Free Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception by Christine Merrill Page B

again. ‘Show me where to go.’
    She slipped out of his arms and took him by the hand to lead him into the fog of the room, through a doorway, towards the glow of a fire. She sat him down on the grey blob before it, which turned out to be some kind of sofa, and he pushed her gently back against the arm of it. ‘Before I kiss you again, I would like to touch you.’ He wondered if it sounded strange to her. But there was so much he still did not know about her. It would not have mattered what she looked like if his intent had been to leave before the dawn. But with this woman? Somehow everything was different.
    He could feel the hesitation as she tried to decipher the request. And then she said, ‘Where?’
    He laughed. ‘Everywhere. But let us begin at the beginning, shall we?’ He reached out a tentative finger to touch her hair.
    Curls, just as Hendricks had said. Although he’d thought he enjoyed long hair on a woman, the texture was interesting. He could feel the carefully styled ringlets at the side, the pins that held them in place, and the way they revealed the smoothness of her neck. He dipped his head close and found the place at its base where scent had been dabbed, inhaling deeply and touching the point with his tongue.
    She gave a little jump of surprise.
    He ran his fingers along the place his lips had touched, finding the tendons, the hollows, feeling movement as she swallowed. It was a lovely, long neck and he wondered if the complexion was pale or a dusky gold.
    Her chin was well shaped, with a firmness that hinted at stubbornness. She’d proven that already, so it was no real surprise. And there was her mouth. He smiled, remembering the taste of it. High cheekbones, a dimple, a raised brow. He smoothed it, feeling the tiny wrinkle of confusion on the forehead and the beat of a pulse in her temple. Her eyes were closed. He brushed them with his thumb, feeling the long lashes lying upon her cheeks. When they were open, he was sure that the look in those eyes would beprobing, discerning, intelligent. But she would look like a child when she slept, gentled and at peace.
    ‘Did you discover what you wished to know?’ He heard another faint twinge of doubt in her voice, as though she feared that she had been found wanting on close inspection.
    ‘You are beautiful. Just as I knew you would be.’
    He could feel the heat in her cheeks, the little puff of exhaled breath, and the way her body relaxed beside his, knowing he approved of her.
    Then he cupped his hand at the back of her neck, and brought her lips to his to take them as they opened to speak. Her tongue touched his eagerly, and she put her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place as though she suspected, at any moment, that he would regain his senses and reject her.
    He took her mouth with deep greedy strokes of his tongue, letting his hands roam lightly over her body, feeling the heat of her through the fabric. Then he found the tie of her robe and reached beneath it, tugging her nightdress upwards until he caught the hem, pulling it until it rested even with her nipples and left her lower body sheathed in nothing but smooth blue silk. He stroked her side through the robe, moving the fabric against her until she gasped with pleasure and fought to free herself from her clothing.
    He laughed, rubbing the rougher cloth of the dress against her nipples, dipping his mouth to the bare undersides of the exposed slopes beneath it, kissingthe peachskin softness of them, licking up to the place where they puckered with excitement.
    Her struggling ceased and she went still, waiting for the moment when he would uncover her. When he did not move, she arched her back and moaned, and he pulled the fabric aside suddenly and feasted upon her, drawing them in turn into his mouth, sucking hard, squeezing them with his hand.
    ‘Adrian.’ Her voice was tortured, desperate. ‘Adrian, finish quickly.’
    ‘I am just beginning, my love.’
    ‘But I fear … I