Further Than Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

and she needed to remember that fact. He was an experienced, sophisticated libertine, while she was on the second day of her first trip to London.
    "You have the most fabulous hair."
    "And you are an unmitigated flatterer."
    He riffled through the lengthy tresses, lifting and parting the strands, and her heart fluttered. She'd never
     
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    had a man compliment her before, had never strolled with a beau in the moonlight, or been walked home from church.
    With no dowry and no prospects, she was insignificant, invisible, a nonentity, who was not a servant and was barely a member of the family. No gentleman worth having would want her. His accolade pricked at her vanity, and she craved it to be true. It had been so long since another person had actually noticed her, and she was pitifully desperate for approval .
    "Whenever you visit me," he proclaimed, "you're to have it down and brushed out."
    The oaf was insufferable! Was he deaf? "I'm not coming again. Haven't you listened to a single word I've said?"
    "No."
    He clasped her wrist and reclined on the sofa, and he pulled her down so that she was sprawled on top of him. Squealing with affront, she tried to wiggle away, but he had her pinned to him. Escape was impossible.
    They were molded together. Feet, thighs, loins, tummies, they were forged fast. Her breasts were squashed to his chest, and her nipples leapt to attention. When she shifted the slightest inch, they ached and throbbed.
    She was embarrassed, and she increased her struggles, eager to create space between them, which he prevented by planting his hand on her rear.
    He ground her crotch into his, and her torso recognized that this was what she'd been needing. Instinctively, her hips flexed, and he laughed! The swine!
    "What a little hellcat you are."
    "Release me."
    "No."
     
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    He burrowed her even nearer, and he flexed into her, the action like nothing she'd ever felt before, like nothing she could have imagined.
    "Why are you pressing into me like that?"
    He ignored her question and asked his own. "How did you manage to sneak in here last night?"
    "I've no idea to what you allude." She would deny it into infinity.
    "Why have you taken my ring?"
    "I haven't!' ?
    He studied her, then cautioned, "You shouldn't lie to me, Kate. I can tell when you are." He was caressing her bottom, so it was difficult to concentrate, to maintain any distance. "So what will you do with it? Will you keep it as a memento? Or will you return it when I'm not on the premises to catch you? That way, we can pretend it was never missing."
    She frowned at how he'd deduced her plan, and he smirked. "I see. You've decided to put it back when I'm not looking. Well then, why don't you advise me of when, so I can absent myself? It will make everything so much easier."
    "I don't have your ring," she contended.
    He rolled them, altering their positions so that she was underneath him. Instantly, she was trappe d — a nd furious that she was. She'd intended to dominate the meeting, to briefly speak her piece, then be about her business, with her reputation and chastity intact.
    How was she to proceed now? She was supposed to be convincing him of her high morals, but her body was rapidly conveying her to a spot where she didn't wish to be.
     
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    "Let me up."
    "No."
    She sighed. "Talking to you is like talking to the wallpaper."
    "I'd heed you ... if you ever said anything worthwhile."
    H e was fussing with her gown, trying to undo the buttons. "Are you about to ravish me?"
    "Yes, but you'll like it."
    "Stop it. At once."
    "Sorry, but I can't oblige you."
    "Lord Stamford!" The top button popped free. "Lord Stamford! Marcus!"
    He grinned, never having doubted that he could wheedle her into calling him by his given name. And so quickly, too. "Yes, Kate. What is it?"
    "I'm not about to simply relax, while you remove my clothes and ... and ..."
    She wanted to inform him of all the things she would not do, but she had no terminology for discussing carnal