Free Too Great a Temptation by Alexandra Benedict Page A

husband and a brood of children.”
    A dark brow cocked. “What the devil gave you that idea?” Another step forward.
    Mirabelle bumped into the wall—trapped. “Quincy told me about your little chat.” The tears and humiliation welled in her throat once more. “But you’re wrong, you know? I do belong here.”
    There was a thoughtful look in his smoldering blue eyes. “I don’t care whether you marry an ogre or have a dozen squalling brats, but you do not belong here. It isn’t safe.”
    He was towering above her now, and her heart was pounding away like a blacksmith on an anvil.
    “It isn’t safe for my brothers, either,” she said, breathless. “I’m no different from any of them.”
    “The hell you’re not!”
    The man was so close, she couldn’t help but peek at the wide expanse of muscle and the dark tufts of hair that made up his strapping chest. Nor could she ignore the swell of his tight and chiseled pectoral muscles or the nubs of his nipples puckering in the crisp night air.
    Mirabelle squirmed in her spot, a moist heat invading her belly…her loins. The daft desire to press her lips over one of those jutting nipples skipped through her mind, the salacious image sending her heart thumping loud and fierce.
    Blast it! What the devil was the matter with her? Where had such bold passions come from? She had never felt this way before, so enamored, so eager for more. It was gripping and frightening at the same time, the emotions inside her. All sorts of mystifying sentiments swirled in her gut. She couldn’t make any sense of the feelings bombarding her. And the confusion only grew worse…
    Damian traced his thumb along the line of her brow in a slow and sensual caress. “You’re so different, Belle,” he murmured.
    Lost in the zeal of his fiery stare, she flinched at his tender touch. It scorched her skin, the warmth of his finger stroking her brow.
    Breath trapped in her throat as he trailed his thumb softly over the ridge of her nose, making her shiver and her heart throb.
    “So very different,” he said again in a husky drawl, eyes dark and penetrating. There was awe in his voice. She heard it clearly. He looked for answers in the way that he touched her. Answers to one imperative query: why was she so different?
    She sensed he did not mean her sex alone. It was much more than that that baffled him, though she wasn’t quite sure what it was. Perhaps if she could get her thoughts to string together in one coherent line, she might be able to figure it out, but alas, she was blissfully distracted by the thrilling touch of one dashing rogue sailor, and could not think straight to save her soul.
    Damian’s fingers trailed roughly down her arm, her skin tingling, and when he took the knife from her hand, she didn’t protest. She let the handle slip free.
    The blade point hit the wall behind her.
    She couldn’t move. Figuratively, of course. It would be so simple to duck out from under Damian’s embrace and dash out the door, but her feet wouldn’t budge. She didn’t want them to budge. She was content to explore the feelings inside her just a tad longer. She was going to regret it later, she was sure, but right then, she didn’t care, too engrossed by what was happening to bring the erotic moment to an end.
    Damian pressed the pad of his thumb over her mouth.
    She took in a sharp breath. It felt so good to be touched by him. Too good, perhaps. She didn’t understand why. But she was sure it was the most arousing sentiment she would ever experience in her life. And she wanted to make it even more stimulating…
    Mirabelle let her lips close tight over his thumb.
    He bristled. The tension in him hummed through every pore of his body; she could feel it.
    She flicked her tongue over the pad of his finger in a wet and lanky stroke.
    Kiss me, Damian .
    She looked deep into his eyes, dark as a watery sea at midnight. Tremors rolled along his limbs. He was tempted to take her and fighting it.