“And you say I’m impossible,” he muttered. “Can you be more infuriating?”
She stopped brushing. “What on earth have I done now?”
“Try a bit of honesty. You might find it refreshing. I certainly would.”
“Are you saying I’m dishonest?”
“The only time you are not dishonest is when you are drunk or lustful. You think politeness is a virtue, but mostly it’s annoying.”
“Then it’s jolly good you feel comfortable saying what you think.”
“Try it.”
She dropped the gown and leaped toward him. “Fine! Yes! I want to know about your first wife. Why she was so marvelous that the thought of bedding me sends you fleeing like I’m some repulsive monster.” She brandished the clothesbrush at him. “And don’t you dare call me dishonest for hiding behind politeness when you hide behind busy-ness. It’s a wonder you found time in your schedule to call on me at all.”
She turned away, snatched up the gown, and resumed her assault.
“I am busy,” he snarled, stalking closer. “I am not one of your fine gentlemen who has nothing to do all day. I have multiple businesses to run. It’s who I am, it’s what I enjoy, and I like my life like that.”
“Then go back to it. You know where the door is. Be sure to lock it again so I don’t come ravish you.”
“Oh for mercy’s sake, stop taking it out on your gown.”
He snatched the brush out of her hand. She grabbed for it but he held it out of reach.
“Give me that,” she demanded. “So I can get dressed and get out of this house and away from you!”
“I don’t find you repulsive,” he said.
“Splendid. Then you won’t be averse to catching me when I swoon over your compliments.”
“Bloody hell.” He hurled the brush across the room. “Cassandra—”
“Are you still here? Don’t let me keep you.” She glared at him. “You know that one. It means Go away.”
She spun away from him, a crazed creature in a crazed dance. He must be hearing the same music, for he spun her back toward him, all the way back, into his arms, against his chest. He did not know this dance, but he knew the next step: He caught her head with one hand and sealed his mouth over hers.
Chapter 18
The meeting of their lips brought back the passion of the night before. Joshua was so hungry for Cassandra that one taste would never be enough.
But he forced himself to lift his head.
“Not repulsive,” he said.
“You are impossible.”
“You are perfect.”
Her eyes were dark with fury and something else, and his heart was wild with longing and something else, and he had no words, so he used his wordless mouth to cover hers.
This time, she welcomed him, pushing up into him, her mouth as fierce and demanding as his. He kissed her with the force of all the words he did not have, and she was telling him something too, yelling at him with her kiss, with her tongue. Her hands gripped his waistcoat, twisting and fisting the silk, pulling it tight over his shoulders, drawing him into her softness, and he drew her into his hardness, needing her closer, closer, closer. He could not deny his need. He could not deny her anything.
They broke off, gasped for air, and she tore at his shirt, his shirt that was too long, the hem inching up his thighs and buttocks and hips, and why in blazes did they need so much blasted fabric restricting them all the time? His desperate hands found the bodice of her gown, hauled it down. Eagerly, he freed her breasts, covered them with caresses and kisses, but it wasn’t enough, not enough, dear sweet mercy, it was never enough.
She whimpered and growled and slapped his side. “Joshua, I can’t…I can’t…Give me…”
He jolted away, scared and wild, only to see that she protested not him but her gown, for he’d inadvertently pinned her arms. He yanked it over her elbows and hands, and she freed herself, the gown falling about her waist.
He had hardly a moment to enjoy the sight before she hooked her arms around his neck, her eyes bright, her mouth swollen, her hair wild, her cheeks flushed. She claimed his mouth and pulled at his hair and kneaded his muscles with those competent hands. He hauled her back against him, but—
Too much. Never enough.
He carried her to the bed, climbed on, laid her down, while she held onto him as if she feared she might