Page 36 of The Hidden Heart

“Thank you. That is very kind of you.”

“I am not really the ogre you think I am.” He hesitated. “I—”

Cleybourne reached a hand toward her, and this time, almost as if it moved without his volition, his hand touched her hair. It was as soft as he had imagined, and the feel of it beneath his fingertips made his loins tighten. He swallowed, trying to assemble some sort of coherent thought. He did not know what it was about this woman. She seemed to be able to rob him of all thought, no matter what the situation, to leave him floundering in a morass of emotions and sensations.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and faintly surprised. Her lips parted a little, soft and pink. His gaze fell to her mouth, and his mind was filled with kissing her. Hunger swelled in him, hard and throbbing, as he thought of tasting those lips, touching her…. He tried to look away, tried to take his hand from her silken curls and move back, but he could not. Instead he leaned forward, his fingers curling into her hair, crushing the curls, and his mouth came down to hers.

He could feel the little intake of air that moved across her lips before his own lips touched hers. He could smell the sweet scent of lavender that clung to her. Richard trembled a little, his body racked by opposing forces, torn between guilt and the fierce desire that snaked through his loins. Then his lips brushed hers, and he was lost to all else but that hunger.

CHAPTER 8

His lips pressed into hers, gently at first, tasting and teasing, experiencing the velvety softness of her mouth, the honeyed taste. Then he shuddered, rocked by the force of need pouring through him, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up hard against his body, burying his lips in hers. Urgent and hard, his mouth merged with hers, demanding all that he desired.

Jessica went limp against him, stunned by the flood of sensations rushing through her. No man had ever looked at her that way or kissed her so. She had never felt a man’s hard body pressed against hers all the way up and down, so that her breasts were flattened against his chest and her abdomen cradled his masculinity. His mouth consumed hers, his tongue arousing her in ways she had never imagined. She trembled and clung to him, lost in a tumultous world of pleasure.

A low, animal noise sounded deep in his throat, and his hands moved around and up her front, easing between their bodies and cupping Jessica’s breasts. He stroked her breasts through the material of her dressing gown, moving the satin against her skin. Jessica’s nipples hardened and tingled, and her breasts felt swollen and aching. Another ache was growing deep inside her, hot and tender, and she squeezed her legs together, trying to ease it. She was aware, faintly shocked, that she wanted to feel his hands upon her naked body, yet she knew instinctively that that would not ease the ache between her legs, only make it grow more.

Richard’s mouth shifted on hers, bringing another wave of pleasure to her, and one hand slid over her breast and beneath the dressing gown. His fingertips moved lightly over her bare breast, arousing the tender skin, exploring the heavy, luscious globe and finding the hardening center. He took the little nub between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed gently. Jessica jerked in surprised pleasure, and a little moan escaped her. She had never felt anything like this, never dreamed of it, yet she found herself hungry for it, eager….

He tore his mouth from hers, kissing his way across her face and down her throat. His hands went beneath her dressing gown, pushing away the sides so that it opened, the sash slipping apart and uncurling. He nibbled at her throat, kissing and laving it tenderly with his tongue, while his hands roamed down her body, gliding over breasts and stomach and hips, curving back over her rounded buttocks. His fingertips dug into the firm cheeks, startling a gasp from Jessica, and pressed her up into his own hardness.

Raw hunger seized Jessica, and she trembled. She wanted something desperately—she wasn’t sure what—and she let out a low groan. “Please…oh, please, don’t…”

She was not sure what she was asking for, whether it was for him to stop the pleasure so intense it was almost pain or to give her a chance to pause for a moment and gather her scattered, wild emotions, or simply for him not to stop what he was doing until she had reached the unknown thing her body sought so achingly. Whatever it was, the word struck him like a blow. He went still, then pulled back with a sharp, indrawn breath.

“Sweet bloody hell!”

Cleybourne took a long step backward. He stared at her for a moment, his chest rising and falling with harsh, ragged breaths. “Oh, God, what am I doing?”

Abruptly he turned and strode out of her room.

Jessica stared after him for a moment, trembling all over. With shaking hands, she pulled the sides of her dressing gown together, wrapping her arms around herself to keep it closed. She sank down onto her bed, her knees suddenly too unsteady to stand.

She knew she must pull herself together. Gabriela and Lady Westhampton would be back at any moment, and she must not let them find her in this state. But neither could she imagine how she could possible resume a normal air. What had just happened was too startling, too bizarre. Jessica could not remember feeling anything this intense, even with her fiancé many years ago. It was not love, she told herself; after all, she didn’t even know the man. It was lust, she supposed, nothing more, but never before had she realized that lust could be so powerful.

Whatever it was, at this moment, she felt as though her life would never be the same.

* * *

Seething with sexual frustration, guilt and self-hatred, Richard stormed down the stairs and along the hall straight to Vesey’s bedroom.

“Vesey!” he roared, turning the knob of Vesey’s door and charging in.

Only Leona was in the bed, and she sat up with a shriek at Richard’s entrance. When she saw who it was, she smiled, saying, “Why, Richard, what a pleasant surprise. I had not expected you to visit me in quite such a forceful way.”

“Where the devil is—” Richard began, looking around the room, then spotted Lord Vesey, lying on the couch, clutching a blanket to him, with a terrified look on his face. “I should have guessed she wouldn’t let you in the bed with her.”

He stalked over to where Vesey lay and reached down, grasping him by the front of his nightgown and jerking him to his feet. There was something decidedly comical about the look of Lord Vesey in a nightgown that revealed his spindly calves and with a silk nightcap on his head, but Richard was too upset to see the humor.

“Damn you, Vesey! I ought to tear your heart out!”

“B-b-but why? What have I done to you?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t care if you sneaked into that child’s room? Did you think I would just look the other way if you tried to have your perverted way with her? Or did you think that you could actually steal her away right from under my nose?”

“In your own house?” Vesey sounded genuinely shocked. “You must be mad! I’m not stupid, you know.”

“That’s debatable.” With a sigh of disgust, Richard pushed him back down onto the couch. “That is the only reason I haven’t torn you apart already. Usually you are too inclined toward self-preservation to try something like that.” He paused, then went on. “The hell of it is, if it wasn’t you, who could it have been?”