lady are out. A pressing matter called them away early."
"How disappointing," said Yasmine.
The butler met Jorge's gaze, and an understanding passed between them. The servant sniffed in a distinctly werewolf manner. "My lady, perhaps you'd like to come inside." He placed a hand on the door's handle.
"She's fine," said Jorge, fighting an urge to wrinkle his nose in warning. "I'll see her home, good man. Please inform Lord Malveaux that Lady Yasmine and the Marquis of Austral came calling. We'll try again another time."
The man looked to her. "My lady, you're very welcome to come inside." He cut a quick glance at Jorge.
Yasmine smiled kindly. "Thank you, Butters. That's generous of you, but Lord Grauwolf's right. It's better if I go home."
The butler retreated a step and bowed.
As they headed toward the road, she leaned near and asked, "What was that all about?" Her brow angled sharply.
He shrugged.
"Don't play ignorant."
"Then don't play the prude." He reached over and cupped her breast. He rubbed his thumb across the hardening nub of her nipple.
She slapped him. "You're too bold . " She crossed her arms and stared out the window.
He touched fingertips to his tingling cheek and smiled. He appreciated her spunk.
"A lady wants to be gently wooed, not grabbed or pawed." She huffed.
He smiled bigger at her choice of words. If only she knew… "Is that an invitation to court you?"
Rubbing her palms on the fabric covering her knees, she said, "To be honest, I'm not sure. You vex me so often, and I admit to making an attempt to avoid you this morning."
"That's remarkably honest of you."
She faced him. "But there's a quality about you that appeals to me beyond reason. I'm confused." She glanced out the window and frowned. "The moon's out. How odd. Did you know tonight's a full moon?"
"I did." Even as he said the words, the lunar pull ignited his blood. The pull had been with him since the day before. The restlessness driving him since puberty grew greater than ever. "Come to my aunt's house with me."
She shook her head. "I'd be pleased to have my driver deliver you on my way home, but I can't stay. I'll have a stable hand bring your horse from my father's house." She knocked on the roof then opened the window and instructed her driver.
"Yasmine." A stirring of desire flared . He had to touch her.
She closed the window. "Yes?"
He took her hand. Cupping his fingers alongside her long, slender neck, he stared into her widening eyes. "I need you," he whispered. His gaze went to her lips a moment before he captured them with his own.
She stiffened, but only briefly. As he tilted, brush ing his mouth across her sweet lips, she softened. S he pressed into his kiss on a feminine moan of surrender that fed the flames in his belly. She sent her fingers into his hair and closed her eyes.
He closed his, too. Urging her to open, he lost himself in her. The silken slide of her tongue along his. The scent of Queen Anne's lace and orchid that clung to her hair and skin. The welcoming curves of her body against him.
Their breathing grew louder, filling the cab with the sound of their burgeoning excitement. Her sensuality drew him irresistibly, as though she bore a bit of the moon inside her. Despite an urgent hunger for her, he gentled. He slowed his kiss and his caresses, and the more patient he became, the greater her passion grew .
She groaned while her arms went about his shoulders and her lace-encased breasts crushed to his jacket. Her physical response to his attention sharp ly contrast ed the indignant prig she tried to act . He liked how she endeavored to behave as a lady of propriety, but with him, she couldn't .
He also liked how her morning attire offered far fewer restrictions and constraints than her eveningwear of the night before. Her breasts rode free above her smaller corset, covered only by two thin layers of cloth. No petticoat. No tight fabric and frustrating buttons.
He had to see how far she'd let him
"How disappointing," said Yasmine.
The butler met Jorge's gaze, and an understanding passed between them. The servant sniffed in a distinctly werewolf manner. "My lady, perhaps you'd like to come inside." He placed a hand on the door's handle.
"She's fine," said Jorge, fighting an urge to wrinkle his nose in warning. "I'll see her home, good man. Please inform Lord Malveaux that Lady Yasmine and the Marquis of Austral came calling. We'll try again another time."
The man looked to her. "My lady, you're very welcome to come inside." He cut a quick glance at Jorge.
Yasmine smiled kindly. "Thank you, Butters. That's generous of you, but Lord Grauwolf's right. It's better if I go home."
The butler retreated a step and bowed.
As they headed toward the road, she leaned near and asked, "What was that all about?" Her brow angled sharply.
He shrugged.
"Don't play ignorant."
"Then don't play the prude." He reached over and cupped her breast. He rubbed his thumb across the hardening nub of her nipple.
She slapped him. "You're too bold . " She crossed her arms and stared out the window.
He touched fingertips to his tingling cheek and smiled. He appreciated her spunk.
"A lady wants to be gently wooed, not grabbed or pawed." She huffed.
He smiled bigger at her choice of words. If only she knew… "Is that an invitation to court you?"
Rubbing her palms on the fabric covering her knees, she said, "To be honest, I'm not sure. You vex me so often, and I admit to making an attempt to avoid you this morning."
"That's remarkably honest of you."
She faced him. "But there's a quality about you that appeals to me beyond reason. I'm confused." She glanced out the window and frowned. "The moon's out. How odd. Did you know tonight's a full moon?"
"I did." Even as he said the words, the lunar pull ignited his blood. The pull had been with him since the day before. The restlessness driving him since puberty grew greater than ever. "Come to my aunt's house with me."
She shook her head. "I'd be pleased to have my driver deliver you on my way home, but I can't stay. I'll have a stable hand bring your horse from my father's house." She knocked on the roof then opened the window and instructed her driver.
"Yasmine." A stirring of desire flared . He had to touch her.
She closed the window. "Yes?"
He took her hand. Cupping his fingers alongside her long, slender neck, he stared into her widening eyes. "I need you," he whispered. His gaze went to her lips a moment before he captured them with his own.
She stiffened, but only briefly. As he tilted, brush ing his mouth across her sweet lips, she softened. S he pressed into his kiss on a feminine moan of surrender that fed the flames in his belly. She sent her fingers into his hair and closed her eyes.
He closed his, too. Urging her to open, he lost himself in her. The silken slide of her tongue along his. The scent of Queen Anne's lace and orchid that clung to her hair and skin. The welcoming curves of her body against him.
Their breathing grew louder, filling the cab with the sound of their burgeoning excitement. Her sensuality drew him irresistibly, as though she bore a bit of the moon inside her. Despite an urgent hunger for her, he gentled. He slowed his kiss and his caresses, and the more patient he became, the greater her passion grew .
She groaned while her arms went about his shoulders and her lace-encased breasts crushed to his jacket. Her physical response to his attention sharp ly contrast ed the indignant prig she tried to act . He liked how she endeavored to behave as a lady of propriety, but with him, she couldn't .
He also liked how her morning attire offered far fewer restrictions and constraints than her eveningwear of the night before. Her breasts rode free above her smaller corset, covered only by two thin layers of cloth. No petticoat. No tight fabric and frustrating buttons.
He had to see how far she'd let him
Similar Books
Meet Me at the Chapel
Joanna Sims
Safeword: Arabesque (Safewords Book 9)
Candace Blevins
Red Berries, White Clouds, Blue Sky
Sandra Dallas
In the Orient
Art Collins
Falling for Sarah
Cate Beauman
Forbidden Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book 9)
Addison Moore
Kill All the Lawyers
Paul Levine
Controlled Explosions
Claire McGowan
The Invisible Enemy
Marthe Jocelyn
A Tap on the Window
Linwood Barclay