Page 77 of Outrageous

“Quit ordering me about; you’re not my husband and certainly not the master of me. Indeed, I’m beginning to rethink this entire rush to the border.” She paused and then blurted, “Why did you even come back here?” She wanted to howl the instant the humiliating question flew past her lips.

“What are you wittering on about?” He loomed over her, fisted hands on his hips, his thin, mobile lips twisted into a scowl. Eva saw the exact moment when he understood what she meant. Vile, odious, teasing, hateful creature that he was, he smirked. “Ah, so that’s what’s got you in a twist, is it? A visit from the green monster.”

She flung back the blanket and surged to her feet, sick of looking up at him. “I’m sorry, my lord, I know men of your sort are accustomed to behaving like dogs in rut, but perhaps you could curtail your lust when I am trapped in the same building—nay, the same room—with you.”

“What is my sort, exactly?”

Once again it was not the question she was expecting and Eva experienced such a welter of conflicting thoughts and emotions she thought the top of her head might pop off.

The only thought she could latch on to was one that was swimming inside her skull like a circling shark. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “I don’t think you do, darling.”

“Don’t call me that. And I don’t care what you think.”

“I think you’re lying.” His voice had dropped so low it was like the skitter of dry leaves across cobbles. Even in this light she could see his pupils flare.

She sucked in a noisy breath and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Well I’m not.”

Good Lord! Could I sound any more like a fatuous, nervous schoolroom chit?

He nodded his head with menacing slowness. “Yes. I believe I could very easily prove you wrong.” The tips of his fingers ghosted over her jaw, which appeared to have a direct connection to her lungs and female parts. His touch also amplified the pounding of her heart, so that she could hear it in her ears, a distinct thud, swish, thud, swish, her blood being pumped throughout her body with an enthusiasm that left her dizzy. Rather than pull away, as her brain was directing, her traitorous body leaned closer.

“That’s a good girl.” His lips brushed over hers, far softer than the kisses they’d had earlier, and her body swayed toward him as her mind revolted at being called a good girl.

Oh, but he smelled of shaving soap and salty male skin and brandy and his scent overpowered her, just as his big body could overpower hers.

“Eva.” He whispered the word with a caress of warm air that made her shiver. And then his warm lips settled on the thin skin below her ear and he trailed hot kisses down her throat, nuzzling his nose into the plain tucker she still wore around her neck.

She’d been too furious to undress and had just kicked off her shoes. Besides, it had been her plan to go sleep in the coffee parlor on the settee rather than share a room with him.

So much for that.

Her head fell back limply, like a flower on a stem too weak to support it. She felt a hot breath on her collarbone, and then a tug. She blinked her heavy eyelids to find him holding her fichu between smiling lips. He let it flutter to the floor and claimed her with his mouth.

Eva met him, standing on her toes, her hands sliding around his neck and tangling in his hair as their lips met, not violently or gently, but as if they belonged together.

He grunted softly, the sound one of approval. This kiss was even better than the one earlier today, and part of her mind wondered if it got better every time, an unimaginable idea.

His big hands slid around her waist and gently kneaded. When his mouth went wandering, she once again let her head fall back, drinking in the sensation of his skilled, hot touch on her skin.

Eva realized he’d unbuttoned her dress only when his calloused fingers pushed it from her shoulders, along with the loose chemise beneath.

“No stays, I approve.” The words vibrated through her body as he spoke them directly over her heart, his clever hands divesting her of dress and chemise in one smooth shove past her hips. His hands ran up her naked sides and he shuddered violently. “My God, you feel good.”

His words, more than anything he’d said or done to her thus far, rocked her to her core and she launched herself at him.

His entire body stiffened and he gasped in what sounded like pain, but then his hands slid beneath her bottom and he lifted her with a groan and carried her to the bed, laying her out across it.

His temples and brow were beaded with sweat, the swelling around his eye darkly bruised.

Eva throbbed as he studied her. She was fully aware how her legs and arms were sprawled before him but didn’t care. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, his hand pulling at his sash, his eyes roving over her with a hungry desperation that made her feel desirable and reckless.

“Good.”

He chuckled and shrugged out of the robe with a hiss, his nightshirt obscenely tented. “You really are a little witch, aren’t you?”