His gaze on her face, Jack laughed and, reaching up, drew her down to lie among the cushions beside him. Sophie hesitated, then yielded to his gentle strength. Propped on one elbow, Jack smiled down into her wide eyes. Then he bent his head and kissed her, long and lingeringly, before whispering against her lips, “I’m not teasing, Sophie.”
A thrill of desire raced through Sophie, all the way down to her toes. She opened her lips on a feeble protest—and Jack kissed her again. And kept kissing her until she had no breath left to speak.
“No, Sophie.” Jack dropped soft kisses on her eyelids as his fingers deftly unbuttoned her gown. “I’ve had more than enough of wooing you, my love. You’re mine, and I’m yours. And nothing else matters.” His voice deepened at the last as he looked down at her breast, the firm ivory flesh filling his palm.
Sophie arched lightly as his thumb circled the rosy peak. Unable to speak, barely able to breathe, she watched him from beneath heavy lids as he caressed her. Then he lowered his head and she stopped breathing altogether, her fingers sinking into his shoulders as his tongue lightly teased, knowingly tantalized.
“Besides,” Jack murmured against her soft skin. “We’ve only one thing left to discuss.”
“Discuss?” The word came out weakly on a slow exhalation, the best Sophie could manage, her mind struggling against the drugging haze of his caresses.
“Hmm. We have to discuss what I’ll accept as suitable recompense for my torture.”
“Torture?” Sophie knew about torture. She was being tortured now, his hands touching her so skilfully she was gripped by an urgent longing. “What torture?”
“The torture of having to woo you, sweet Sophie.”
Sophie stirred, consumed by the sweetest ache. “Was it torture?”
“Torture and worse,” Jack vowed, his voice deep and raspy.
Sophie sighed. “What do you consider suitable recompense?” She just managed to get the words out before he stole her breath again with a caress so artful she thought she could faint. She didn’t, but the sensations didn’t stop, darting through her like lightning, spreading like warm fire beneath her skin.
Aeons filled with pleasure seemed to have passed before she heard his soft murmur.
“I know what I want as my reward for wooing you. Will you give it me?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a soft whisper on the breeze.
Jack raised his head, a smile twisting his lips. “I haven’t yet told you what I want.”
; Sophie returned his smile with one of her own. “It had better be me—for that’s all I have to give you.”
For the first time in his rakish career, Jack was lost for words. He looked down into her eyes, passion-filled and mysterious. “Sophie.” His voice was hoarse, dark with his turbulent passions. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”
“Then take me,” Sophie murmured, wondering, very distantly, how she dared. She reached up and drew his lips to hers before her sane self could resurface and disturb the glorious moment.
Thereafter, her sanity or otherwise was not in question; desire caught her and held her until she glowed with its flame. Jack fed her fires, never letting her cool, until she ached for him to join her. When he did, it was as if the sun shone brightly out of the night-dark sky. Sophie surrendered to joy and delight and rapturous, delirious pleasure. For one timeless moment, she felt that she had flown so high she could touch the stars gleaming in the firmament. Then she softly drifted back to earth, safe, forever, in Jack’s strong arms.
The gentle rocking of the boat, and Jack’s heavy weight, drew her slowly back to reality.
Surprisingly, Sophie found her mind oddly clear, as if the sensations that had held her body in thrall had proved so overpowering that her wits had disengaged and retreated to a safe distance. She could feel the cool caress of the river breeze on her naked skin and her lover’s touch as, propped now beside her, he gently stroked her hair from her face. She opened her eyes and looked up. He was a dark shadow as he hung over her, solid and comforting in the moonlight. Sophie listened for the shush of the water under the hull—and made a discovery. “We’re not moving.”
Jack’s smile gleamed in the moonlight. “We’re moored. Off a private park. The men left us nearly an hour ago.” He reached up to spread out her curling hair, released from its moorings. “They’ll come back later and take us home. My carriage will be waiting at the steps.”
Sophie blinked. “You really did think of everything.”
His smile grew broader. “I always aim to please.” He shifted slightly, drawing her more comfortably into his arms and tucking a silk shawl tenderly about her. “And now that I’ve pleased you, how soon can we be wed?”
Still slightly dazed, Sophie stared up at him, marshalling her wandering wits.
“Not that I’m trying to rush you, my love, but there are any number of reasons why an early, if not immediate, wedding would suit us best.”
As he turned her hand over to press a kiss into her palm, and the touch of his lips stirred the embers that were only now dying within her, Sophie abruptly nodded. “I see your point.” She stopped to clear her throat, amazed she could think at all. “My father’s due back for a quick visit next month—can we wait until then?”
Jack raised his head to look down at her. “It might be hard.” He smiled, his usual crooked smile. “But I suspect we can wait until then.”