Free Affair by Amanda Quick Page B

raised his head slightly, and stared down at her with an intensity that should have terrified her. The lamplight glittered on the gold frames of his eyeglasses. Fire burned in his amber eyes.
    The eyes of an alchemist, she thought.
    With an abrupt, impatient movement, Baxter jerked off his spectacles and tossed them onto the opposite seat. “Bloody hell. What have you done to me?”
    She shook her head, unable to look away. She realized she was clinging to his shoulders as though afraid she might fall into a bottomless sea if she let go of him. “I was about to ask you the same question.”
    “Bloody hell.” He lowered his mouth to hers once more.
    She felt his hand slip inside the hood of her cloak to cup the nape of her neck. His fingers were strong and warm. The intimacy of the caress sent another wave of excitement through her.
    He shifted his hold on her so that she was draped across his thighs. He cradled her in the curve of one armand bent his head to kiss her throat. He pushed aside the folds of her cloak.
    Charlotte heard her own soft gasp as Baxter’s hand closed over her breast. She could feel the heat of his palm straight through the thin wool of her gown. But she could not bring herself to pull away. A stunning sense of urgency infused her entire body. She tugged at the lapels of his greatcoat.
    “Mr. St. Ives—”
    His hand moved slowly down over the curve of her breast and tightened on her hip. He squeezed carefully.
    “Dear heaven,” she whispered, shaken.
    The solid, heavy length of his manhood pressed against her thigh. She closed her eyes as she sank beneath another wave of sensation. She felt as if she had slipped into a delicious trance. Perhaps this was how it felt to undergo a session of mesmerism.
    She put her hands inside Baxter’s coat, desperate for the feel of him. She was enthralled by what she found. Through the fabric of his linen shirt she could distinguish the sleek, powerful muscles of his chest. The heat and scent of him were intoxicating. She wanted more, so much more.
    He gathered up her tumbled skirts and the flowing folds of the cloak. He lifted them above her knees. Charlotte shivered again when he touched the inside of her thigh. He stroked her bare skin above her neatly tied garter. A shock went through her.
    The carriage slowed to a halt.
    Charlotte froze. Reality returned in a rush.
    “Bloody hell.” Baxter straightened quickly. He leaned across Charlotte and snatched his spectacles off the cushion. Then he moved a carriage curtain aside. “We have arrived at your house. How the devil did we get hereso quickly? I had several things I wished to say to you tonight.”
    “And I had much to discuss with you.” Charlotte struggled to collect herself. She felt awkward and off balance. She also felt flushed and breathless and filled with a strange sense of anticipation. “We did not even begin to discuss the events of the evening.”
    “No, we did not.” He watched her with grim, narrowed eyes as she scooted back to the opposite seat and composed herself. “I shall call upon you tomorrow.”
    His curt manner had the effect of lowering her spirits. The man had just been kissing her with great passion, she thought, and now he was speaking to her as if she had offended him. Then it struck her that he was no doubt deeply shaken by the emotions that had briefly overcome both of them.
    In truth, she was just as disturbed by the tumultuous embrace. But as Baxter’s employer, it was her responsibility to take charge of the situation. Baxter was no doubt castigating himself quite savagely for having succumbed to the more passionate elements of his nature.
    She leaned forward to touch his hand in what she hoped was a reassuring fashion. “Do not concern yourself, sir. You are in no way to blame for what just occurred. That sort of intense emotion is often precipitated by excitement and danger. Our encounter with that dreadful man outside Mrs. Heskett’s house was the cause of