He jerked his stare back to her eyes, his brows drawn tightly together. “You want that? To be taken here in the wood, like a harlot?”
She flinched. The word stung. Yes, however unwilling, she’d been a whore. Yet to hear that ugly word on his lips, directed at her—
Leave. Just leave and pretend none of this ever happened.
His gaze trailed down over her body.
Wait.
His lips parted slightly and his features sharpened into an expression of pure hunger.
No. He hadn’t meant it. It was bluster. He was defensive, deflecting blame. He was close to giving in. Power surged through her once more. She purposely relaxed her face and curved her lips into a smile. “Oh no, never a harlot. I am a creature of the wood. A nymph.”
She laughed, turning away to resume her dance.
He locked an iron arm around her waist and he pulled her backwards. Roughly. Anticipation tingled through her like a thousand stinging bees. She opened her mouth to cry out but her back made contact with his body. A body as rock hard as she’d ever imagined.
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.
He pressed his pelvis into her buttocks, and, even through the fabric of his breeches, his erection felt hot and huge.
It felt divine.
Unable to stop herself, she wriggled against him, revelling in the evidence of his arousal.
He growled low, the sound vibrating over her neck. Gooseflesh prickled down her spine. His large hand splayed over her belly. “So the quarry wants to be taken?”
Through the thin fabric, he brushed his fingertips over her stomach in a circular pattern. Not clumsy or rough, but gentle, sensitive teasing. A beguilement.
She moaned, still helplessly writhing against his straining heat. She had dreamt of this too many times, yet it was nothing like she’d dreamt. He was nothing like she had dreamt. She trembled and closed her eyes, surrendering.
He stopped and put her from him. Firmly. Decisively.
She swayed on her feet. What had happened? Shaking with the shock of loss, she spun to see him walking towards the path in the wood that led back to his property.
God, he was leaving.
Leaving.
Chapter Two
“Thomas—”
Rosalind’s voice carried to Thomas. He’d never heard his given name spoken by her. It made him stop. It made him long to turn.
He resisted.
He must not yield to this sin. Just a fortnight and he would be removed from it. Movement caught his eye. Her shadow, lengthened and distorted, wavered on the ground. She was pulling her shift up, inch by inch, swaying her hips as she did so.
God. No power on earth could have stopped him from turning. Not even his will. Maybe a lightning bolt could save him.
No bolts came.
He turned. Her ivory thighs were bare. She pulled the shift higher. He sucked in his breath and held it as she revealed the bright red triangle of hair between her legs. A renewed surge of heat boiled through his blood.
Moonlight shone on the soft swell of her stomach and her broad hips, threw a shadow that accentuated the sharp, nipped-in tuck of her long waist. Her breasts were large, full yet youthfully high and firm.
He should not keep looking at her. He should leave now. He should—
She pulled the shift over her head and cast it aside.
He couldn’t have torn his eyes away to save his soul.
She tossed her head of lush red curls then smiled and held out her arms. “Thomas, come, come.”
She backed away, disappearing into the thick shade of the maple. He followed her. The warm darkness swallowed them.
“Thomas…”
She reached up to touch his face as he approached. Her fingertips seemed to singe him. He grasped her by the waist and jerked her body to his.
She tilted her face up, her eyes wide, her mouth falling open. Moonlight filtering through the branches made a lattice pattern on her face and neck. Her eyelids fluttered shut.
He bent his head and put his mouth to hers. The touch of her softness sent a spark through his blood. Hunger. Greed. They pressed on him without mercy. He tightened his hold on her waist and slanted his lips over hers, sucking from her all he could take.
She made a sound, deep in her throat, and pushed against his chest.
He lifted his head and took a deep breath, pausing for control.
She stared back with a touch of fear.
He took another deep breath, willing his passions to ebb to a manageable level. He released her waist, then cupped her face and let his thumbs slide over her skin.
God, she was soft, supple, succulent. He longed to taste her but would she allow it? It had been years since he had kissed anyone with an open mouth. Patience had not liked it. He hadn’t thought the loss of that particular pleasure had mattered much but suddenly he craved the sensation. He leant forward, then traced his tongue along the seam of those luscious lips.