She sucked in a deep breath and felt her senses expand. Silas smelled different today, his familiar male scent mixed with earth and plants. The combination was heady, made her mouth water. He smelled wild and primitive, not like the man who drank tea and traded witticisms in his sister’s elegant drawing room.
She read arousal and shame in his strained features. Right now, he wanted her, and he despised himself for it. His hands tightened and his eyes focused on her lips with such searing attention, it felt like another kiss.
“You have no right to manhandle me.” She straightened and stared back at him, imperious as a queen.
“No.”
The universe of despair in that one low syllable astonished her. The blood pounding in her ears muffled rational thought, but in some dusty corner of her mind curiosity stirred. He wasn’t acting like a man in love with another woman.
“Then release me.”
Immediately she was free. She staggered and fumbled for the bench behind her. For a giddy second, she wondered if her knees would hold her up.
“Lord, Caro, forgive me,” Silas said bleakly. “I’m a barbarian.”
“Yes, you are.” And she’d had absolutely no idea. What else was hidden under his polished exterior?
“Slap me.”
“I’d love to.”
He closed his eyes and stood still as a post. She stiffened her spine and drew back her hand. Her heart beat so fast, she felt lightheaded. Outrage fed frustrated desire. She couldn’t precisely say why. It wasn’t because he’d kissed her. Perhaps it was because this whirlwind of emotion and hunger couldn’t take them anywhere, shouldn’t have brought them this far. Swirling, unsatisfied cravings had her at their mercy. She hated how the force of her love left her powerless.
“Do it,” he said through his teeth as she hesitated. His features tightened, but he made no attempt to defend himself.
Very well.
As Caroline swung toward him, the air swished under her hand. Only at the last instant did she slow the blow. Gently as a bird alighting on the grass, her palm landed flat on his cheek and curved to shape his face. That dear, dear face.
When she offered tenderness instead of violence, shock whipped his eyes open. She didn’t know who moved first, but she was crushed against him, his arms were lashed around her, and their lips collided with blind ardor.
This kiss was unlike the first. The rage had gone. The passion burned white hot. It was completely outside Caroline’s experience, for all that she’d been married ten years. This was fire and lightning, and astoundingly carnal. Open mouths joined, tongues slid and twined and danced. She’d never forget Silas’s taste as long as she lived. With shaking hands, he caught her head and held her as he plumbed every inch of her mouth. She felt devoured, seized, ravished. And she adored each moment.
Eventually when the heat between them threatened to melt her into a puddle, he wrenched away. He stared down at her, his expression tormented. She shivered with fear and excitement. She’d never in her life imagined that she could drive a man mad with lust. Yet apparently she had. However unfamiliar she was with seduction, she couldn’t mistake that he burned for her. All the time, her bewildered mind kept repeating, “But this is Silas.”
Fury flared in his eyes, turning them brilliant gold. He gripped her shoulders. “How the hell do you dare to kiss me like that, then say you’re going to West?”
Her eyes narrowed as the sensual mist swiftly receded under the force of his demand. Right now, she didn’t want to think about West or what she wanted in the future. She didn’t welcome this reminder that she’d chosen another man to be her lover. “You know, Silas, sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.”
“What the deuce does that mean?” His fingers tightened, although she had no intention of retreating.
“That means every time you speak, I end up wanting to pitch you through a window. You’d be better to stop talking.”
His tawny brows lowered and the fierce glitter in his eyes made her bristle with nerves and anticipation. “I’d like to stop you talking.”
She thought she now knew the power of his kiss, but she’d had no idea. His mouth ravaged hers and she met him each step of the way. She wasn’t backing down. He wasn’t going to get the better of her.
The kiss started as a battle with neither ready to declare a truce. Then in an explosive flash, it transformed into something more. A dark tide of pleasure rushed over Caroline, washing away all thoughts of winner and loser. The only thing that mattered was for Silas to keep kissing her. She clung to him, clawing at the soft linen of his shirt. She moaned with delight as he nipped at her lower lip, then returned to sweep his tongue into her mouth. Vaguely through the ferocious onslaught, she felt him shift. Then something crashed to the floor at her feet.
She closed her eyes as the sound echoed around her. What did she care if the world shattered as long as that eager mouth plundered hers? She’d never bitten anyone in her life, but she returned the favor, scraping her teeth across his jaw. His grunt of appreciation was muffled against the sleek cushion of her lips. She tugged and ripped at his shirt until finally she found the hot, smooth skin of his back. Her fingers dug deep into the pads of muscle lining his spine.
The falling sensation seemed part of the frenzy. Then her back bumped onto a hard surface. He leaned over her, flattening her against unforgiving and angular wood. She gasped, then gasped again when his hand landed hard and possessive on her breast. Sensation thundered through her like a thousand runaway horses. Her nipples, already aching, beaded to an agony of yearning.
Silas swore softly and bent forward to press between her spread legs, close to where she wanted him. But not close enough. He cradled her head, keeping it from knocking against the boards beneath her. Another whimper escaped her as a second crash resounded through the greenhouse.
A hard, insistent pulse throbbed in her lower belly. Only Silas could
fill this excruciating emptiness inside her. Perhaps he knew, because he pushed forward into her mound. She shuddered in reaction and cried out, bowing up to increase the delicious pressure. She thirsted for this primitive, earthy pleasure that turned her bones to honey.