An Affair to Remember (20 page)

He leaned forward so that his lips were but a whisper from hers. “We can be very good for each other.” His breath brushed her face, hot and possessive.

She shivered. “Can we?”

Anthony’s hands slid around her waist. “You are a very attractive woman, Thraxton. Beautiful, even.”

If she leaned forward just the tiniest bit, she’d be against his chest. To Anna’s horror, she found the thought fascinating. Engrossing. Wonderful beyond description. Agitated, she stepped back as far as his grasp allowed. “If you are doing this just to get that damned schedule out of me, then you’re wasting your time. I don’t like schedules and I don’t intend to use one.”

His lids lowered slightly and he regarded her for a long moment, his eyes shadowed by his thick lashes. “You can’t elude me forever. There’s fire between us, Anna. And you know it.”

“I’m sure Hades tempted Persephone with those exact words.”

“And look what a pleasant interlude they had.”

And an interlude would be all it was, Anna decided, her thoughts clearing miraculously. A pleasant interlude to be enjoyed, something to keep with her as she went about her business being a prim and proper governess.

Some of her feelings must have shown on her face, for in one sharp movement, he pulled her hard against his chest and kissed her. As his mouth opened over hers, all sane thought left her. Emotions swirled in a wild dance that sent ripples of hunger through her, making her move in restless abandon. In some distant recess of her mind, she recognized that Anthony Elliot was a trained specialist when it came to delivering soul-searing kisses. Kisses that stole her breath and melted her into a mindless puddle of desire. His passion ignited hers, and she returned the kiss so wantonly that he moaned her name against his lips.

Anna was a woman who loved the feel of raw silk on her bare skin. A woman who lusted after the better things in life. She dreamed of diamond and ruby necklaces, their weight decadent against her naked throat. And now she discovered even more wanton dreams—of being held in a man’s arms as he kissed her into madness and beyond.

Anthony’s mouth trailed a hot, damp line to her throat. “Anna,” he murmured against her skin. “Do you know what you taste like?”

She took a shuddering breath, her hands unconsciously twining in his hair as she offered herself to him. “What?”

He lifted his head and smiled down into her eyes, his hand cupping her face, his thumbs tracing the line of her cheeks. “Rice pudding.”

She laughed, and his smile faded, replaced by a sudden hunger. He kissed her again, fierce and passionate, as if her laughter had sparked some new response, something blazing hot and possessive.

She forgot she was a governess, forgot she was bound by propriety, forgot everything but the delicious feel of being with him.

Anna leaned into him, soaking in the heat of his hands as they slid over her shoulders, her back, her hips, molding her gown to her skin. Whispering her name, he slid a hand over her hip to her thigh, then to her bottom, where he held her tightly against him, letting her feel his response to their nearness.

She caught her breath, then tugged on his cravat, pleased when the loose knot fell free and left his neck open. The bronze strength of him shone where his corded neck muscles rose to his strong jaw. Anna traced the line of his throat, savoring his deep groan when she nipped his ear. She felt wanton and free, and it was a heady experience.

He eased her back, placing hot kisses on her forehead and feathering her lashes with his caresses. The hard edge of the desk met the backs of her thighs, and Anthony easily lifted her in one smooth motion so that she sat on the edge. He deepened his kiss, gently thrusting his tongue into her mouth in a pulsating rhythm.

Anna gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, losing herself in his strength. Anthony responded hotly to her fervor. He traced the line of her hip, down her thigh and leg. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he placed his hand on her bare ankle, lifting the caress to her calf, then her knee. His long fingers splayed over her bare skin, touching, smoothing as he pushed her skirts up with each move.

Jolts of searing exhilaration coursed through her. Anna reveled in the feelings he provoked. For the first time in over a year, the small part of her that resented being relegated to a mere governess slipped free. She pressed herself against him, inhaling his spicy male scent and letting his hands roam as they would.

