Page 40 of To Pleasure a Prince

“Because this is unwise…you…and me.”

“Of course it’s unwise—what difference does that make?” His open mouth caressed her exposed shoulder, and a shiver ran through her.

“It makes a difference to me. I always try to act wisely.”Most of the time.

“I don’t. I never have.”

She smiled against his hair. “I know. You’d much rather thrash about, insulting people.”

He froze. “You mean I don’t behave as you’d like. Is that why you think it unwise for me to kiss you? And want you?”

Her heart began to pound. “You don’t really want me.”You would despise me if you knew I can’t read your precious books.“That’s why it’s unwise.”

Drawing back, he fixed her with a gaze so intensely black it seemed to swallow her up. “I suppose this is how you get all the men to grovel at your feet—by pretending not to know what you do to them.” His gaze scoured her throat and shoulders and breasts. “Because you have to know that men want you.”

Her temper flared. He was just like the rest of them. “My body, you mean. Yes, I do know that men want my body. So what does it matter if I’ve got one more to ‘grovel’ at my feet?”

Shoving him away, she whirled and headed for the door, but he caught her around the waist and dragged her roughly back against the hard wall of his chest. A shiver swept her as her bottom pressed against his muscular thighs.

“Do you expect me not to want your body?” he murmured against her ear. “Because I don’t think that’s possible. And if that’s why you’re angry…”

The hint of amusement in his tone only fired her temper further. “I’m angry because you wantonlymy body. You’ve made it clear time and again that you think me shallow and frivolous, so you couldn’t possibly want me for my good temper or my common sense or my character.”

“If I wanted only your body,” he growled, “I wouldn’t be here, putting up with your sharp tongue. I can purchase a complacent beauty in any high-priced brothel in London.”

She stiffened. “If you think such a crude statement will do for an apology—”

“I’m not apologizing. I won’t apologize for wanting any part of you. I know I’m crude and uncivilized and not fit to kiss your hand. I just don’t care.”

He splayed his hand over her belly, bunching the satin as he fit her more firmly in the shelter of his chest and waist and thighs, every inch of him as rigid and unyielding as his words. She ought to fight him. She ought to dig her fingernails into his arm, kick back at his shin…do anything to make him let go of her. She shouldn’t even listen to his words.

Because they affected her. And because even though he was crude and uncivilized and all those things she thought she hated…she didn’t mind it in him. Oh, what perversity was that?

He pressed his lips to her ear, then went on in a voice tinged with anger. “Do you think I like desiring the sister of the very man I despise? A woman who only tolerates my kisses because she needs an adventure to liven her life?”

“That’s not true,” she whispered.

“Isn’t it? I’ve gone over and over it in my head, and I can think of no other reason for your letting me hold you. Or do this.” He scattered kisses along her jaw. “And this.” He sucked her neck, an action she found oddly sensuous. “And even this…” His hand slid up to cover her breast.

She was so shocked at first she couldn’t speak. No man had ever dared or even attempted…Did he think she would allow…

She reached for his hand, but then it began to move beneath her fingers, slowly, carnally, fondling her through her gown as if she were some…some…

Doxy.

Her head fell back against his chest. Oh, Lord, perhaps he was right; perhaps she did want adventure. Or perhaps she’d just gone so long without letting any man near her that she was tired of holding men at arm’s length.

No, not all men. Just him. He was the only one she wanted close. But why? Because he was outside of society? Or because she’d simply lost her mind?

“If it’s adventure you want, dearling,” he murmured, “I’m happy to oblige.”

“No…I mean…I don’t know why I let you…do this to me.”

“I’m not complaining.” He nipped at her earlobe, which sent an erotic thrill humming along her flesh. “I’m only praying I don’t wake up too soon.”

“You’re not asleep.” Or else she was, too.

“I might be. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamed of you.” Still holding her with her backside pressed into his groin, he drew her farther behind the curtains into the blackest depths of the box.