Page 93 of Why Do Rogues Fall in Love?

“Very much.” She glanced around their little refuge with a wistful smile. “Only I wish I could sleep here. It is so beautiful.”

“Do you see that wooden chest in the corner?”

Cordelia followed his gaze and blinked in surprise. Fashioned from the same oak as the rest of the tree house, the chest resembled something a pirate might have filled with stolen treasure. She had been so enchanted by the view that she had scarcely noticed it.

“There are blankets and cushions inside,” George continued. “We could spread them upon the floor and sleep here, if you wished. And should you find the floor too hard, you are quite welcome to sleep upon me.”

Oh, God.

A delicious weakness stole through her limbs, accompanied by a languorous ache that settled low in her belly. The very thought of spending the night curled against him, with nothing but blankets separating them from the cool evening air, sent a rush of heat through her.

“Would we not be cold?” she asked, although warmth was rapidly becoming the least of her concerns.

His eyes darkened, and the slow, wicked smile that curved his mouth made her toes curl.

“I shall keep you warm, my sweet. I promise.”

Her mouth went dry. She had no doubt he would, and the possibilities suggested by that husky promise made her heart pound.

For several moments, Cordelia could only look at him, conscious of the warmth of his arm around her waist and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. She had spent the entire evening resisting the urge to kiss him, and now, with darkness gathering around their secluded refuge, she could think of little else.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and turned toward him upon the broad, cushioned seat. Bracing one hand against his shoulder, she gathered her skirts sufficiently to move without tangling them about her legs, then carefully settled astride his thighs.

George’s hands immediately caught her waist.

His sharp intake of breath sent a thrill through her. She was suddenly, deliciously aware of the strength of his thighs beneath her, the hard breadth of his chest against her palms, and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing intimately against her.

A soft whimper threatened to escape her. Good heavens, how was it possible to want a man so desperately that merely sitting upon his lap made her feel as though she might melt?

“Woman,” he said, his voice a low, rough warning, “you have placed yourself in a very dangerous position.”

Cordelia smiled, although her pulse was racing. “Have you forgotten that it is perfectly permissible if I am the one doing the seducing?”

His fingers flexed against her waist, and the amusement in his expression gave way to a smoldering intensity that made her breath catch.

“Cori,” he murmured, her name sounding almost like a plea.

She framed his handsome face between her hands, allowing her thumbs to brush the faint roughness along his jaw.

“I want to kiss you so badly,” she confessed, her voice little more than a whisper. “I have thought of little else for hours, and I am quite certain I shall go mad if I must resist the temptation a moment longer.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and the naked hunger she saw there emboldened her.

“Then, by all means, save yourself from madness,” he murmured.

She laughed softly, but the sound dissolved into a sigh as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

George answered her kiss with an eagerness that stole what remained of her breath. His hands tightened about her waist, drawing her closer until her breasts were pressed against his chest and she could feel the powerful beat of his heart beneath her palms. His mouth moved over hers with a slow, devastating thoroughness, coaxing her lips apart before his tongue swept against hers.

Cordelia shivered, slipping her fingers into his hair and holding him closer as she returned his kiss with an abandon that would once have astonished her.

Her entire being ached with want.

He tasted faintly of wine, and the warmth of his mouth was so delicious that she wanted to linger there forever. When she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, he followed her eagerly, one hand sliding from her waist to the small of her back, holding her securely against him.

Everywhere their bodies touched, sensation seemed to blossom. Her breasts grew heavy and exquisitely sensitive beneath her gown, while a deep, insistent ache gathered between her thighs. She was acutely aware of his arousal beneath her and of the fierce answering need it awakened.

She had kissed him before, had known the astonishing pleasure of his touch, yet something about this moment felt different. Perhaps it was the tenderness he had shown her throughout the evening, or the knowledge that he had invited her into a sanctuary he had never shared with another woman.