Devil in Spring

Bringing his lips closer to her exposed ear, Gabriel spoke very softly. “You dazzle me, Pandora. Every beautiful, fascinating, kinetic molecule of you. The night we met, I felt you like an electric shock. Something about you calls to the devil in me. I want to take you to bed for days at a time. I want to worship every inch of you while the minutes smolder like moths that dance too close to the flame. I want to feel your hands on me, to—what is it, sweet?” He paused as he heard her indistinguishable muttering.

Pandora flipped onto her back, looking disgruntled. “I said you’re talking into my bad ear. I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

Gabriel regarded her blankly, then dropped his head with a smothered laugh. “I’m sorry. I should have noticed.” He took a steadying breath. “Perhaps it’s just as well. I’ve thought of another way to make my point.” He levered himself up from the sofa cushions and brought Pandora with him. Sliding his arms beneath her slim body, he lifted her easily.

“What are you doing?” she asked, floundering.

For answer, he settled her deliberately onto his lap.

Pandora frowned and squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t see why you—”

Suddenly her eyes widened, and she went very still. A rapid sequence of expressions crossed her face: astonishment, curiosity, mortification . . . and the awareness of a robust male erection beneath her.

“And you said men weren’t obvious,” Gabriel mocked gently. As she wriggled to adjust her position, it sent exquisite pulses of feeling through his groin and belly. He steeled himself to endure the sensation, breathlessly aware that it wouldn’t take much more than this to send him rocketing to climax. “Darling, would you mind . . . not moving . . . quite so much?”

Pandora gave him an indignant glance. “Have you ever tried sitting on a cricket bat?”

Biting back a grin, Gabriel moved most of her weight to one of his thighs. “Here, lean against my chest, and put your . . . yes, like that.” When he’d settled her more comfortably, he loosened the belt of her robe. “You look overheated,” he said. “Let me help you off with this.”

Pandora was undeceived by his solicitous tone. “If I’m overheated,” she told him, pulling her arms from the sleeves, “it’s because you’ve embarrassed me.” With a severe glance, she added, “On purpose.”

“I was only trying to make it clear how much I desire you.”

“It’s clear now.” She was pink and flustered.

Gabriel tugged the robe out from beneath her and tossed it aside, leaving her clad only in the muslin nightdress. He tried to remember the last time one of his sexual partners had been shy. He couldn’t recall what it was like to feel embarrassed during intimacy, and he was charmed out of his wits by Pandora’s modesty. It made something familiar seem entirely new.

“Didn’t your sister explain what happens to a man’s body when he’s aroused?” he asked.

“Yes, but she didn’t tell me it could happen in the parlor, of all places.”

His lips curved. “I’m afraid it can happen anywhere. The parlor, the drawing room, a carriage . . . or a summer house.”

Looking scandalized, Pandora asked, “Then you think this is what Dolly and Mr. Hayhurst were doing in the summer house?”

“There’s no doubt.” He began to unfasten the top buttons of her nightgown, and kissed the newly revealed skin of her throat.

Pandora, however, hadn’t yet finished with the subject of the summer house rendezvous. “But Mr. Hayhurst wouldn’t have returned to the ballroom with a . . . a protrusion like that. How do you deflate it?”

“I usually distract myself by thinking about the latest analysis of foreign securities on the stock exchange. That usually takes care of the problem right away. If that fails, I picture the Queen.”

“Really? I wonder what Prince Albert used to think about? It couldn’t have been the Queen—they had nine children together.” As Pandora continued to chatter, Gabriel spread the sides of the nightgown open and kissed the tender valley between her breasts. Her fingers fidgeted at the back of his neck. “Do you suppose it was something like educational reform? Or Parliamentary procedure, or—”

“Shhh.” He found the tracery of a blue vein in the alabaster glow of her skin, and touched it with his tongue. “I want to talk about how beautiful you are. About how you smell like white flowers and open windows and spring rain. About how soft and sweet you are . . . so sweet . . .” His mouth wandered over the gentle curve of her breast, and Pandora jerked, her breath stopping. A rush of excitement flooded him as he sensed her awakening pleasure. His lips traversed her chest in a pattern of lightly grazing touches. Reaching the pink bud of a nipple, he parted his lips and drew it into the hot interior of his mouth. He circled and teased with the tip of his tongue until the peak was textured and velvety.

His mind was swimming with thoughts of the endless ways he wanted to take her, the desires he longed to satisfy. It took all his self-control to caress her slowly, deliberately, when he wanted to devour her. But everything was new to her, every intimacy unnerving, and he would be patient if it killed him. As he licked and tugged gently, he heard a frayed whimper in her throat. She touched his shoulders and chest hesitantly, as if she didn’t know where to put her hands.

Lifting his head, he found her lips and possessed them hungrily. “Pandora,” he said when the kiss broke, “you can touch me any way you’d like. You can do anything that pleases you.”