Lily had ripped off her mask and whirled to face him, her hands on her hips. And judging from her expression, she was clearly irked by his possessiveness.
“You cannot tell me how to behave, Lord Claybourne! You do not own me.”
Her declaration only raised Heath’s ire. He rarely lost his temper, but he could feel it turning flame-hot. “You are wrong, Lily. You are mine. And I won’t stand for you carrying on with other men like the veriest trollop.”
“Carrying on?” Her voice rose nearly an octave. “What, pray, was I doing to warrant that unfounded accusation?”
“You have been simpering and flirting with Poole since he arrived.”
She looked half astonished, half infuriated. “Because I quickly determined he was the only man here who was safe for me to be with.” Her eyes narrowed. “You cannot possibly be jealous of Lord Poole! Why, he is old enough to be my grandfather. Moreover, he isn’t the least interested in me. He spent the entire time reminiscing about Chantel’s former glory days. He is quite smitten with her-and completely harmless to me.”
“Those two leering bucks aren’t harmless. They want nothing more than to have you in their beds.”
“What if they do? You have no right to be jealous!”
In one distracted part of his mind, Heath acknowledged the novelty of the fierce emotion he was feeling. He never became jealous over a woman. Yet both Poole and his younger rivals had made him livid with it. Or rather, he was livid at the attention Lily had shown them. Her consorting had roused a primal male urge to carry her back to his lair and keep her safe from all his competition.
How had this spirited hoyden managed to do what no other woman ever had?
Lily was glaring at him as if she wanted to box his ears. “This is positively absurd. I am returning to the soiree this instant. Let me pass.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” he repeated as the air between them crackled with tension. He’d had enough of her resistance, enough of her denials. Lily didn’t want those lecherous blades, she wanted him.
Determined to prove it to her, Heath stepped forward and hauled her into his arms.
It started as a kiss of mastery and domination, with no hint of gentleness. His need was all about possession as he plundered her mouth…ruthless, relentless, his tongue thrusting with a hunger that was angry, thorough, and devastatingly passionate.
Lily felt his hunger as his strong hands pulled her even closer. Her resistance lasted another heartbeat before she gave in entirely. With a seizure of need she melted against Heath, kissing him back with ruthless abandon.
She reveled in his fierceness…yet what had started as angry and intense quickly turned hot and tender; their kiss became wild, delicious, and stunningly sensual. Lily gave a helpless whimper at the sheer power of it.
Her heart was hammering and her breath came in ragged pants when Heath finally drew back to stare at her. Desire throbbed in the air, along with a telling pulse between her thighs.
Lily’s heart pounded harder. He meant to make love to her, she could see in his eyes, in the intent expression on his face, illuminated by the pale glow of moonlight.
“I want you, Lily,” he stated, his voice a low, husky rasp. “And I know you want me.”
“Yes,” she said simply.
Sliding one hand around her nape, he stroked the base of her neck in a light, tantalizing massage before reaching up and relieving her of her turban. Making short work of the pins that held her hair up, he spread the dark mass over her shoulders.
Then his hands began to move gently over her body, exploring her with enthralling seductiveness, tracing her shape through her gown and causing Lily to shudder with longing.
“Will we leave our clothes on this time?” she asked in a breathless murmur.
Heath flashed a smile that came close to taking her breath away. “Not this time, love. I want to see and feel and taste all of you…and for you to do the same with me.”
He undressed her then, not allowing her to help. Lily was excruciatingly aware of his slow movements, the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat, the heavy pinprick of sensations in her body.
When he had dispensed with her last garments, he stood back to take in her nakedness. The expression on his face was almost reverent as his gaze caressed her. “I have imagined this countless times…how perfect your body would be, how exquisite. How it would feel to make love to you with nothing standing between us.”
She had imagined it, too, which was why she felt surprise and disappointment when Heath led her to the bed and sat her down, then left her there.
But he was only stepping back to remove his own clothing, Lily realized with gratitude, watching as he began with his coat and waistcoat. His cravat and shirt came next, before he moved on to shoes and stockings and satin knee breeches.