My Fair Lily(50)

“I know.”

She licked her lips.

He groaned. “And you think you’re just the woman capable of civilizing me?”

She wasn’t certain, but she relished the opportunity to mold this raw being into a sophisticated man of substance, a man worthy of inheriting his grandfather’s title, a respected duke of the realm. It couldn’t be very hard to accomplish. He already had the substance. He merely lacked the air of elegance. Well, he was elegant, if one dismissed that gruff, protect-my-woman arrogance about him. Not that she would ever dismiss it. She loved that about him.

Had she thought loved?

She meant like. She liked that about him.

Love could never factor into the Ewan equation.

She wished he were not standing so close, staring at her with his smoldering, dark eyes.

“You’re eeping again. I’ll take that last eep as a yes.” His expression was even darker and more dangerous than the smolder in his eyes. “I won’t make it easy for you, Lily. I’m not some lump of clay—”

“Of course not.” Had he just read her mind? How did he do that? “You’re not lumpy at all. Quite the opposite. You’re hard and muscled. Goodness, I couldn’t get my hands around your biceps if I tried. It’s awfully warm in here. Don’t you think so?”

“No.”

“Hot, actually. May I go now?”

He nodded but didn’t move away.

She put her hands on his chest to nudge him away. A mistake. Unbidden, her hands slid up his chest and circled the nape of his neck. “What are you doing, Lily?”

“I’m not sure. I think I’m about to kiss you again.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” he said, drawing her up against his body and closing his mouth over hers before she had the chance to reconsider. His mouth felt warm, delicious. She yielded to his exquisite conquest. He felt her slight surrender and deepened his kiss.

All of her senses exploded at once, as did her bodily organs, every traitorous, last one of them, exploding again and again in volcanic turmoil as his lips explored hers with possessive urgency and his big hands roamed everywhere they shouldn’t be. Not that she was complaining. She wasn’t at all.

He cupped a hand over her breast and teased her nipple with his thumb.

“Hot, sugared crumpets,” she whispered. “What are you doing to me?”

He answered with the hot dip of his tongue between her lips, an exquisite invasion that shattered her resistance... again, not complaining. Not resisting either. No. Not a whit.

She arched into his hand, loving the feel of his fingers teasing her hardened bud against the fabric. She wanted to feel his rough fingers on her skin. “So many damned layers,” he murmured, kissing her again, his tongue parting her lips with ease, plunging deep into her mouth, soft and deep, in a rhythmic urgency that annihilated her resistance, what little she’d had to begin with. Assuming she’d ever had any desire to resist him.

Blood rushed to her head in a pounding roar. “Oh, my goodness. Ewan, please. More.”

The pounding persisted.

Ewan drew away with a slow, tortured groan. “Damn it,” he said under his breath, “someone’s at the door.” He waited for her to regain her composure, a task made impossible while he stood so close, the male heat radiating off his body and wreaking havoc with her senses. He—the villainous epitome of male perfection—stood beside her, completely unaffected, as though they hadn’t been swallowing each other’s tongues or pillaging each other’s bodies a mere moment ago.

Blessed saints and burnt crumpets. That was far too much fun to be anything but sinful.

“Open up, Lily.” She recognized Dillie’s voice on the opposite side of the door.

Still a little dazed, she reached for the knob, but Ewan stopped her. “Take a deep breath. A few deep breaths to calm yourself.”

“I hate you. You know that, don’t you?”

He grinned. A smug, dominant baboon male grin.

“I definitely hate you,” she insisted, opening the door.

“Took you long enough,” Dillie muttered. “What were you doing in there?” Then she spotted Ewan standing behind her. No doubt still grinning behind her. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m far too young and innocent. Not that I wish to remain that way, but I haven’t found my dominant baboon male yet.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why were you pounding on the door?”

“Daisy’s having her baby. Come on. We’re needed over there.”

As Dillie left, Lily turned to Ewan, not sure why she wanted another glance at him before she followed her sister out. His smile turned tender. He raised his hand to her cheek and gave it a light caress. “Go on, lass. Don’t keep her waiting.”