Silk and Shadows(43)

Her eyes widened as she guessed where his story was leading. "You found one of the lost cities?"

He nodded again. "Yes, a city called Katak by a Kirghiz herder who told me a tale that had been passed from father to son for many generations. Katak lies amid the salt marshes of Lop Nor. Finding it was hard, locating its lost riches harder yet, but the greatest dangers lay in taking the treasure away across the sands and mountains."

"I gather that you did not fear the demons?" She shifted position, unconsciously drawing a little nearer to him.

"They were not the demons of my people, and hence had no power over me." Peregrine's gaze drifted, remembering. "Luckily I was also able to convince my friends of that. We made three journeys from Kafiristan to the lost city of Katak, each time bringing back gold, silver, and works of art. As the leader, mine was the largest share, and that became the basis of my fortune. I came down from the mountains into India and learned the ways of the merchant, investing and trading until I had great wealth even in European terms."

Lady Sara's head was tilted to one side, her expression dreamy with imagination. "A fascinating and romantic tale."

"Only in retrospect," he said dryly. "At the time it was exhausting work and appalling discomfort, punctuated by occasional spells of heart-stopping danger.

"Ross has said the same thing about his travels. Real adventurers like you and him must think drawing-room romantics like me are rather silly." A trace of wistfulness showed. "Listening to travelers' tales is the closest I shall ever come to such exploits."

"There are people who want only to be titillated or confirmed in their prejudices. I do not waste my time on them. But I would never think you silly, for you listen with your spirit as well as your ears." He gave her a conspiratorial, self-mocking smile. "Don't tell others how I made my fortune, though. I prefer to be mysterious."

"You are very good at that," she said with demure mischief.

Peregrine caught her gaze with his. The tension of pain was gone, and Lady Sara was rapt and receptive. The time had come to woo her. He concentrated with all the strength of his will, using his power to attract, spinning an invisible net to draw her to him. Her lips parted, uncertain, expectant, as she felt the increasing force between them.

"What drives you, Mikahl?" she asked softly, using his name for the first time. "What makes you different from the rest of your people? Why have you mastered so many skills, why have you crossed the world to come to this small, damp island where most men are too narrow to appreciate all you have achieved?"

"Ever since I was a child, I have known that my destiny lies in England." It was the truth, though not a truth Lady Sara was in a position to interpret. More than that he would not, could not, reveal. Continuing with another half-truth, he said, "Perhaps you are part of the reason I am here."

He raised one hand and traced the elegant bones of her cheek and jaw with his fingertips. She stared at him, her lips parted and great eyes helpless with question and longing. Moving closer, he gave her the lightest of kisses, touching only her face, feathering across her forehead and the fragile skin around her eyes until their lips met.

At first it was a still, gentle kiss like the one they had shared at the ball. Then he opened his mouth and instinctively she mirrored his movement. Though a small shock of surprise ran through her as the kiss deepened, she did not withdraw. Instead she responded with innocent, questing enthusiasm.

Peregrine had thought that his desire was safely banked, but the taste of her tentative, yearning mouth made passion flare with white heat, needy and demanding. If Sara had been a woman of experience, he would have stopped at nothing to sweep her along with him into a fast, furious, heedless mating.

But she was not experienced, and he retained just enough control to refrain from doing what might frighten her. Wrapping his arms around her slim waist, he drew her close, needing to feel her body against his. Sara came willingly, her restless hands sliding under his coat, her mouth as hungry as his.

He leaned back against the wall, drawing her along so that she lay half-sprawled across him, breast to breast, her thighs bracketing one of his in a simulation of lovemaking that made him want more. Cradling the soft curves of her buttocks, he pulled her tight against his groin. Her hips pulsed against him, and he responded with frustrated pleasure, mentally cursing the layers of heavy fabric between them.

Over the years, Peregrine had survived and prospered by learning to seize what fortune offered, and now he discarded his earlier plan of limiting what happened today. Sara might be inexperienced, but she was a woman grown, well past the age of consent. Teaching her the joys of the flesh would not only be deeply pleasurable, but would serve his larger goals as well.