Tarnished Amongst the Ton by Allen Louise

Author:Allen, Louise [Allen, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Historical Romance, fullybook
ISBN: 9780263898248
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Phyllida was all soft, warm, scented femininity against him, every inhibition seemingly lost in the haze of waking from her nightmare. Her arms were around his torso, her breast heavy and rounded in his hand as he palmed it, the nipple hard beneath the thin veil of lawn.

Urgent for her touch on his naked skin, he fought his way out of his coat, ripped off his neckcloth, pulled his shirt over his head, all the time with one hand touching her, caressing her. He caught her up and felt her gasp as her hands pressed against his back, heard the soft whimper of arousal as he bent his head to bite gently along the white slope of her shoulder, into the angle of her neck, up to the alluring soft skin below her ear.

‘Ashe.’ It was a whisper.

He lifted his head and read the trouble in the darkness of her eyes, the tremble of her lip, smooth and plump, ripe for his kisses. He only had to close his eyes against hers, only had to take her in his arms and use all the expertise he had to overcome her fears and scruples and the thing was done.

Damn it. He couldn’t do it. Persuasion, not seduction. As though it was physically painful he forced his body further away from her. His hands slid down to rest on her forearms, her fingers turned up to clasp his wrists.

All his mistresses before now had been Indian and he had loved the contrast of his pale golden skin on theirs. Now the whiteness of Phyllida’s long fingers on his arms was like cream over honey and he bent to run his tongue-tip along one of them.

‘Ashe, no. I cannot. I cannot be your mistress.’ She pulled her hands back until their fingers meshed as they had in that impromptu minuet days before.

‘Why not?’ he asked, trying not to make it a demand, calming his breathing as if he was about to take aim with a bow and arrow and must be utterly still. ‘When we kiss—’

‘I want you. I am not such a hypocrite to pretend otherwise. We spoke of this, Ashe. I have not changed my mind and I thought you had understood that.’

‘I had. I do.’ Was that a lie? No, he understood her decision, but he was determined to change it. ‘When I came into this room I had no intentions other than to make certain you were safe. When I took you in my arms it was to offer comfort and then—’ he met her eyes squarely ‘—then my intentions changed. I have no excuses.’

She should make a fuss, be indignant, make him feel guilt and shame and then he would never tempt her again. ‘Yes, there are excuses. Real ones,’ Phyllida found herself saying. ‘I reacted as though I would welcome your caresses.’ She forced herself to as much honesty as she dared. ‘I did welcome them. I wanted to touch you, to kiss you. Most men would not have stopped, would have argued that I led them on.

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