Mischief by Amanda Quick

arms around him and gave him what was no doubt meant to be a quick, reassuring hug.
    The tattered leash Matthias was using to hold on to his self-control snapped. Before Imogen could pull away, he wrapped her close.
    “Sir?” Her eyes widened with surprise.
    “The only aspect of this situation that truly alarms me, Miss Waterstone,” he said roughly, “is the question of who will protect me from you.”
    Before she could reply, he crushed her mouth beneath his own.

Chapter 3
    Imogen stilled. For an instant all her senses seemed to collide, producing a dazzling chaos. She had always prided herself on the strength of her nerves. She had never suffered from an attack of the vapors, never felt faint, never succumbed to light-headedness or a giddy sensation. But at that moment she felt utterly dazed.
    Her breath caught in her throat. Her palms were suddenly damp. Her thoughts, which had been quite lucid only a second before, were now in a shambles. Everything around her appeared to have gone suddenly askew. She shivered and then felt a delicious, almost feverish warmth spread through her.
    If she had not been positive that she enjoyed excellent health, she would have thought she was ill.
    Matthias groaned and deepened the kiss, crushing her closer to his hard, unyielding body. She felt his tongue trace her lips and realized with a shock that he wanted her to open her mouth for him. Intense curiosity swept over her. Tentatively, she parted her lips. Matthias’s tongue surged between them.
    Shocked by the intimate kiss, Imogen went weak at the knees. The world spun around her. She gripped Matthias’s shoulders very tightly, afraid that she would fall if he were to release her.
    But Matthias made no move to set her free. Instead, his arms tightened around her, pulling her so close that she could feel the alarming bulge in his snug breeches. She knew that he must surely be aware of her breasts pressed against his broad chest. He shifted slightly, bending her backward. One of his booted feet slid between her legs. She could feel the fierce strength in his thigh.
    Sensations flowed through Imogen, wild, turbulent feelings that were unlike any she had ever known. She was not entirely without experience, she reminded herself in a desperate bid for sanity. But there was no denying that not even Philippe D’Artois’s practiced kisses or Alastair Drake’s chaste embraces had tumbled her senses into such shimmering disarray.
    Passion. This was true passion at long last. A thrill of fiery excitement unfurled within Imogen.
    With a soft, wordless exclamation of delight that was somewhat muffled by the pressure of Matthias’s demanding mouth, she tightened her arms around his neck.
    “Imogen.” Matthias raised his head. His austere face was taut. His eyes were no longer an emotionless, ghostly gray. They burned. It was as though he looked into an oracle glass in search of answers to some unknown question. “What the devil am I doing?”
    Reality returned with a shattering effect. Imogen gazed at Matthias, aware that he regretted the rash impulse that had made him take her into his arms.
    Ruthlessly Imogen squelched the keen sense of loss that welled up within her. She fought for composure while she desperately sought appropriate words for a most inappropriate situation.
    “Calm yourself, my lord.” She struggled to adjust her cap. “This was not your fault.”
    “It wasn’t?”
    “No, indeed,” she assured him breathlessly. “This sort of thing can happen when the darker passions are aroused. My parents had the very same problem. Any argument that flared between them always ended in this fashion.”
    “I see.”
    “You and I were quarreling a moment ago and I expect the emotions of the moment temporarily overcame your self-mastery.”
    “I knew I could depend upon you for an intelligent explanation, Miss Waterstone.” Matthias’s eyes gleamed. “Are you ever at a loss for words?”
    Uncertainty tingled deep within