Reckless - By Anne Stuart Page 0,37

in her eyes, on her full, pale mouth. It was too dark to see the gold flecks of her skin, but that was a small price to pay for getting her on her back beside him.

Which was patently absurd. He had never in his life gone to so much trouble to bed one woman.

"Move closer, Charlotte," he said in a low voice.

She did. In the close quarters of the bed she smelled delicious. Wet grass, and honey, and heated female skin with its own, indescribable scent. Her wild red hair had been doing its best to escape confinement, and tendrils curled around her pale face.

He reached up a hand to push some of it out of her eyes, and she flinched, annoying him. "I'm not about to hurt you," he said dryly. "You do realize that, don't you?"

If she'd said no he might have been irritated enough to let her go. If she didn't know well enough by now that he wouldn't force her, then this was a lost cause.

Fortunately she didn't know how close she came to being released. "Yes," she said in a low voice.

“Yes, what?" he prompted her.

Her eyes met his. The changeable hazel eyes of most redheads—in the dark they looked almost black. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Yes, Lord Rohan?" she ventured.

He laughed. "No. Yes, I know you won't hurt me. Adrian," he added. "We're in bed together—you may as well call me Adrian."

She jerked, startled, as if just realizing that they were, in fact, lying in the same bed. "I think Lord Rohan is more appropriate," she said in that starchy little voice of hers. Which was patently absurd, with her lying beside him in the shadowy room, her eyes wide, her mouth soft.

“Let’s not waste time discussing what is or isn’t appropriate. Appropriate behavior tends to be boring. I much prefer inappropriate goings-on. Lascivious riots. Isn't that what you called this?"

"Not this," she corrected him. "This is coerced proximity and nothing more."

He touched one errant curl, his fingers brushing against her cheek, and this time she didn't flinch as badly. It was like breaking a horse, he thought. Patience, getting her used to his touch, his weight. He was very good with horses—one frightened, virginal spinster should be easy. At least she couldn't kick him in the head and kill him.

Even if part of her might want to. He smiled at the thought, and her eyes narrowed. "What do you find

"You, dear Charlotte." He let his fingers trace the line of her stubborn jaw. Her skin was soft, smooth, creamy smooth, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of her, the touch of her. He was quite unaccustomed to working so hard for anything but a horse. And even more astonishing, he was enjoying it.

He opened his eyes again, looking into hers, and for a moment (heir gazes caught and held, like a physical connection. His fingers carefully cupped her chin, and he felt the tension through her entire body as he moved closer.

"You promised you wouldn't touch me," she whispered.

"I won't touch your body,” he said. 'Tin just going to kiss you. I promise you, it won't hurt. You survived my first kiss—you'll survive another."

In retrospect, that first kiss had been remarkably unsatisfying. She hadn't known what to do, and he'd really concentrate. He wanted to take his time now, see how long it took her to respond.

Because respond she would—he had absolutely no doubt of it. And that would be the first step toward where he needed to be.

It would be too dark for her to see his erection—a good thing. He could feel the faint tremors dancing through her body. If she knew what was going to end up between her legs she'd try to bolt.

He leaned over her, his mouth just above hers. She didn't move, but her eyes were dark with apprehension. "What are you so frightened of?" he whispered against her lips. "It's just a kiss.. ."

She made the mistake of wetting her lips in her nervousness. He couldn't resist, closing the short distance between them, putting his mouth on hers before she realized what he intended.

He'd planned on taking his time, starting soft, but her jaw was clamped shut, her lips tight, and it annoyed him. "Open your mouth," he whispered against her tight lips, "or I'll make you."

Her eyes flew open, staring at him in consternation. It was enough of a surprise to make her mouth unclench, and he slanted