Free One Dangerous Desire (Accidental Heirs) by Christy Carlyle Page B

expected her to pull away or even strike him for his teasing tone, but she simply stared down at the spot where he held her.
    “I did not wear this dress for you.”
    “I wish you had.” If only she had. If only he could have her and the Pinnacle and every other goal he’d yet to achieve. He didn’t need anyone to tell him it was more than he deserved. Just as he needed no one to spell out who she’d worn the dress to impress. Devenham’s gaze had been firmly affixed to her chest from the moment he pranced into Ashworth’s drawing room.
    “We’re past wishes, Mr. Leighton.”
    “Rex,” he corrected, sliding a hand up to skim his fingertips along the bare patch of skin between the top of her damnably long gloves and the sleeve of her gown. So soft. Just as he remembered. He wanted to touch his tongue to her skin, and find out if she still tasted sweet too.
    “Your five minutes are up, Rex .”
    He circled her arm and dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “This won’t take long, but it will be better if it does.”
    She gasped. Not a sound of shock but a frisson of awareness. He lifted his head to look into her eyes. Smoky blue sapphire glinted back at him in the moonlight.
    One taste. One kiss, and he’d walk away and let her have the life she deserved.
    H E WAS GOING to kiss her. That mercurial gaze of his fixed on her mouth. The first time he’d kissed her, he’d stared at her this way. Hot and eager, focusing on her lips as if he’d reached the end of a long journey, and she was his reward. As if nothing mattered more than pressing his mouth to hers.
    Waiting breathlessly for her first kiss, her heart had thudded so fiercely she’d feared fainting or an attack of apoplexy before his lips ever touched hers.
    And when they had. Mercy. That kiss had been everything—delicious, sinful, sweet, and not nearly long enough. All the rumors she’d heard had underrated every aspect of kissing. And no one had warned her how addictive it could be to kiss a man who touched her as no one had before. She still remembered the taste of him. Heaven help her, she wanted his kiss again.
    May leaned in a few inches too far, nearly tipping off balance, and he reached an arm out to catch her.
    “May,” he whispered, and she pressed into him. A tall, heated wall of a man who’d once been all she ever wanted. “One kiss, May.”
    When his other arm slid around her waist and he pulled her in, she eased onto her tiptoes. His spice and bergamot scent was new, but all the rest felt familiar. And right. So very right.
    She reached up to run a finger along the edge of that firm, square jaw of his, and he seemed to take the caress as her answer. He lowered his head and took her mouth. Not the sweet, gentle teasing of their first kiss but a deep, fierce reclaiming. Responding with her own fire, she loosed all her anger and regret, weeks and months and years of missing him. Reaching up, she slid her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the softness and then gripping a handful to pull him closer. Mine. You should have been mine. She’d wanted him then. She wanted him now.
    When a moan rumbled between them, she knew he’d crashed past all her resentment, earning a bit of the forgiveness she’d spoken of so blithely. But it wasn’t her moan. It was his, and she opened to him, letting him slip his tongue between her lips, letting his hands wander from her waist. He gripped her backside and pulled her closer, then reached up to stroke the sensitive skin of her neck, then lower, tugging at her already low bodice, skimming the edge of her corset and chemise.
    She’d wanted this from the second she’d seen him again. Maybe she’d never stopped wanting him.
    Arching her back, May pushed against his hand, needing him to explore the places she’d never let him touch. Their past romance had consisted of a few stolen kisses. Wonderful, drugging, unforgettable kisses but too few of them. Propriety had kept her from allowing him more.