“Why Crystal Cave? I don’t see any crystals.”

“Only because a cloud is obviously obscuring the sun. Run your finger over the wall.”

An odd request, but Victoria skimmed a fingertip lightly over the rough surface. He clasped her hand and brought it to her lips.

“Taste,” he said softly.

An even odder request, but with her gaze locked on his, Victoria touched her tongue to her fingertip. “Salty,” she said.

He nodded. “This cavern fills with water at high tide-something I discovered the hard way and nearly didn’t live to tell the tale. But it is like this at low tide. When the sunlight hits the accumulated dry salt crystals…”

His voice faded as a shaft of bright sunlight illuminated the cave. Victoria gasped as the dark walls suddenly shimmered with sparkling light. “It’s like being surrounded by glittering diamonds,” she said, delighted and awed by the spectacle. She again rotated in a slow circle. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s… dazzling.”

“Yes. I’d almost forgotten just how dazzling.”

She stopped turning and looked at him, then stilled when she discovered his gaze resting upon her. Her heart jumped in that ridiculous manner it seemed to whenever she found herself near him. “I suppose you and your brother and Lord Alwyck enjoyed many adventures in here.”

He shook his head. “I never told them about this place.” He leaned his shoulders against the wall and regarded her with an enigmatic expression. “I’ve never brought anyone here. Until now.”

His softly spoken words seemed to echo off the glittering walls. Leaning against the rock, a shadowy contrast to the shimmering crystals, he looked dark, a bit dangerous-very much like the rakish pirate she’d once imagined him-and very delicious. Her heart slapped against her rib cage so hard she wondered that the sound didn’t reverberate off the sparkling walls.

“I suppose I should then be flattered that you brought me here,” she said, proud of the light tone she achieved. Still, her curiosity made her ask, “Why did you?”

Nathan watched the glittering play of light shimmer over her, coating her in ribbons of sparkles, and any good intentions he may have harbored fled. She looked like a princess bathed in diamonds, her silky curls in glorious windblown disarray, her full lips glistening, tempting him like a siren’s call. Pushing off the wall, he slowly approached her. “I could offer any number of plausible reasons, such as I wished to play the polite host and thought you would enjoy it. Or, I’d a strong desire to visit the cave myself and since I couldn’t very well leave you alone on the beach, I brought you with me. And while those are true, if I offered them, I would be blaming my behavior on excuses rather than accepting the actual reason.” When only two feet separated them, he reached out and captured her hand. Her eyes widened slightly, but she made no move to stop him. Instead she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, clearly an unconscious gesture on her part, but one that shot liquid heat straight to his groin. Bloody hell, he didn’t stand much chance of being immune to her kiss when she rendered him so painfully aroused before their lips even met.

“What is the actual reason?” she whispered.

“Are you certain you want to know?” At her nod, he said, “I’m curious to know if the kiss we once shared would be as enjoyable the second time around.” He settled her hand on his chest, right above the spot where his heart thumped as if he’d run a race, then lightly clasped her waist and drew her slowly closer. When only inches separated them, he said, “Are you willing to admit you want the same thing?”

He stood perfectly still, waiting for her response, wondering if she would display the same courage she had the previous evening or if she would hide behind a false curtain of prim, maidenly reserve. She leaned into him, raised her face and whispered, “I want the same thing.”

Thank God. Nathan bludgeoned back the nearly overwhelming primitive desire to simply yank her against him and devour her and instead slowly lowered his head toward those tempting lips that had haunted countless hours. At last he would know if he’d just imagined how good that long ago kiss had been.

He lightly brushed his lips over hers, a tantalizing whisper of a touch. A breathless sound escaped her, and he feathered his lips over hers again, teasing, searching, tasting. He ran the tip of his tongue over her plump lower lip, an invitation she accepted by parting her lips. With a groan he couldn’t hold back, he drew her tightly against him and settled his mouth on hers. And instantly knew what had gone through the mind of the prince in the Cinderella tale when he’d finally found the foot that fit the glass slipper: It’s about bloody damn time.

Desire seared him with the intensity of a flash fire, and as it had the last time he’d held this woman in his arms and kissed her, he lost all sense of time and place. There was only her, the luscious taste of her silky mouth, the erotic friction of her tongue mating with his, the satin of her hair sifting through his fingers, the delicate scent of roses rising from her skin, the lush feel of her feminine curves pressing against him, the arousing sensation of her hands gliding up and down his back.

Damn it, he felt… unhinged. Desperate. In a way that would have appalled him if he’d had any control over his reaction to her. The last time he held her, he’d been very much aware that his brother and her aunt sat in the next room. But there was no one else here now…

Hauling her up against him, he stepped back until his shoulders hit the wall. With a deep groan, he spread his legs, planted his boots firmly in the sand, and drew her into the vee of his thighs.

Lost… he was totally, utterly lost. No woman had ever felt like this, tasted like this. Yet, it wasn’t simply the way she fit so perfectly in his arms or the delicious flavor of her that affected him so powerfully. It was also her ardent response to his kiss, to his touch. He doubted he’d have had a prayer of resisting her under any circumstances, but the fact that she kissed him, touched him, with a fervor equal to his own all but brought him to his knees.

