Lover Be Mine A Legendary Lovers Novel - By Nicole Jordan Page 0,32

Jack, pressing the softness of her breasts into the hard wall of his chest, feeling the solid play of muscle beneath her body.

His tongue slid inside her mouth to meet hers then, and he drew her against him, until the hard blade of his arousal prodded her loins through her skirts. She was not sexually experienced, but she had garnered enough knowledge from Martha to know what to expect from carnal relations.

Lord Jack was highly stimulated, she could tell.

As was she.

When his hand slipped beneath her cloak and molded to the curve of her breast, Sophie gave a soft moan at the shocking trail of fire he ignited deep down inside her.

That helpless sound set warning bells ringing in her head. She was enjoying him far, far too much. She had to go, for if she continued on this way, she would never leave.

Regretfully breaking off their kiss, Sophie opened her eyes. His had gone fire-dark as he stared back at her. He was thinking wicked thoughts, she knew he was. She bit her lip at the brazen images forming in her own mind.

Without breaking eye contact, he laced his fingers in hers and brought her palm to his lips. The tender gesture was perfectly simple but somehow even more erotic than anything he’d done before. Sophie felt her body go liquid and weak as the blaze of wanting flamed higher.

Fighting the sensation, she inhaled a ragged breath. Summoning her fragile willpower, she edged away from Lord Jack, then pushed shakily to her feet. “I cannot stay any longer,” she murmured in explanation, absently brushing a wayward curl back from her flushed face.

Surprisingly he didn’t object as he also rose. “I know. But there is hope for you yet.”

“Hope?”

The smile he sent her was amused but tender. “We made good progress today with your insurrection. Give me enough time and I will turn you into a full-fledged rebel.”

Sophie opened her mouth to refute him but knew he was right. He was effortlessly weaving his spell about her; she could feel his enchantment drawing her closer. And given enough time, she feared he would succeed.

She watched mutely as Lord Jack folded the blanket and carried it and the cloth and flask to his saddlebag, then mounted his horse.

He urged the bay up the bank before glancing back down at her. “Forgive me but I won’t be joining your guests for breakfast. My body needs to cool off first.”

With a wicked smile, Lord Jack nudged his horse into a canter across the bridge and was gone.

Sophie stood staring after him, listening to the clattering hoofbeats fade away. Oh, yes indeed, Lord Jack Wilde was different from any other suitor she’d ever known. He stirred needs and desires that she hadn’t even realized existed. He filled her with a sweet, aching longing and made her feel alive, thrillingly so. Her body was still tingling from the contact with his hard, virile one.

Exhaling slowly, Sophie climbed the bank and reluctantly turned toward the house.

In the battle of her conflicting emotions, desire was winning, she knew. Yet she was not willing to end their forbidden liaison just yet. At the end of the week, she would have to set aside her foolish longings, but for a few days more, she could pretend their growing intimacy was real and not some feverish, self-indulgent fantasy.

For a few days more she could let herself dream.

Upon returning to the Hall in time to greet the early risers, Sophie devoted her attention to the guests, particularly the Duke of Dunmore. Hosting such high-ranking nobility would be a challenge since the Fortins had never moved in his gilded circles. Indeed, Sophie ordinarily would not even have made his acquaintance. But at the beginning of the Season, Dunmore had spied her at a musical evening and requested an introduction.

She had previously attended several other large country house parties, however, and observed the glittering aristocracy at play, although Mrs. Pennant’s gathering would boast less grandeur. For diversions, Sophie had planned an assortment of lawn games and alfresco picnics, theatrical readings, and tours of the local sights, but only one assembly with the neighboring gentry and no formal balls.

That first afternoon, the company visited the ruins of an ancient abbey, while the evening was devoted to enacting parts of Shakespeare’s comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Great hilarity ensued from the actors’ efforts, both good and bad. Lady Skye proved so excellent at dramatic readings, she seemed a born thespian. And Lord Jack was a