Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,73

you a message? Why go there to confront him?”

The silence stretched out between them, growing thick and heavy.

Finally, he spoke, his voice a tender caress in the night. “Because you deserved better of the man you were going to honor by becoming his wife.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Benedict deserved better than the scorn he’d no doubt received for most of his life. “I’m sorry for the unkind words he said to you. About your birth.”

“My skin is thick. I’ve had worse said about me.”

“But you shouldn’t have had. I don’t know if I’ve ever known anyone who cares about the welfare of others as much as you.” In spite of the cold, she removed her gloves and set them beside her on the bench. With her winnings, she could purchase a new pair but would never rid herself of the ones she’d worn tonight. She would put them away in a box so she could more easily hold on to the memory of him taking them off her hands. For the short time it had required for him to do so, no one else had existed in that smoke-filled room that had carried the din of winners’ cheers and losers’ grumbles.

It was the most effective lesson in seduction he’d given her thus far, although she suspected he’d argue he’d not intended it to be a lesson.

Very slowly, she swept aside the fur blanket and fought to keep her balance as she swung inelegantly over to his side of the carriage. Because his outstretched legs had caged her in, she’d had very little choice except to land on his lap, which would have caused a proper lady—sitting on his thigh, so close to his crotch, her feet dangling between his legs—to blush profusely in mortification.

Other than his arm coming around her back to brace her so she didn’t tumble to the floor, she detected no other movement on his part, wasn’t even certain he continued breathing. With her hand, she cupped the left side of his face, so his strong jaw rested against the edge of her palm, the thick stubble coating his chin prickling her skin, sending delicious spikes of pleasure through her. With her thumb, she lightly stroked his full bottom lip. It was soft, smooth, and warm. He was comprised of so many different textures, and she wanted to explore every one of them.

“Earlier, when you were removing my gloves, I was wondering if you took off all of a woman’s clothing so slowly.” Her voice was a hushed, intimate whisper.

“Not always.”

His voice was a rasp that for some reason caused her nipples to pucker and ache. His hot breath wafting over the curve of her thumb made her stomach tighten.

“I know you claimed it was a mistake, but have you thought at all today about the kiss we shared?”

“Not a single second has passed that I haven’t thought of it.”

Heat pooled between her thighs, coursed through her veins.

In spite of the darkness that made them little more than shadowy outlines and silhouettes, she unerringly pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth that always quirked up when he wasn’t quite ready to give her a full grin. “Do you want to kiss me now?”

Some sort of jerky movement occurred behind her back, and when his free hand came up and cradled her cheek, the glove that had been keeping it warm was gone. With his long, thick fingers threaded through her hair, he guided her nearer. “More than I want to draw breath.”

Then he took possession of her mouth as though he intended to own it for all eternity.

The kiss in no way resembled his removal of her gloves. It wasn’t slow, disciplined, or civilized. It was frenzied, accompanied by his guttural groans as he licked the raised bow of her upper lip before journeying into the interior where their tongues clashed with fervor. It wasn’t only a kiss. It was a feast as each lick created a heated sensation that traveled all the way through her. How was it possible that his occupation with a portion of her could cause the rest of her to feel as though little bolts of lightning were dancing over every inch of her skin? Why did each aspect of her coil and twist into a weave that created a tapestry of sensations?

In an attempt to steady herself, she clasped his shoulder with the free hand, dug her fingers into him, resenting the thickness of his coat.