would be overwhelmed by everything happening at once and a thousand decisions having to be made all at the same moment."
"We would be dying as we were born." He chuckled suddenly. "Thisis why we stepped into the forest?"
"Dalliance was your idea," she reminded him. "Mine was to escape the tedium of a grand squeeze of a social event for a short while."
"I am slain," he said, slapping one hand over his heart again. "All this was arranged for your delight,ma chère, and it istedious ?"
"Not at all." She stepped a little closer again. "It is magical, a feast for the senses. But it is only now, when I can also be aware of the darkness and silence and peace of the forest that I can fully appreciate the lights and the gaiety and the laughter. Having a picnic here, Lord Rosthorn, was an inspired idea, and I thank you for it." She smiled very brightly and very deliberately at him.
Her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. He was smiling lazily back at her.
"Youare an enchantress," he said. "You have turned the tables on me, have you not, Lady Morgan Bedwyn? You have played me at my own game and talked philosophy at me when I would have been talking dalliance. You have even provoked me into talking philosophy back at you. But I am not so easily diverted from my baser instincts. I really must steal a kiss from you. And since you have bravely claimed that I will not be allowed to steal a second or a third, I had better make the most of the initial theft."
For the first time she felt a little frisson of fear. Though perhapsfear was not quite the word since she did not believe he would really grab her and seduce her against her will. They were also still close enough to the picnic area that screams would surely bring other people running.
What she felt was a quickening of her breath and a weakening of her knees and a realization that she had stepped far too close to him for comfort. And an understanding that it was not, of course, fear that she felt at all.
It was desire.
Shewanted him to kiss her.
Consequently, she almost took a step back. She almost turned and hurried away. For she had played with fire and was likely to get burned after all. More, she was close to showing him how easily she could be dallied with, how easy a prey she was to a practiced rake.
Annoyance came to her rescue-as well as her Bedwyn pride. How ridiculous! He was but an idle rake when all was said and done.
She took another step forward and tipped back her head.
"Oh, you will steal nothing," she said, her tone cool, her voice admirably steady. "I came out here fully intending to be kissed. You have not been clever at all, Lord Rosthorn, only mildly diverting. Kiss me."
For a few moments he did not move. He lounged against the tree, his arms still crossed, and regarded her with obvious amusement. She raised her eyebrows and gazed back. And then he uncrossed his arms, pushed himself away from the tree, and cupped her face in his hands.
She expected something aggressive, something fierce, something forceful and masterly. Something, quite frankly, that would be earth-shattering. But his lips, when they touched hers, were warm, soft, slightly parted, and feather-light. If for the first moment she was disappointed, however, she soon changed her mind. While her lips remained still, his moved. He brushed them softly over her own, licked them lightly with his tongue, nipped gently on the lower one with his teeth, and then curled his tongue behind her lips to stroke over the moist, sensitive flesh within. The warmth of his breath caressed her cheek.
The effects of the kiss, she discovered, were not confined to the area of her lips. The whole cavity of her mouth ached, and then her throat and her breasts and her abdomen and her inner thighs. By the time he lifted his head away, she understood how even a single kiss could be a dangerous thing. She could feel his body heat from her eyebrows to her toes. She was shockingly aware of his maleness.
He dropped
"We would be dying as we were born." He chuckled suddenly. "Thisis why we stepped into the forest?"
"Dalliance was your idea," she reminded him. "Mine was to escape the tedium of a grand squeeze of a social event for a short while."
"I am slain," he said, slapping one hand over his heart again. "All this was arranged for your delight,ma chère, and it istedious ?"
"Not at all." She stepped a little closer again. "It is magical, a feast for the senses. But it is only now, when I can also be aware of the darkness and silence and peace of the forest that I can fully appreciate the lights and the gaiety and the laughter. Having a picnic here, Lord Rosthorn, was an inspired idea, and I thank you for it." She smiled very brightly and very deliberately at him.
Her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. He was smiling lazily back at her.
"Youare an enchantress," he said. "You have turned the tables on me, have you not, Lady Morgan Bedwyn? You have played me at my own game and talked philosophy at me when I would have been talking dalliance. You have even provoked me into talking philosophy back at you. But I am not so easily diverted from my baser instincts. I really must steal a kiss from you. And since you have bravely claimed that I will not be allowed to steal a second or a third, I had better make the most of the initial theft."
For the first time she felt a little frisson of fear. Though perhapsfear was not quite the word since she did not believe he would really grab her and seduce her against her will. They were also still close enough to the picnic area that screams would surely bring other people running.
What she felt was a quickening of her breath and a weakening of her knees and a realization that she had stepped far too close to him for comfort. And an understanding that it was not, of course, fear that she felt at all.
It was desire.
Shewanted him to kiss her.
Consequently, she almost took a step back. She almost turned and hurried away. For she had played with fire and was likely to get burned after all. More, she was close to showing him how easily she could be dallied with, how easy a prey she was to a practiced rake.
Annoyance came to her rescue-as well as her Bedwyn pride. How ridiculous! He was but an idle rake when all was said and done.
She took another step forward and tipped back her head.
"Oh, you will steal nothing," she said, her tone cool, her voice admirably steady. "I came out here fully intending to be kissed. You have not been clever at all, Lord Rosthorn, only mildly diverting. Kiss me."
For a few moments he did not move. He lounged against the tree, his arms still crossed, and regarded her with obvious amusement. She raised her eyebrows and gazed back. And then he uncrossed his arms, pushed himself away from the tree, and cupped her face in his hands.
She expected something aggressive, something fierce, something forceful and masterly. Something, quite frankly, that would be earth-shattering. But his lips, when they touched hers, were warm, soft, slightly parted, and feather-light. If for the first moment she was disappointed, however, she soon changed her mind. While her lips remained still, his moved. He brushed them softly over her own, licked them lightly with his tongue, nipped gently on the lower one with his teeth, and then curled his tongue behind her lips to stroke over the moist, sensitive flesh within. The warmth of his breath caressed her cheek.
The effects of the kiss, she discovered, were not confined to the area of her lips. The whole cavity of her mouth ached, and then her throat and her breasts and her abdomen and her inner thighs. By the time he lifted his head away, she understood how even a single kiss could be a dangerous thing. She could feel his body heat from her eyebrows to her toes. She was shockingly aware of his maleness.
He dropped
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