the alcove behind the ladder, his fingers fisted in her hair, pulling her head back, and running his lips down the column of her throat. “God, Sarah. How I’ve missed you. Your smell, your taste.” He moaned, claiming her mouth again, his lips branding her.
Her hands knotted in his hair, drinking in the taste of him, nibbling his lower lip, until she finally retreated, gasping for breath. “Come to my room. Now.”
“So much for taking it slow,” he said with a wicked grin.
“You said I could determine the pace, right?” She ran her hands down his neck, inside the collar of his shirt.
“Yes.” He shivered when her fingers touched his bare skin.
“Well, I’ve decided to pick up the pace a bit.” She unbuttoned one button then another, pressing kisses onto his exposed skin with each button she popped open.
“A bit?” he asked skeptically. “The velocity at which you’re moving now is making me dizzy.”
“I hope that’s not the only thing making you dizzy.”
“Sarah.” He drew in a ragged breath. “What about the others . . ?”
“It’s early. They’ll be at the table for several more hours,” she murmured between kisses. “Send in a few more bottles of wine. That should take care of it.” She had reached his navel.
“Dear God, Sarah. If you don’t cease this instant, there won’t be time to get to your room.” His hands were on her shoulders as he gently pushed her away. “I’ll be up in about fifteen minutes.” He re-buttoned his shirt as he spoke. “I’ll need that time to compose myself. I certainly can’t be seen in this condition,” his added, his meaning obvious.
“My room is on the left, at the end of the hall.” Breathless, she kissed his chest once more before he could finish buttoning his shirt.
Sarah hadn’t planned on seducing anyone during her stay in England, so she didn’t have any lacy lingerie to slip into. Remembering Oxford, she put on the same robe she wore that night . . . and nothing else. Hopefully he would remember, too, since the robe itself was about as enticing as a flannel nightgown.
She was anxious. Why did it seem longer than the promised fifteen minutes? Had he changed his mind? Decided that her sudden unpredictability was more than he’d bargained for?
There was a knock on her door so soft she thought she’d imagined it. She hurried over and opened it. He stood there looking so . . . delectable. She grabbed the front of his shirt, and tugged him through the door.
His eyes opened wide in surprise. Then his hands found her face, pulling her lips up to meet his, molding her body to the length of his, as he leaned against the now-closed door.
His slid his hands down to her waist, untying the sash, slipping his hands inside her robe. His breath left him in a soft hiss when he encountered the bare skin underneath.
He smiled against her lips. “I have rather fond memories of this robe.” So alluring in a simple white cotton robe. He swallowed hard when he imagined her in a lacy bit of nothing. He’d have to see what he could do to fulfill that little fantasy later.
She sighed when his hands found the bare skin at her waist. He pressed her hips to his, kissing her along her collarbone to her shoulder. She wanted to remove his shirt, but her arms were useless, like they’d melted into nothingness. She reveled in his touch, his kisses, his warmth, his desire. The robe glided to the floor, pooling at her feet.
“Oh God,” he breathed as his scorching eyes blazed a trail along her skin. “You are so beautiful. Sweet Sarah, my love.” He picked her up, carrying her to bed, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“You know, I see a lot of myself in Christen . . . well, apart from the fencing skills.” He chuckled.
Lying in bed, bodies intertwined, they listened to the great house settle as the occupants drifted to their rooms. Alex reclined on one elbow, playing with a lock of her hair, brushing it along her collarbone.
“That’s not surprising.”
“The part about the fencing?”
“No, the part about seeing a lot of yourself in Christen . . . at least physically.” She hesitated before making her confession. “After all,” she said, smiling sheepishly, “you were my muse. Although mere words failed to adequately capture your devastating good looks and irresistible sex appeal.”
He pulled back, surprised. “Really? Huh.” He ignored her effusive compliments.
“You’re not upset?”
“Why should