Free Her Quicksilver Lover: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 6 by Lynne Connolly Page B

doing. Her instinct was to reach out for him, but he moved away and turned his back.
    Covering her breasts with one arm, she frantically searched for her fichu. Sitting up, she shoved her breasts back into her bodice, none too gently, until he crooned something to her. He had turned around. Although dishevelled, he was correctly dressed, while she was fully marauded. One garter had come loose, her fichu was gone and she had shamelessly all but begged him to take her.
    Shock arced through her. Grabbing her fichu from the floor, she shook it and flicked it around her shoulders, trying to tuck it back in, but her hands trembled too much for her to control her actions.
    The comte dropped to his knees and took the fabric from her. “Let me.” He folded and tucked where she could not, and neatly folded it back where it belonged. Mortification spread hot fingers through her, and her tears ran down her face.
    Halfway through his task, he glanced up at her, consternation in his eyes. “My fault, this was entirely my fault.” Cupping her face with both hands, he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. When she would have closed her eyes, so she did not have to look at him, he shook his head slightly. “No, don’t hide away. Face this. Face it with me.”
    Even this close, he was so beautiful she could hardly bear it. Beautiful in a hard-edged, masculine way. He moved with grace, but it was the grace of a man used to wielding a sword. He dressed well, but was not a slave to his clothes. He had a bright, quick intelligence that few people could match. All these things she knew, the surety sinking into her mind with a certainty that would not be denied.
    She gazed back and swallowed. “I have never done anything like this before. That is, I don’t know why…”
    He nodded, a short jerk of his chin. “I know. I meant to share a few kisses with you, that’s all. Not this. You set a fire in me, one I can’t resist, and I’m guessing it’s the same with you. Now, do we act on this, or do we stay apart?”
    “Will it go away?” She was making it sound like some kind of disease.
    “I can’t promise that, but it will subside to bearable.” He smoothed his thumb over her cheeks. His mouth flattened, the lines tightening. “I will not take you in a frenzy. I will not allow you to say that it’s all me, that I forced you to it. And I will not do anything you do not want me to do.”
    “How do I know what I want? I’m not experienced, I don’t know what is expected, or what happens!”
    “If you dislike something, or if you don’t want to do it, say so. Or I can read your body.” Groaning, he got to his feet. “Forgive me. I should not even be speaking to you this way.” He crossed the room to the mirror that hung above the sideboard, and smoothed his hair back. Plucking a comb from his pocket, he plied it vigorously. Too vigorously, perhaps, as his hair crackled and strands rose, sparked by the friction.
    He spoke to her while he was putting himself to rights. “You’re a respectable woman, I can see that. My only excuse is that I want you too much. You’ve unbalanced me. I never imagined that I could become so carried away by a few kisses.”
    Deftly, he smoothed his hair back and tied it. The bow was not quite as perfect as before, but then, she had crumpled it when she’d tugged it free. Next he turned to his neckcloth.
    Joanna had never known anyone quite as devastating as this man. Her blood ran cold when she thought what he could have done to her. No, what they could have done. He was right. She wanted it too.
    He turned, but did not move towards her. “When we do this, it will be in full knowledge of what and why.” He touched his finger to his chin. She studied his long, lean length, allowing herself the luxury of admiring his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and powerful thighs. And this glorious man wanted her?
    “Why me?”
    “Ah.” He took his time, as if working out what to say. “That is a question I