His hand slid beyond the delicate skin of her knee to her thigh. There he hesitated, pulling back to look at her, a ques
tion in his dark eyes. A question Anna didn’t want to answer. She pulled his mouth back to hers as she arched against him, wanting something…more. Anthony moaned, and for an instant Anna knew she had complete power over the moment. If she closed her thighs, he would stop. But if she opened them…it was sweet madness.

She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and moved her thighs apart. It was a sweetly abandoned movement, and Anna shivered with desire, the knowledge that what they were doing was forbidden making it all the more powerful.

Anthony was lost. With every kiss, every touch, he was a welter of desire. He’d never been so close to being out of control, but then he’d never been with Anna before, either. There was something about her that awakened feelings he never knew he possessed. And now, sitting on the edge of his desk, her legs splayed in the most wanton manner, her hair falling about her shoulders, her silver eyes luminous with desire, he decided she was the most sensuous woman he’d ever met.

Fighting for control, he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. It was lemon and rose, the freshness of a spring breeze and something more exotic. The desire to experience life, to make everything about her as beautiful as she was, overwhelmed him. Anthony’s chest tightened and he took a shuddering breath. She was intoxicating and she was in his arms. All his.

Until he wed
. Every St. John principle he’d ever learned came rushing to the fore and it was with exquisite agony that he attempted to recall his traitorous body to order. He couldn’t do this. Not to himself. Not to Anna. Not unless she agreed to allow him to become her protector.

He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. “Anna, you have to—”

She kissed him. Not the tentative, feather-soft kisses of an
ingénue, but with blinding white passion. Every thought Anthony possessed was consumed in a single flame and he kissed her back, drinking from her as if he were dying of thirst.

He teased and taunted her with his tongue even as his hand went back to her exposed legs. Without breaking the kiss, he ran his fingers up her thigh and then gently parted the slit of her silk drawers. She gasped sharply when he slipped his hand inside, his fingers finding her most secret part, but Anthony did not abate. Instead he trailed his mouth down her throat and increased the pressure of his fingers.

She moaned, shifting restlessly on the edge of the desk. Gently but firmly he caressed her, capturing her mouth with his and drawing her to him. She slowly relaxed even as she became hotter, wetter with need, her hands clutching his shirt in desperate wonder.

He increased his ministrations, feeling her swell with heat. She moaned hotly, then stiffened, “Anthony!” she gasped.

He lifted his head so that he could watch her, see the flood of wonder in her pale eyes. She clutched at his shirt as she climaxed, and pressed her face against his neck. Anthony held her close as the tremor subsided, wrapping his arms tightly about her, gritting his teeth against his own burgeoning passion.

He’d never wanted a woman this badly before, and never an innocent. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against Anna’s silken hair, fighting to contain the remnants of his control. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take her on his desk. No, at their first union she would have every comfort available. Every pleasure he could think of. He was a St. John, damn it. And he would do his best to take care of Anna from this day forward.

Slowly, as Anna’s breathing returned to normal, the rag
ing heat that roared through Anthony subsided as well.

He took a last, shuddering breath, then stepped away. Anna looked up at him, her mouth kiss-swollen, her pale skin glowing with the flush of passion. God, but she was beautiful. Beautiful and innocent. Anthony realized how close he’d come to ravishing a complete innocent, and one who was his own sister’s best friend. The thoughts cooled the last remaining touch of ardor from his blood.

Anna passed a trembling hand over her eyes. Something tender welled inside Anthony and he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “You are amazing.”

A smile trembled on her lips. “No wonder men are so enamored of it,” she said in a husky voice.

Anthony chuckled. “And women, too, sweet. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She turned an adorable pink, her gaze dropping to her lap. The blush deepened to a fiery red as Anthony’s gaze followed hers. Her skirts were still rucked up about her thighs, her drawers parted to reveal the slightest hint of the dark red curls that lay hidden.

Anna made a convulsive move to yank down her skirts, but Anthony captured her hands. He pulled her from the desk and stood her on her feet. Her skirts dropped gracefully to the ground. Though modestly covered, she looked anything but normal, her mouth still red from his kisses, her hair mussed. Anthony’s body stirred at the sight and he reluctantly moved away, silently chastising himself.

