Anthology - Three Weddings and a Kiss by Kathleen E Woodiwiss Catherine Anderson Loretta Chase Lisa Kleypas

Author:Kathleen E Woodiwiss, Catherine Anderson, Loretta Chase, Lisa Kleypas
Format: epub

This was most unprofessional, Gwendolyn scolded herself as she flung her arms round her husband’s neck.

It was well known that excitement of the passions exacerbated sick headaches.

Unfortunately, nowhere in the medical literature had she encountered a remedy for cases in which the physician’s passions were excited. She did not know what antidote to apply when the patient’s lightest touch triggered severe palpitations of the heart and a shockingly swift rise in temperature to fever point. She did not know what palliative could alleviate the coaxing pressure of a wickedly sensual mouth upon hers, or what elixir could counteract the devil’s brew she tasted when her patient’s tongue stole in to coil with hers.

She was aware of water lapping at her shoulders and her gown billowing up to the surface in the most brazen manner, but she could not retrieve sufficient clinical objectivity to do anything about it.

She was preoccupied with every slippery, naked inch of him, hard and warm under her hands, and she couldn’t keep her hands from moving over his powerful shoulders and the taut, smooth planes of his broad chest. It wasn’t quite enough. She could not resist the need to taste the smooth, water-slick skin. She eased away from his enslaving mouth and traced his wet jaw and neck with her lips while her hands continued to explore his splendid anatomy.

“Oh, the deltoid muscle…and pectoralis major,” she murmured dizzily. “So…beautifully…developed.”

She was aware of the increased urgency and boldness of his touch, and she knew her brazen behavior incited him. But his caresses were inciting her.

She felt the weight of his hands upon her breasts, a warm pressure that made her ache and push into his hand, seeking more. The sensuous mouth upon her neck simmered kisses whose heat bubbled under her skin and made her quiver with impatience. His wicked tongue teased her ear…maddening.

Above the water’s plashing, she heard the low animal sound he made when she shivered uncontrollably and burrowed into him, as though she could crawl into his skin. She wanted to.

She could not get close enough. The water…her clothes…everything between them…obstacles.

“Do something,” she gasped, fumbling with her gown. She tugged at the bodice, but the soaked fabric wouldn’t tear. “Get it off,” she told him. “I can’t bear it.”

She felt his fingers struggling at her back with the tapes. “They’re too wet,” she said feverishly. “You can’t untie them. Rip it.”

“Wait. Calm down.” His voice was thick.

She dragged her hand down to his belly.

He sucked in his breath. “Gwendolyn, for God’s sake—”

“Hurry.”

“Wait.” He closed his mouth over hers and swept her lunatic rage away in an endless, soul-draining kiss.

She clung to him, her mouth locked with his while he swung her into his arms and up, out of the bath and onto the damp towels.

When he broke the drugging kiss at last, she opened her eyes to a burning gold gaze. He knelt over her, straddling her hips. His skin was slick, shimmering in the candlelight. Water streamed from his long, night-black hair.

While she watched, spellbound, he brought his hand to the neckline of her soaked gown.

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