Rose's Rapture: Lords of the Night, Book Two by Jordan Summers Page B

guided her to the end of the terrace, then turned to stroll back.
    “You mentioned something about Rose,” she prompted.
    “Yes, I believe I saw her conversing with Laird Hamish MacDougall prior to her sudden departure.”
    Abigail frowned. Hamish had always been a perfect gentleman. She couldn’t imagine he could have possibly said to upset Rose so. “I’ll look into it,” she said, then added, “how come we’ve never met until now?” Abigail examined his chiseled features in the low lighting. He reminded her of the statues she’d seen in the museums in France as a child. Perfectly formed and nearly flawless, their beauty trapped in marble for an eternity.
    Lazarus tensed momentarily, then casually shrugged. “I’ve been locked into...doing business in London. Escape until now has not been possible. May I ask you a personal question?”
    Abigail hesitated.
    Lazarus squeezed her fingertips in reassurance.
    She took a deep breath. “Of course.”
    “Why have you not remarried? You are such an exquisite creature that I can’t imagine one of these young bucks not snatching you up,” he said. “Though I am grateful that they did not.”
    She blushed. “Thank you, but the answer is quite simple, I have no wish to marry again.”
    Lazarus glanced at her, clearly intrigued by her response. “Why is that?”
    Abigail laughed. “I am sure that through the eyes of a man a woman not seeking marriage is somewhat of an oddity, but I relish my freedom.”
    He pondered her answer, then said, “It’s possible to be married and have freedom.”
    She snorted. “Only for a man.”
    Lazarus’s lips quirked and his eyes sparkled devilishly. “I suppose that’s true. What of lovers? Surely you’ve had lovers since your husband’s death.”
    Abigail pulled back aghast. She’d known from the moment they’d met that he was brazen, a rake in the first order. She just didn’t know how brazen until now. “I daresay that is too personal, my lord.”
    “Forgive me, my lady.” He bowed low. “I was only inquiring to see if the position was available, not to pry.” His smile widened.
    Abigail laughed. She couldn’t help it. “You are quite bold.”
    Lazarus leaned closer. “You have no idea how bold I can be. Allow me to demonstrate,” he said, taking her into his arms.
    “What are you doing? This is entirely improper, my lord. Someone might see.”
    “They won’t,” he said, his warm breath fanning across her face. The press of his firm lips sent Abigail’s head spinning. Her hands automatically reached for his arms in order to steady herself. Lazarus teased her mouth, coaxing a response like a master lover. The words stuck in her mind. Abigail had no doubt he would be too, if she allowed him in her bed.
    The thought sent moisture flooding to places in her body she’d thought were long dead. Her nipples pebbled beneath her gown as he pulled her closer, molding her length to his chest. Abigail heard a moan, but she had no idea whether it came from him or her. She curled her fingers until she gripped his coat. The sweet taste of his kiss enveloped her, drugging her senses, while spiking her need. Suddenly, Abigail couldn’t get enough of him.
    Lazarus deepened the kiss as nourishment from her passion fed his body. His cells came to life, hardening his shaft and sharpening his thoughts. He wanted this woman, needed her. The venom he carried in his saliva that worked like an aphrodisiac spread from his mouth to hers. His hunger exploded as he nipped her lips and teased her tongue. She tasted like the sweetest confection, the richest wine. And he would never get enough of her. Soon she would need his touch, crave it, like he craved hers.
    That thought brought him up short and he pulled back, while he still had the strength to do so. Lazarus’s body protested, not nearly sated. He’d promised Abigail he would only take a moment of her time. He had to get her back in the room before his magic wore off and her