Page 61 of In the Prince's Bed

“I did.” He cupped her head in his hands. “It’s Portuguese.”

As he lowered his mouth, her breath quickened. “What does it mean?”

“Enchanter,” he said in a husky whisper. “It means ‘enchanter.’ ”

Then he sealed her lips with his.

She rose to his kiss without protest. He was a cavalry officer, and she was the reckless Senhora Encantador, who wore daringly cut costumes and kissed a man in front of everybody.

Besides, who could resist a man who called her “the enchanter” even though he professed to hate poetry? Especially when he commanded her mouth as if the kiss were his due. Over and over he plundered her lips, first tenderly, then ardently, fiercely, until she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but slide her arms about his waist to pull him closer.

The taste of pears mingled with the scent of horses and leather to fill her senses. Not even the muted sounds of the performers milling beyond the door could dampen her excitement.

When at last Alec drew back, she was too dazed to notice him reaching for her mask again. “I want to see your face, sweetheart,” he murmured as he tossed the mask onto a nearby table heaped high with bonnets, combs, and other feminine paraphernalia. “Though I must admit I like you as Senhora Encantador. And even better as Mrs. Black.”

“Don’t let Mama hear you say that,” she said, trying for nonchalance. “It’s Lady Iversley or nothing.”

The intensity of his gaze made her heart flip over. “Then Lady Iversley it is.”

When he bent his head toward her once more, she pressed him back, determined to get some answers. “Do you mean that?”

“Why won’t you believe me?”

Her pulse thundered in time to the horses’ hooves outside as the company rode into the arena. “Why did you say a week ago that this courtship was only for Sydney’s benefit?”

“You were ready to toss me out on my ear again, and I couldn’t figure out any other way to stay close to you.” His eyes shone like blue flames. “Why do you think I came to London in the first place? To find a wife. Believe me, from the night we met, it was marriage I wanted.”

“You wanted to seduce me,” she breathed, though she grew less certain of that by the moment.

He smiled. “I wanted both. Because I can’t keep my hands off you.” To prove it, he slid his hands back to tangle them in her scandalously undone hair.

A wanton heat settled low in her belly. “Y-You should go. I have to dress. Mama will wonder what is taking us so long back here.”

He bent his head to kiss a path down her neck. “We’ll tell her we decided to watch the finale from behind the scenes.” He nipped her earlobe. “Come now, where’s Senhora Encantador, the shameless woman with the beautiful hair?”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Mama calls it my ‘unfortunate hair.’ And Sydney thinks it’s so bold I should cover it up with a turban.”

“Don’t you dare.” As he stroked her unruly locks, the raw need burning in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’ve wanted to see it down like this ever since we first met. I’ve wanted to touch it, to run my fingers through it…”

When he did just that, a shiver of pleasure coursed through her. Wrapping a hank of it around his hand, he kissed it, then tugged it to draw her close so he could press a slow, sweet kiss to her mouth.

Then he shifted his lips to her cheek and entangled both his hands in her hair to hold her fast. “The only unfortunate thing about your hair is that you have to keep it pinned up.” He trailed warm, openmouthed kisses over her cheek to her ear. “Once we’re married, you can wear it down as much as you please.”

“I haven’t agreed to marry you yet, you know,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t really…know you.”

“You know me well enough.” He laved her ear with his tongue.

She shivered deliciously. “Until tonight, I didn’t know you at all.” She drew back to stare at him. “Why did you let me think you were so wicked?”

His hungry gaze bored into her. “As I recall, I tried to tell you otherwise. You refused to believe me.” A rakish grin crossed his lips. “Besides, Iamwicked. At least when it comes to you.”

He slid his hand beneath the edge of her bodice and chemise to caress her bare shoulder, then added in a whisper, “And you’re wicked, too, when it comes to me…Senhora Encantador.” Her pulse went positively mad as he trailed kisses over her neck.

“Senhora Encantador…disappeared when you removed…her mask,” she choked out.