever swirling through her, a madness of touch and scent and carnal desires.His, hers—they were both caught up in the insanity.
One hand fondled her breast, with the other he tugged her against his solid strength.And her backside encountered a firmness that sent heat flaming through her.
“Jane?”
Eyes gleaming in the light of the lamp, he waited for her response.
This man was not Shaldon, the managing patriarch, Shaldon, the unemotional spy lord.
She wrestled the hot yearning between her legs.
When this was all over, she would take a lover.Tonight, one of them must be sensible.
“Are you…are you drunk, Shaldon?Has someone fed you another drop of the poppy?”
His low chuckle sent a shiver through her and he whispered a firm, “No.”
He leaned in, crushing her breasts to his chest.“I am completely sober,” he said.
His lips moved over hers, exploring, nibbling, pressing.He tasted of mint, not brandy, so perhaps he was telling the truth.
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe while he kissed a path along her jaw, his cheek sliding smoothly against hers, his cologne filling her senses.
When he slanted his mouth over hers, her lips parted for him, heart pounding in a welcoming crush, her body beyond her control.
“Jane,” he whispered, and moved back to kissing her cheek, her jaw, her neck, while her pulse raced and she grasped for a thread of reason.
She put a hand to his cheek and realized—he’d shaved for this encounter.He’d planned this seduction.
Nosy, managing, infuriating man.
He kissed her again, tongues tangling.His hand, so large and masculine, stroked down to her backside.
Flailing against his embrace, she tried to stand.He pulled her closer.
“Sh-shaldon.”She sucked in a breath.“Come to your senses.I’m a thief, Shaldon.”
“I don’t care,” he mumbled against her neck.
“And a scandal.I bore—”
“A child.”
