Midsummer Moon Read Online Free PDF Page B

another, and looked down to find that he had finished it off. “Blast,” he said. “Is there more of that?"
    She was staring at him, her lips slightly parted. At his question, she looked startled and began to rise. “I'll ask Thaddeus."
    "No.” Ransom stood up, too, and caught her arm as she turned toward the door. “No, don't bother with that. I want...” He paused, looking down into her beautiful eyes. He slid his arms around her and drew her against him. Happy; he was so happy, reveling in her soft shape, her body in his arms. “I want you,” he whispered, bending to her ear. “Come with me."
    "Mr. Duke,” she said in a breathless voice.
    He laughed. “Call me Ransom.” He rocked her gently, drawing her closer. “Little Merlin. Lovely Merlin. Wherever did you get such a name?"
    "My—my uncle—” She straggled, but he held her easily, like a tiny bird in his hands.
    "I'll call you Wiz,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth. “My own wizard. God, you make me feel so good."
    "I don't mean to,” she said in a small, muffled voice. She was wriggling, trying to get her hands against his chest. “Oh, dear—are you going to take liberties with my person?"
    "Yes. Oh, yes. I'm going to be wickedly improper. But I don't care.” Elation and desire sang through him. He caught one of her hands and kissed her palm. “I've been proper all my life. I want to make love to you."
    "Oh,” she said. “Dear me."
    He smiled into her palm. “Beautiful, silly Wiz. Come with me. Let me love you."
    "This won't change my mind,” she mumbled, and then drew in her breath as he kissed the soft skin of her inner wrist. “I won't leave."
    "You don't have to leave. I can love you right here.” She made a small sound, which might have been “Oh” but came out more like a sigh. Ransom recognized that feminine music from a thousand amorous encounters, but this time it filled his soul with special joy. He squeezed her in a burst of adoration and then bent down to lift her. She seemed less substantial than a feather, easy to kiss and cuddle as he strode through the door and turned toward the spiral stairs.
    He had a moment's thought of Thaddeus, but it only made Ransom chuckle to think of confronting the ancient retainer with Miss Lambourne in his arms. He felt confident, daring; he felt positively heroic. He kissed her and pressed her head against his shoulder, subduing her faint wriggling protests and ducking to miss the stone ceiling as he mounted the stairs.
    His mind seemed to be exceptionally quick and clear. He impressed himself with his quick identification of the bedrooms, based on some long-ago lesson in late medieval architecture. The room he chose held a four-poster bed hung about with thick curtains of an awful, heavy green. He kicked the strap-hinged door closed behind them and leaned his shoulders against it, letting her struggle and slip down to her feet.
    She tried to pull away, but he held her close, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, sliding his hands up and down her arms. She smelled like dusty sunlight, warm and human, not perfumed and pomaded like other women he had known. Lord, oh, Lord, he wanted her ... He said so, his voice a low groan against her skin, and then hugged her to him in sheer delight. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to hear her laugh. He lifted his head and tilted her chin up, kissing her nose and her eyelashes, smiling down at her.
    "Mr. Duke,” she stammered. “R-Ransom, I don't at all think you should be doing this."
    "Ah.” He nuzzled her temple, breathing her special scent. “There's nothing else I'd rather be doing."
    She caught her lower lip in her teeth, and a surge of heat went from his chest to his feet in response. He bent and ran his tongue across her mouth, teasing her lip free and nibbling at it himself. Her breath came faster, warming his cheek. She squirmed in his hold.
    "Don't you like it?” he murmured. “Oh, Merlin, sweet wizard, let me show you some