Her heart expanded in her chest; it seemed to slow, then start to thud.
A need to explore his desire swept her. The killer had stolen from her any chance of that with Thomas, yet because of the same killer, Gerrard was now here.
That need took root, grew and filled her. Slowly, she closed her fingers, grasped the gown she’d been holding, and lifted it from her, and away. Extending her arm, she opened her hand and let the gown fall unregarded to the floor; his gaze didn’t shift, didn’t move from her to follow the silk as it fell.
His gaze, dark and burning, remained locked on her. At his sides, his hands slowly clenched; his jaw set, rocklike; his lips were a chiseled line.
He wasn’t going to move, to, as she had no doubt he would see it, take advantage of her; he was holding against it, against the impulse she could see flaring in his eyes.
She tilted her head, studying him as brazenly as he did her. She felt his gaze rake slowly down her body, outlined by the glow of the fire behind her. Her flesh reacted, heated, prickled-as physical a reaction as if he’d touched her. More reaction than if any other man had touched her, yet it was only his gaze, and the hunger she sensed behind it.
The clock ticked; for finite instants, desire held them, a force strong enough for them both to feel. To appreciate. She took a moment to savor it, to experience it, but that was all she dared-he was strong enough to break free, if she let him.
She was still holding the candlestick; other than the small fire, it was the sole source of light remaining in the room. To set it down, she would have to turn, to take her eyes from him, and break the spell.
No. The spell was hers, patently there, hers to use if she chose.
She chose.
Slowly, she extended her other hand, palm up-an unmistakable invitation.
For one heartbeat, as his gaze fixed on her palm, she wondered if he would decline. But then his eyes lifted and locked on hers, and the silly thought slipped away.
He moved to her, slowly, like the predator she’d sensed from the first he truly was. The ton’s artistic lion in truth, and he was here with her, in her bedchamber, and it was almost midnight.
He closed his hand about hers, engulfing her fingers with the heat and strength of his; as he stepped nearer, he raised her hand to his lips, and brushed a slow kiss over her knuckles.
His eyes, dark in the poor light, hadn’t left hers. He searched them briefly, then turned her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the sensitive skin of her palm.
She felt it like a brand, hot, searing, possessive. She couldn’t breathe as he took the tilting candlestick from her other hand; reaching past her, he set it on the mantelpiece behind her.
He stepped nearer, releasing her hand to fall on his shoulder, gathering her to him. She was excruciatingly aware of the strength in his muscled arms, of his hand as it spread across the back of her waist, of the insubstantial protection of her nightgown and robe.
Their eyes met, in one glance said all there was to say, then he bent his head as she lifted hers, and their lips met.
Touched, brushed. Fused.
The kiss slid straight into a sea of heat, of pleasured warmth as their lips melded and their tongues twined. She knew this, wanted it, and went forward without reservation, receiving each slow, languorous caress, returning it with abandon and inciting more, inviting even though she had little idea of what, precisely, came next. She wanted to know, wanted to feel; as the kiss deepened, as he angled his head and heat burgeoned, flared and raced through her, spreading under her skin, making her mentally reel until her wits slid away and she gave herself over to feeling, simply feeling, as desire flooded her and grew to a pounding beat, she burned to learn more.
Gerrard sensed the rising tide, the welling of desire, and behind that, a passion that was more-more powerful, more compelling, more enthralling-than any he’d felt before. Her mouth was a haven of feminine delight, soft, giving, beyond tempting; the feel of her body so scantily clad in his arms, leaning into him, sinking against him in naïve surrender, was a potent lure.
With an effort, he lifted his head, broke the kiss enough to look into her face, into her eyes as her lids slowly rose. Enough to realize how rapidly he was breathing, how much his head was spinning…already.
Hauling in a breath, he said, “This is dangerous.”
And was shocked by how gravelly and harsh his voice sounded.
She didn’t blink, but studied his face. He felt her breasts expand against his chest as she drew a steadying breath.
“No.” Her gaze remained level, her lips soft, sheening, slightly swollen. “This is right.” After a moment, she added, “Can’t you feel it?”
He could. Every instinct he possessed was urging him on; not one suggested retreat. If she was willing to move forward, so was he.
She’d been searching his eyes; her lips slowly curved. Her gold-green eyes glowed. “You know it.” Sliding her hands up from where they’d rested until then, passive against his chest, she slid her palms along his face, framing it, then stretched upward and breathed against his lips, “Stop denying it. And me.” Then she kissed him.
He let her, let her coax, then more blatantly invite.
Then he accepted. Stopped denying what he wanted, what he felt compelled to explore. Her. And their passion.
In every imaginable way.
His arms tightened, urging her closer. She responded, pressing her body to his, her hands sliding back through his hair, then away as she locked her arms about his neck and clung. In his mind, he smiled, purely predatory, then eased his hold on her and let his hands roam.
Heard her breathing hitch as he closed his hands over her gorgeous breasts, full and firm, and kneaded. Sensed the surge of unadulterated desire that rose within her as he played, as he teased her senses awake, as he opened her eyes to sensual pleasure.
Their lips melded, a connection, a communication she clung to; his attention switched from her swollen breasts, from the ruched nipples pressing into his palms, to the succulent delight of her mouth, of her lips and her increasingly educated tongue.
She delighted him, simply and sincerely engaged with him; as he eased his hands from the now tight mounds of her breasts, he gave thanks for her directness, for her straightforward honesty, even in this.
Her clear and unequivocal encouragement wasn’t in doubt; she pressed kiss after increasingly scorching kiss on his lips, pressed close and ever closer, sliding her body, all lush curves and supple grace, against his.
He sent his hands sliding, palms beneath her robe, over the fine fabric of her nightgown, so thin it provided a mere whisper of separation between his skin and hers. He traced the indentation of her waist, let his fingers grip her hips, then ease as he explored, then he gave in to temptation and slid both hands down to cup her bottom. Lifting her against him, into him, he flagrantly molded her hips to him, to the rigid column of his erection.
Her breathing fractured, but she didn’t draw back. Instead, she gripped his face again, and pressed ever more heated, ever more eager kisses on him.
He thrust against her, suggestive yet restrained, and was rewarded with a gasp, smothered between their lips.
Thinking was no longer necessary. Juggling her, he stripped off her robe, left it lying on the floor as he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
They broke from the kiss as he laid her down, yet when from beneath heavy lids her eyes met his, he detected no hint of second thoughts, of hesitation. Only a steady, unwavering purpose he was coming to recognize as intrinsically her.
Her arms, twined about his neck, had eased; now she tightened them, and drew him back to her-drew him down to the bed and her. He went with no more hesitation than she. After a long-drawn, incendiary kiss, one that left his mind reeling, he drew back and shrugged out of his coat, sat up and leaned down to ease off his boots. As the second boot thudded on the floor, he turned back to her, into the arms she held waiting. Stretching alongside her, he leaned over her, brushed back her hair and framed her face with one hand, found her lips with his, and filled her mouth.