She moaned and shifted restlessly against him, and his hands wandered down her back, to cup the enticing curve of her buttocks. He settled her more firmly against him then slowly rubbed himself against her. His erection jerked and he knew he stood in real danger of losing all control. Desperate to slow things down before he disgraced himself in a way he hadn’t since he was a green lad, but unable to stop this madness, he somehow found the strength to abandon the silken delights of her mouth, to trail his lips over her soft cheek, then along her jaw.

But he found no relief there, as her skin inundated his senses with the elusive hint of roses. He ran the tip of his tongue over the delicate shell of her ear, absorbing her sharp intake of breath, which melted into a husky groan when his teeth gently grazed her earlobe. He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear, and she arched her neck to afford him better access, all while her hands smoothed over his chest and shoulders. He touched his tongue to the throbbing hollow at the base of her throat, absorbing the frantic beat.

Stop… he had to stop… but every halfhearted rational thought fled when she fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his head up.

“Again,” she whispered against his mouth, not a plea, but a command filled with impatience. If he’d been capable of doing so, he would have laughed at the autocratic demand, which was the same one she’d issued him three years ago. He hadn’t denied her, or himself, then, and he’d be damned if he was capable of it now.

Their mouths melded in a lush, deep kiss, his tongue stroking in an imitation of the act his body ached to share with hers. Wild hunger, unlike anything he’d ever before experienced, roared through his veins. His hands glided up her back, then forward to cup her breasts. Her beaded nipple grazed his palm through the material of her riding costume-material that had to go. He slipped off her lace fichu, then glided his fingers over the satin swells of her full breasts. Bloody hell, she was so soft. Her warm skin quivered beneath his hands, and his fingers slid beneath the edge of her bodice.

She leaned back, breaking off their kiss. “Wh-What are you doing?” she panted against his lips.

Questions? She expected him to be able to answer questions? His fingers brushed over her nipple and he groaned.

“What are you doing?”

He had to swallow to find his voice. “Surely that is obvious.”

Shoving against his chest, she pulled out of his embrace and backed up several paces. With her chest heaving, hair mussed, bodice askew, color high, and lips moist and swollen, she looked aroused and as if she’d just left her lover’s arms. Until he looked into her eyes. Then she looked like glaring Fury about to sizzle him where he stood with a lightning bolt.

“Yes, it is obvious,” she said, her eyes spitting anger as she grabbed at her bodice. “You’re looking for your letter.”

Nine

Today’s Modern Woman will hopefully in her search for intimate fulfillment meet a gentleman who can render her aroused and weak-kneed with a mere look. While it is always delightful to find such a man, she must remain on her guard with this man at all times for he, by virtue of her strong attraction to him, wields power over her.


A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore


Nathan stared at her, nonplussed, ragged breaths puffing from between his lips for several seconds. Then he shook his head and laughed. “Well, hell. That’s actually what I should have been doing. Unfortunately it never occurred to me.”

She sent him a withering look. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that of an accomplished spy.”

“After three years of not using my spy skills, I’m afraid they’re a bit rusty. And you’re not giving your charms nearly enough credit. I never once thought of the letter.” As if I could have. Damn it, if she’d asked him to state his own name he would have been hard pressed to recall it. He sucked in a deep breath and shoved back his hair with hands that still weren’t quite steady. “However, now that you’ve brought up the subject of my note, I want it back.” He pushed away from the wall and approached her. Her eyes widened, but then she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin and stood her ground. When only two feet separated them, he reached out and gently traced the backs of his fingers against her flushed cheek.

“Please, Victoria…” Her name rolled off his tongue, and he knew that after what they’d just shared, he’d never want to address her formally again. “Give me the note. After everything I told you today, surely you can see that it’s important to me.”

She blinked, then her eyes narrowed. “Dr. Oliver-”

“Nathan. We’re rather past the formal use of titles, don’t you agree?”

“Nathan… I cannot decide if you’re sincere or trying to trick me. Spies are known to be very crafty, you know.”

“I can’t deny that I can be crafty on occasion. But in this case I’m sincere.”

She studied him for several seconds, then said, “I want to give you the note, but I insist it be done on my terms. I want to help in this search for the jewels.” Stepping away from him, she paced the narrow confines of the cave, then paused to face him. Her features remained resolute, but her eyes-those huge blue eyes that reminded him of the sea-beseeched him. “Nathan, I’ve been cosseted and coddled my entire life, but ultimately always dismissed as nothing more than a decorative piece. I am simultaneously admired and ignored. Men hear me when I speak, but they do not listen to me. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is? I’ve nearly always managed to suppress these feelings, but lately…”

She blew out a long breath and her bravado seemed to wilt. “Lately, I’ve experienced an unprecedented, unsettling sense of discontent that urges me to stop accepting things that I do not like. Things I think are unfair. And these feelings came to a head with the discovery of my father’s secret occupation. For years he lived an adventurous life while I was lied to and relegated to an existence that was as exciting as watching a blob of paint dry.” Her chin dropped and she looked at the ground. “Until you brought me to this cave, the most exciting moment of my life was when you kissed me in the gallery.”

That admission, whispered so softly, slammed into him with the force of a blow to the chest. He touched his fingers beneath her chin, urging it gently up until their gazes met. To his alarm and dismay, her eyes shimmered with moisture. “You’re not going to cry are you?”