Lover Be Mine A Legendary Lovers Novel - By Nicole Jordan Page 0,29
against his and instantly responded to his heat, Sophie reflexively splayed her hands against his chest to hold him off.
“Don’t fear,” he soothed. “I won’t kiss you here.”
Perhaps not, but his nearness was assaulting her nerves with little shocks of sensation, eliciting unmistakable feminine stirrings and cravings inside her. “You will forgive me if I don’t trust you,” she pointed out.
“Sophie, love, you malign me unjustly. Clearly I will have to work harder to win your trust.”
Her heart tumbled at that charming grin. A ridiculous response, considering that he was bent on seducing her.
When he lowered his head and began feathering kisses over her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth, her protest came out in a rasp. “This is how you attempt to win my trust? Not five seconds ago you said you wouldn’t kiss me.”
“This isn’t kissing. This is savoring your taste.”
“The distinction is lost on me, Lord Jack …”
“Hush, darling. Let me enjoy this.”
Sophie fell silent as his lips’ sensual caresses on her face sent melting rivulets of desire flooding inside her. For the space of a dozen heartbeats, she felt herself surrendering … until she heard footsteps out in the corridor beyond the open door. She froze in alarm, while Lord Jack left off his seductive ministrations.
She stood gazing into his dark eyes for a long, breathless moment as the footsteps passed by. When they had finally faded away, she exhaled and insisted in a low whisper, “We cannot be here together. Someone could discover us.”
“It is worth the risk.”
“That is easy for you to say. The risk would not be to you, only to me.”
An unrepentant grin flashed across his lips. “We can close and lock the door.”
His smile was partly sinful and wholly enticing. Did he practice to perfect such devastating charm? Sophie wondered, feeling herself wanting to melt against him again.
“No, we cannot close and lock the door, Lord Jack,” she replied firmly.
Shaking herself, she stepped back and turned away before the temptation of his marvelous mouth could draw her into doing something utterly foolish.
However, she couldn’t stop herself from dreaming of Lord Jack’s wicked kisses later that night, nor could she restrain her eagerness when she stole out of the house shortly before eight o’clock the next morning.
Her excursion was briefly interrupted by another near miss when she spied the head gardener heading toward her on the gravel path. Not wanting to be seen, Sophie quickly slipped behind a topiary yew and waited for him to pass, before making for the rear gate and the lane that led to her secret rendezvous with Lord Jack.
It was a golden morning. A light mist hovered over the fields and meadows, making the June air smell sweet and fresh. Sophie hurried down the country lane flanked by poplars and elms, toward the picturesque stone bridge, and eventually saw Lord Jack waiting for her at the near end, mounted on a bay horse. When she reached him, the smile he offered her was an endearment that penetrated every defense she had.
“I won a wager with myself—you came,” he said approvingly.
“I told you I would.”
“And you keep your promises.”
“Well, yes. But I am a terrible daughter, sneaking out against my parents’ express wishes.”
He laughed as he dismounted. “You are an angelic daughter.”
“Certainly I am angelic compared to you. You are a rebel through and through. I am a conformist at heart.”
“I think there is a secret rebel inside you just longing to be free. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here with me now.”
Sophie gave him no argument. This escapade with him was pure fantasy; indeed, it seemed unreal. But the truth was, she wanted to be wooed by this irresistible, enchanting man. He was the epitome of the boldly passionate rogue. He offered excitement and the promise of passion and forbidden love. What woman could resist that alluring combination?
Leading the bay, Lord Jack took her hand and guided her down the grassy slope to the rushing stream that ran beneath the bridge, where he tethered the horse to a tree branch. Sophie watched as he reached in his saddlebag and drew out a blanket, a small cloth bundle, and a flask of what he said was cider.
“I brought us a treat. I wasn’t inclined to wait until a formal breakfast to sate my hunger.”
He spread the blanket on the grass beside the stream, then settled with her there. To her delight, he opened the cloth to reveal a half dozen buttered crumpets.