Strange as it seemed, he realized the reason for his unease. He actually liked Anna Thraxton. Liked her better than any woman he could think of. She was intelligent, beautiful, capable, held fiercely to her opinions, and was loyal to a fault.

And she liked him—he could see it in her eyes, in the
way she grinned so quickly when they talked. As ludicrous as it was, Anthony had no wish to destroy the glimmer of respect he saw in her gaze. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

Watching him, Anna’s throat tightened. He might be sorry for their impetuous actions, but she wasn’t. She set her shoulders and pretended to smooth her skirts so she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. She was glad this had happened. Faint tremors of pleasure still echoed through her and her breasts felt full and tight. For the first time in over a year, she felt alive and free and…happy.

A smile quivered at her lips. Anna tried to smooth her hair back into a semblance of its usual style, knowing as she did so that it would take a handful of pins and a mirror to do it correctly. Her hands still shook and it was all she could do to replace the pins she found scattered on the desk. She stifled a giggle when Greyley made an impatient sound and tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear.

She glanced up at him and froze—it was as if he wished to devour her. His gaze was hot, possessive, a furious passion deep in the brown depths.

The silence grew and stretched. Anna cleared her throat, desperate to find a way to ease the tension. The children…yes, she would talk about them. “Since we are here, Greyley, there is one thing I wanted to ask you. Mrs. Stibbons has allowed the new maid, Lily, to assist me in the nursery.”

The change of topic did not seem to be to his liking, for he frowned. “Anna, we cannot—”

“You know Lily, don’t you?”

He was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed. “No. Who is she?”

“She is serving as lady’s maid to Lady Putney. But Lily has taken so well to the children and seems so nervous when
not in the nursery, that we thought we might hire a new lady’s maid for Lady Putney.”

“Do as you deem necessary.”

“It might make Lady Putney angry.”

“Then I shall like the plan all the more,” he replied shortly.

Anna had to fight a sudden impulse to lean over and trail her lips along that tight jaw. She wanted to taste him again, to feel his touch. Even more, she wanted him to finish what he had started. She knew from his expression what it had cost him to stop when he had.

Good heavens, but she was in a coil. She was in more danger with Greyley than she thought possible. The more she saw his attention to the children and his service to the Elliot family, the more she’d come to value him. And that was the last thing she wanted to feel for a man bent on seducing her.

Not that she minded being seduced; it was quite the opposite, in fact. But she knew the pain that would come if she were to succumb to other, more serious thoughts and feelings. If she began to believe that there was a happy-ever-after for her, a governess. And therein lay the danger.

The silence in the room grew until it felt oppressive. Anna forced a brittle smile to her lips. “Greyley, I know this is awkward. We’ll just pretend it never happened—”

She was in his arms and pinned against his chest before she could blink. “No,” he said gruffly, looking down at her with a blazing look that vanquished the pain in her heart. “We won’t pretend anything. I want you, Anna. But only if you want me, too. I just didn’t mean for us to go so far.” He glanced around the room and shook his head. “Not here, anyway. I want us to have something more special, something more permanent.”

Anna’s breath caught in her throat. “Permanent?” She hated the way the word sounded so hopeful, but Anthony didn’t seem to mind.

He looked down at her, a gleam in his eyes as he ran his hands over her back and hips, over and over again, the movement sending ripples of pleasure through her. “Yes. I have a small house not two miles from here and—”

“A house?”

“Yes. For now. Later…” He shrugged. “If you wish something more grand, I can have something built here, on Greyley lands.”

“Later?”

His jaw tightened at her expression. “Anna, I will take care of you always. I swear it.”

The brief flash of hope was incinerated by searing anger. She pushed herself away. “You—”

“Well!” came a voice from the doorway. “There you two are.”

Anna whirled to see Lady Putney standing just inside the library.
Oh no. How long has she been there
?

Lady Putney’s gaze narrowed on Anna, seeming to take in her flushed checks. “I can see that I’m interrupting something.”