He was young and strong and a most magnificent specimen of masculine perfection. And she couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like unclothed.
Her cheeks flamed at her indecent thoughts.
“Garrett,” she started, and he smiled when she said his name. The sight of his smile made her skin tingle everywhere. “My lord, I need to ask you a question.”
Blast it, she was losing her nerve, and she wanted to smack herself. All alone, far from the mansion where the ball continued on, they were in the dark, in the garden with the moon shining upon them. It was the perfect time to tell him.
So why did she have to go and say such a thing?
“A question? You sound so serious, Julia. Perhaps we can discuss it later.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, warm and damp and lingering on her skin, and she melted. Clutched the lapels of his jacket so tight she would surely wrinkle the fabric.
She found she didn’t care. If she let go, she would slither to the ground.
“But I want—” she sucked in a sharp breath when he kissed her cheek, her jawline, dropped a kiss on her ear, “—I want to ask you now. It’s important.”
“Mmm, i
s it more important than this? I’ve wanted to be with you for months. I believe you’ve wanted it too.”
He cupped her chin with his strong, elegant fingers, tilting her face up so their lips were almost aligned. His breath feathered across her face, smelling of brandy, and she breathed deep. Her mind whirled at his revelation. He’d wanted to be with her for months? She hadn’t a clue. Oh, she’d sensed the attraction between them but had firmly believed it was wishful thinking on her part.
Perhaps she’d been wrong…
Anticipation curled through her, and she wanted to savor this moment. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him so badly she could hardly think.
“Will you kiss me, Lady Renwick? Julia?”
Her lips parted, she was ready to answer, and he swooped in, taking advantage.
And heaven help her, she let him.
She tasted sweet, just as he’d known she would. They’d been playing a game for months. He’d watched her, plotting when to make his move, hoping she would be agreeable. Her flirtatious glances from across the room implied she would. The witty banter they shared while standing around the punchbowl at some boring function had started to become agonizing foreplay, torture he sought out just so he could speak to her. Even if the words were meaningless comments about the weather, they were better than nothing. At least he got to hear her lilting, sweet voice, watch the movement of her lips, spy a fleeting glimpse of her tongue.
It was madness. He never took this long in his pursuit of a lady. She made him feel damned unsure, which he found strange. But the way she looked at him stirred his blood, especially below the waist.
Lady Renwick intrigued him. She’d always intrigued him, and though he should be on the hunt for a potential wife, he found that none of the other ladies interested him whatsoever.
Not like she did.
He had her in his arms, her curvy body molded to his, her mouth locked with his. He slipped his tongue between her lips and tasted the moist cavern of her mouth. Her tongue met his in a flickering dance, a moan sounded low in her throat and he knew without a doubt it would be good between them.
He could tell, all because of a simple kiss.
“What did you want to discuss?” he asked once he broke the kiss, sliding his mouth lower to nibble and lick the slim column of her fragrant neck.
“Uh…” She slid her hands up and down his chest and bent her head to the side to allow him better access.
“Julia.” He lifted his mouth from her neck and stared into her eyes. Beautiful, dark brown eyes that looked a little stunned, a lot dazed. He touched her, cupped her cheek, stroking her baby-soft skin. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”
Her lids fluttered when he traced her mouth with the tip of his index finger. Her lips were lush and swollen from their kiss, damp and hot and silky, and he dipped his finger between them. At the wet swipe of her tongue, his cock jerked in reaction.
Damnable tight trousers, they strangled his cock.
She tilted her head back, releasing his finger from her mouth, and he dropped his hand. The wind rustled the leaves of the giant tree above them, the gust of air cooling his fiery skin as he studied her. Marveled at the way the moon’s gentle light cast along her cheeks, her long, thick lashes creating shadows on her skin.
Lovely. She was a dark-haired, dark-eyed angel tempting him to sin. If he had his way, he’d escort her to her town house, where they could be alone. Slowly undress her, kiss her bared skin until she was gloriously naked. He would take his time, for surely that was what she wanted, what she needed.
She’d mourned her stodgy husband for far too long. She had to be lonely. She needed a right and proper fucking, and he was just the one to deliver it.