Regency Improprieties. Diane Gaston

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СКАЧАТЬ difficulty breathing, he was so near. She dared not lift her chin to look into his eyes, because she wanted so dearly for his eyes to burn with the same desire raging inside her.

      But she could not help herself. She tilted her head back. His eyes were dark with passion. The joy of it caused her knees to go weak. All she need do was close the distance between them and place her lips on his. What harm to taste his lips just once? Everyone expected her to be a wanton, why not behave like one now? She longed to be the wanton with Flynn.

      ‘Flynn,’ she whispered.

      Rising on tiptoe, she touched her lips to his, lightly at first. When he did not move away, she slid her arms around his neck and increased the pressure. His lips parted, and she darted her tongue into his mouth where he tasted warm and wet and wonderful.

      A low groan escaped him, and as she felt his breath cool her mouth, she grasped him tighter. His arms encircled her and he slammed his body against hers, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh. All sensation raced to where he ground himself against her, urging her on, thrilling her with the feel of his manhood hard beneath his clothes.

      He wanted her, it meant. She was glad she’d learned about what was happening to him. And to her.

      ‘Flynn,’ she repeated, this time with urgency.

      One of his hands slid around her body to her breast, rubbing and fondling until Rose thought she would cry out with the pleasure of it.

      He unclasped her cloak and let it slide to the ground. Picking her up in his strong arms, he carried her to the chaise. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his neck, anywhere she could reach.

      ‘Make love to me, Flynn,’ she begged.

      He placed her gently on the chaise and positioned his body over hers. He bent towards her, closer and closer, and she thought she would burst from need of him.

      Suddenly he broke away, so abruptly she looked to see if someone had pulled him off her, but there was no one there.

      ‘You are bewitching me,’ he rasped, grabbing her cloak from the floor. This time he merely tossed it to her and walked over to pick up his greatcoat and hat. ‘I will take you back to the gazebo.’

      Outside it rained harder than before. The Dark Walk was darker and more deserted than ever now that the hour had advanced and clouds hid the moon. She could barely see where she was going, and she nearly slipped on the slick path trying to keep up with him.

      She reached for him, grabbing his arm. ‘Flynn! Stop.’

      He stopped, but did not look at her. ‘Rose, this attempt to seduce me was a mistake, do you understand? It must never happen again.’

      ‘Seduce you?’ she cried, ‘You seemed willing enough, Flynn. Do not make the fault all mine.’

      He turned to her. ‘I will not betray Tanner.’ Even in the darkness she could see his eyes flash at her. She took a step toward him, but he backed away. ‘No, Rose.’

      She lifted her trembling chin. ‘You’ve already betrayed him, have you not, Flynn? By wanting me? You cannot be telling me you do not want me, because I know you do.’

      ‘Wanting and taking are not the same thing,’ he said through gritted teeth.

      He started walking again. As she hurried to stay with him, he stopped again, so abruptly she nearly collided with him.

      He whirled on her. ‘What I do not understand is why you behave like a loose woman with me, but act as if bedding a marquess would be the worst torture in the world.’

      ‘A loose woman!’ she cried. ‘Is that what you think of me?’

      He did not appear to hear her. ‘Do not tell me you merely want more money, because you do not behave as if you want any money at all. If you wanted another man, it would make sense, but why throw yourself at me—’

      ‘I did not throw myself at you!’ She swung her hand to slap his face.

      He caught her by the wrist.

      ‘You were the one who chose the Dark Walk, Flynn, who brought me into that room. You chose that private place, and you dare accuse me of being the seductress?’ She tried to twist away, the hood of her cape falling from her head.

      He grabbed her other wrist and struggled with her, losing his hat and pulling her closer and closer until her body was flush against his and their faces were only a hair’s breadth away, the need burning in his eyes.

      ‘How do you explain this, Flynn?’ Her voice shook. ‘I am not throwing myself at you now, am I?’

      He did not release her right away, but held her, his breath rapid, his flesh so hot it seared her senses. Then he released her and ran a ragged hand through his hair.

      Rain battered their uncovered heads and streamed down their faces. Slowly, however, the flames of their anger and passion fizzled in the damp air, as if turning to ashes. To gloom.

      Rose whispered to him, her words competing with the rain. ‘What are we to do, Flynn?’

      He did not answer, but his eyes shone an intense blue in the dim light, and the rain curled his usually neatly combed hair. He looked boyish. Vulnerable. He reached for her hand.

      ‘We left our gloves back in that room,’ he said, rubbing his bare thumb against her palm.

      ‘Oh.’ Rose closed her eyes at the exquisite feel of his touch ‘.I must retrieve mine. I have no other pair.’

      He nodded and they started back, trudging through the puddles forming in the gravel of the walk. When they reached the small structure, he entered it alone and came out with both pairs of gloves.

      They walked back in silence, Rose holding his arm.

      ‘‘Tis odd the orchestra is not playing,’ Rose said as they neared the gazebo. The paths were deserted. The supper boxes empty. ‘Everyone has left.’

      They hurried to the gazebo door. Inside the servant was sweeping the floor.

      His broom stilled when he saw her. ‘Miss O’Keefe, your father told me to tell you to ask the gentleman to escort you home, for Mr Hook told everyone to go home because of the rain and so your father did.’

      Rose nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr Skewes.’

      The thin wiry man grinned. ‘He said as long as it was the fellow that was here before—’ he nodded to Flynn ‘—he’d not worry about you and neither was I to worry.’

      ‘You are kind,’ she said. ‘We had better be off, then.’

      She and Flynn walked back out into the rain.

      There were a few other stragglers walking to where the hackney coaches waited beyond the gate. Rose’s cloak felt heavy from the soaking rain, and she shivered.

      ‘You are cold.’ Flynn started to unbutton his greatcoat.

      ‘No.’ She put up a hand. ‘Your coat is as soaked as mine. I will be fine once we are in the carriage.’

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