Sara's eyes narrowed as his words triggered a flash of insight. "This has nothing to do with me, does it? It is about Charles. I thought you were his friend, but I was wrong. You hate him," she said softly. "Every time you and I have been alone, you have made some oblique remark against Charles. Because I would not listen, you have invented this parcel of lies. It will not work, and I will not stay here to listen to you slander an honest man." She stood and walked toward the door, but she had to pass Peregrine to do so.
He blocked her path and caught her by the upper arms, his clasp light but implacable. "Yes, I hate him, but that does not mean that I am lying." His eyes blazed like green fire. "Weldon is corrupt to the depths of his black soul. He is the prince of hypocrites, infinitely dangerous because he pretends virtue while performing the most despicable deeds."
Sara's belief in her betrothed faltered briefly under the force of the Kafir's conviction. Then she shook her head. "Charles has been a friend of my father's for a dozen years. Why should I believe your unsupported word against him?"
"When I am a foreigner, and he is an English gentleman? Indeed, why should you believe me?" His voice dropped, became rich with intimacy. "Don't you know the answer to that, Sara?"
His grip loosened as his hands skimmed down her arms in a sensual caress, then went around her waist. When he bent to Sara's upturned face, she tried to pull away, but he would not release her. "Believe me, Sara," he said huskily. "I am many things, most of them bad, but in this I tell the truth. Charles Weldon is evil."
She shivered as his lips touched a sensitive spot below her ear, then made a leisurely journey down her throat. "Weldon delights in destroying innocence," he murmured, the subtle touch of his breath another caress. "I won't let you become another of his victims."
As he kissed the juncture of throat and shoulder, his forefinger traced the curve of her ear. Sara gasped as melting sensations flowed and shifted deep inside her. How was he able to evoke such a reaction when she had not known herself capable of feeling it? From the beginning she had been aware of his mesmerizing allure, but never had it been this shatteringly strong. She felt immersed in a river of fire that dissolved her will, leaving her helpless.
"Stop doing that," she said weakly, wanting to push him away but unable to summon any resistance.
His embrace tightened, pulling her against the hard length of his body. As he stroked and shaped her back and hips, igniting wants and wishes, he said, "You wish me to stop? All you have to say is that you don't desire me."
"I—I can't say that I don't want you, but don't think that you will change my mind with kisses when words didn't work." Without conscious volition, she reached up and slid her hands around his neck. Her fingers brushed under his silky black hair before linking over the taut, masculine muscles. "And you can confuse me, but I will never be so confused that I will forget that I promised fidelity to another man."
"I know that, sweet Sara, and I value your maddening, incorruptible sense of honor," he said, his voice as soothing as his hands were not. "But though I cannot seduce you, for a few moments I want to hold you close, no matter what you believe, no matter what the future brings."
His words unleashed a rush of longing, doubt, and confusion, somewhere between dream and nightmare. The sin was in wanting one man when she was pledged to another, but she could not deny her desire. So if the sin was already committed, why not continue doing what she so much wanted for just a little while longer? Knowing that the house was full of people would keep her from losing what remnants of sanity and morality she still had. "I know this is wrong," she whispered, her eyes clouding with desire and despair, "but for just a moment more, because there can never be another time..."
Decision made, Sara stood on tiptoe so her mouth would reach his, and kissed him with the fierceness that he had taught her. Her eyes closed, and her hands tightened convulsively on his shoulders at the first touch of tongues.
Peregrine had guessed at her potential for passion, but even so he was startled by her intensity. As his own desire flared out of control, he forgot why he had brought her here and what would happen soon, forgot everything but her yielding body and painful honesty. He had not been so aroused since he was a lustful boy. Ah, God, she was sweet, with all the dangerous fire of innocence. And dangerous Sara certainly was, for she dimmed his sense of mission.
The thought helped restore his control. Breaking the kiss, he guided Sara's pliant body back to the sofa and lowered her onto the leather as waves of amber silk spilled around her. Then he lay on his side next to her, their bodies meeting in a full-length embrace, one of his knees between hers.