Rogue in Red Velvet Read Online Free PDF

letters. “These are a quarter of a century later. A shame because they won’t marry up. What about the other inventories?”
    She was glad of his help with the heavy books they’d collected in the dusty storeroom, now thankfully properly cleaned. He spread them out on the long table and she opened the letters and flipped through them. At least they’d been bound in roughly date order. She fetched the other documents and books she’d discovered and they matched them to the books by date, occasionally reading out juicy extracts, showing the quaint habits of a bygone age, or strange connections with their own.
    Slowly a picture formed, of people and the way they lived. Not dry historical characters but living, breathing people. “I love this.”
    He glanced at her. “I can tell. You glow when you make a new discovery. In a way, it’s a shame you don’t hire yourself out doing this kind of work. My father would employ you in a heartbeat.” He leaned back in his high-backed chair, one he’d pulled over from a nearby window embrasure. “You could make a career of it.”
    “The Downhollands have an interesting history.” Her heart quickened. She’d dearly love to, but because of her birth, her status and her sex, she had little opportunity. “Careers are for men.”
    “Tell that to the florists of London, the women who run successful businesses in the city and for that matter, the housekeepers and lady’s maids.”
    She turned with a smile. “That’s a very enlightened point of view.”
    He shrugged. “It’s a practical one. I’ve never ignored what I can see and experience.” The expression in his eyes heated, and their gazes locked and held. Slowly he got to his feet and stood over her.
    She didn’t give way this time. He gazed at her and this time she met the warm, desirous expression in his dark eyes, the way he crowded her, as if to protect her. But danger lay in his closeness, an intimacy she didn’t know how to manage. Her body responded, softening and dampening for him.
    “So what am I experiencing here?” he murmured. Someone on the other side of the table wouldn’t have heard him clearly.
    She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I don’t know.”
    “I think you do.” His arms went around her, holding her close to his strong body and he brought his mouth down to hers.
    She expected fast ravishment but what she got was slow seduction. His lips touched hers, then he grazed them, adding a final, loving touch that she couldn’t resist.
    He held her in his thrall, spellbound and finally she admitted the truth of her feelings for him. She wanted him, so much, and even though she couldn’t have him, she’d at least have this. She’d lain awake longing to know what his kiss was like, how he’d feel.
    Exquisite, that was how. His tongue flicked out and touched her lips, outlined them. The featherlike brush sensitized her, readied her for him, made her want to feel him deeper, more intimately.
    She parted her lips, just a little. He darted his tongue in, tasting, then out, then with a groan, he tilted his head and pressed his mouth more firmly over hers, sealing them together. She grasped his waist, impatiently shoving his coat aside, getting as close as she could to that firm, male skin. Only his waistcoat. He spread his hands over her back and held her close, making her feel absurdly safe, all the time plundering her like a pirate. He swept his tongue into her mouth, exploring her like a man dying of thirst. She gave a single sigh of acceptance and relaxed back into his arms, letting him support her.
    She’d never experienced anything like this, this sense of oneness, of two people striving together toward a mutual end. He tasted wonderful as he marked his presence on her heart and soul, there for all time.
    He devoured her, taking her mouth in a ravishment more complete than she’d ever known. This wasn’t a kiss—it was lovemaking.
    When he drew back, he gazed at her from under heavy lids.