Page 73 of Impetuous

When she reached the steps leading down to the lower garden and lawn, she stopped, gazing across the moon-washed landscape toward the distant summerhouse, sitting on the edge of a small, man-made pond.

“Have you been inside it?”

Cassandra jumped and whirled to find Philip standing behind her, smiling. “You scared me! How do you manage to sneak up on a person like that?”

“One of my few talents. I took the shortcut across the grass so I could intercept you. I was looking out the library window and saw you walking.”

“Yes. I hoped a stroll might calm me. I can’t stop thinking about going to London.”

“Mmm. I am afraid that that will have to wait for a couple of days.”

“What? Why?”

“My estate manager came to see me again tonight. He has been badgering me to look into some problems ever since we returned, but I have been putting him off. He is very insistent that I do something before I leave again.”

“Oh.”

“I am sorry. I shall get through it as quickly as I can. But I feel guilty. I should have stopped in to see him several days ago. I just—didn’t want to take the time.”

Cassandra smiled. “I understand. I can hardly expect you to spend all your time on me and my concerns.”

“They are my concerns, as well,” he reminded her. “Besides, I find spending time with you much more enjoyable.”

They stood for a moment looking at each other. Cassandra felt a little weak in the knees, and she knew that it was not a smart idea to be out here with Philip in the garden, the moon lighting everything romantically and the air heady with the perfume of the roses.

“I—I should go back in.”

“I should, too.”

Yet neither of them moved.

“You are so beautiful,” Philip said softly.

Cassandra smiled shakily. “I fear the moon must have affected your reason. I have never been considered more than passable.”

“Passable!” He reached up and brushed his thumb lightly across her forehead. “You have a high, smooth brow.” He drew a finger down the straight line of her nose. “A patrician nose.” He brought up his other hand and traced her brows and cheekbones. “The loveliest, most intelligent, laughing eyes I have ever seen. How could this be accounted merely passable?”

Cassandra could scarcely breathe, the light touch of his fingers on her face affected her so. “You are a minority, sir.”

“Indeed?” He arched a brow sardonically. “Ah, but I am arrogant enough to believe that my opinion is the only one that matters.”

Cassandra’s lips curved up into a smile.

“And your mouth…” he said huskily, continuing his inventory. Cupping her face in his hands, he traced the line of her lips with his thumbs. Heat stirred in her abdomen at his touch. His eyes darkened with desire.

“You have the most kissable lips.” He bent and touched his lips to hers, matching his words with action. It was the merest whisper of a kiss, a breath, no more, yet fire flared inside Cassandra.

She went up on her tiptoes, her arms curling around his neck, and pressed her lips more firmly against his. Philip let out a groan, and his arms wrapped around her like iron, pulling her up and into him as he kissed her thoroughly.

Heat surged through them like a wild spark igniting dry timber, consuming all thoughts of caution or temperance. They strained together, their bodies aching for the union their mouths shared. Cassandra’s fingers twined through Philip’s hair. His hands stroked up and down her back and pressed her hips hard against his swelling manhood, rubbing her against him.

Finally he broke their kiss and stared down into her face. Every thought in his brain, every fiber in his body, was focused on making love to Cassandra. It took every shred of reason left in him to keep from pulling her down to the ground right there and taking her. He glanced around and his gaze fell on the gazebo at the end of the lower garden beside the pond.

“Come.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist and started down the steps toward it, pulling Cassandra along with him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CASSANDRA KNEW THAT she should protest, hold back—at least hesitate. But she did not. The desire that ran wild in Philip was thrumming through her, as well, and she had no interest in being responsible or proper. The past few days of working with him, being close to him almost every minute of every day had kept the flames of her desire high. She knew that the iron control Philip had maintained around her had been a sign of his respect for her, an indication of how little he was like the rumors she had heard of him. She was pleased that he had felt that way and exhibited such behavior, but she could not really say that she had enjoyed it. Every accidental touch of their fingers, every glance, had reminded her of the delightful passion that his kisses had awakened in her, and she wanted to feel that passion again.