She backed until her shoulders met the panels; reaching behind her she clamped her fingers about the doorknob.
He halted with less than a foot between them. Looked down at her, and sighed.
Then he ducked his head and kissed her.
Witless.
She hadn’t expected such a direct attack, hadn’t been braced mentally or physically for it. With consummate mastery he swept her wits away, sent them tumbling, spinning; he captured her senses and held them in his palm.
While he reached around her and with both hands tried to pry her fingers from the doorknob.
That she’d expected; she’d locked them tight.
Charles inwardly cursed. He couldn’t break her grip, not without exerting force and very likely hurting her. Not something he could contemplate.
And the kiss…it was so tempting to simply fall headfirst into it.
He moved into her, ratcheting the intensity up several notches, pinning her to the door…her grip on the knob only seemed to tighten, as if she were clinging to it like an anchor.
His mind started to shift focus from what he was supposed to be doing, to what he wanted to do….
It took considerable effort to lift his head and break the kiss. Yet he couldn’t seem to get his lips more than an inch from hers.
“Penny…” He nipped her lower lip, trying to focus her attention. “This is seriously unwise.”
Eyes sti
ll closed, she dragged in a breath. “I know.”
Her breasts swelled against his chest; his breathing hitched. He caught enough breath to acerbically comment, “You might have reservations over performing certain acts in daylight, but I don’t, if you recall.”
She recalled very well; a sensual shiver ran through her, sending desire spiraling through him all over again.
But at least she opened her eyes. She searched his, then sighed. “I know I can’t go visiting smugglers’ dens by daylight—I know I can’t go with you. But where are you going?”
If she accepted she couldn’t go with him…he mentally cursed. He was losing his touch; she was winning too many concessions. “Lostwithiel first, just to ask around. Then down to Tywardreath. I doubt Granville would have gone that far afield, but I’ll see if they know him down there.”
He released her hands, still locked on the doorknob, his fingers trailing the length of her bare forearms as he stepped back.
She held his gaze, then arched a brow. “See? It wasn’t that hard.”
Before he could respond, she whirled, opened the door, and walked out into the hall.
He followed, shutting the door. He caught her gaze as she faced him. “Behave yourself while I’m gone—go ask Mrs. Slattery for more of Mama’s recipes.”
That earned him a glittering, tight-lipped smile.
He grinned, reached out with one finger and traced her cheek. “I’ll be back for dinner.”
Penny watched him walk off, arrogantly assured, heading for the stables. Her lips eased into a genuine smile. Now she knew where he was going, she could make sure their paths didn’t cross.
After an early luncheon, she rode into Fowey, left her mare at the Pelican Inn, and once again descended to the harbor. After checking that the fishing fleet was indeed out, she climbed the narrow lanes to Mother Gibbs’s door.
Mother Gibbs welcomed her with a cackle, and a shrewd eye for the sovereign she’d promised, but the old biddy was as good as her word; when Penny left some twenty minutes later, all they’d heard thus far and surmised of Nicholas’s interests had been confirmed.
She turned out of the narrow passageway onto the quay.
And walked into Charles. Again.