Free Edith Layton by The Cad Page A

and desire and laughter there. She knew very well that she should draw away. But she discovered she couldn’t, because she didn’t want to. She closed her eyes. He was coming so close…. Her pulse was racing so hard she could scarcely breathe. Then she forgot about breathing altogether, because he put his warm, firm mouth on hers, and she couldn’t seem to think at all anymore.
    His lips were warm, his mouth was hot. He touched her lips with his tongue. She startled and opened her mouth to ask why, and he gave her his tongue as an answer. So strange, so sweet, so shocking…but hewas intoxicating. He tasted dark and winey, sweet and astonishing. She felt the strength of his body against hers, his hard hands holding her still for his kiss. He didn’t need to. Her hands went to his wide shoulders, her mouth opened to him, her body yearned toward him.
    “Yes,” he said triumphantly when his lips finally left hers, “it’s all there, everything I imagined. You have been thinking about me, sweet Bridget. Here, something else to think about,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers again.
    She wanted to warn him someone might see, she wanted to tell him she didn’t do that kind of thing, she needed to say she was sorry, sorry…But she was floating. All she could do was drink in his kiss and try to get closer to the warm and solid reality of him, the worst man she could ever have needed so badly.

5
    “Y es,” Ewen breathed with satisfaction as he lifted his lips from hers again. But now the world was returning to Bridget, and he could see the worry springing into her eyes. He knew how to deal with that. He knew what he most wanted to do, too. They were the same thing. He bent his head to hers again.
    “No!” she said quickly, blinking as though waking at last. “You mustn’t—” She stopped, because she really ought to have said “we mustn’t,” and she was shamed to realize it.
    “Mustn’t I?” he purred, his lips on her cheek, his cheek against hers.
    There were so many other denials she could make. But it was herself she had to plead with, not him. One last kiss, just one, please ? she asked herself. She answeredherself by closing her eyes, tilting up her head, waiting for his kiss. He did something even more intimate.
    She felt his fingers at her neck, by her breast. Her eyes flew open. It was done in a moment. He undid the string of her bonnet, took it off, and flung it away. She gasped, her hands flying to her hair. He put his hands over hers and cupped her head so he could look fully into her face.
    “Lovely,” he murmured, gazing at the tumble of soft dark brown hair that rippled around her face. “Rich chocolate, with the sunlight finding cinnamon in it. Thick, lush—a crime to cover it. But if you must, we’ll find you something to set it off, not hide it.”
    But she was near tears now. The sun was full on her face and she couldn’t cover her scar from him. He held her head so she couldn’t lower or turn it from his gaze. Her heart was surely in her eyes, she knew it had been in her kiss, and she couldn’t hide that from him anymore, either. She was exposed, completely. She writhed, feeling like some kind of insect of the dark suddenly revealed, attempting vainly to scuttle from the light of the day, as she tried to look away from the heat of his stare.
    “Don’t,” she whimpered, looking for a place to hide her face. His chest was as good as any. Too good, she discovered when he held her close, crooning to her, stroking her. Too warm and strong, and scented too interestingly of clean linen, sandalwood, and Ewen. His big hand made slow, gentle circles on her back as he made soothing noises low in his throat. Too soothing. Too close. Too many wonderful sensations at once woke her to her situation.
    She hadn’t been hugged in seven years, much lessheld—and never like this. She tried to pull away, trying to pull herself together as well. He let her go at once. She accepted his