Samantha James (15 page)

“And yet here you are, having presented yourself at my doorstep. You continue to bewitch me, Fionna. To amaze me. A perfect match, are we not?”

“Do not make light of me, Aidan.”

He regarded her with a smile that barely tipped his lips as he tugged her to her feet. “Do you
know what I think? You push me away, Fionna. With words. With those beautiful, flashing eyes of amber and gold. But you want me.” Leaning forward, he pressed a fingertip into the soft flesh of her lower lip. “Nay, do not argue. You fight it, Fionna. I feel it. I see it. And yet you are here,” he said again.

Fionna decided then and there it had been a horrendous mistake to approach him. The man simply could not be reasoned with! The only question was whether to run—or whether to remain.

She would not, she decided staunchly, be a coward.

His eyes had grown dark and smoky. A silky undertone crept into his voice. “Never tempted by any man, Fionna. Never tempted by any man…before me. Never tempted by desire. Untouched by any man…before me.” Lightly he molded the shape of her breast in his palm, his thumb traced the outline of her nipple. Bending low, his lips pressed a tiny kiss at the corner of her mouth, his breath warming her cheek as he whispered, “Are you tempted, sweet?”

Fionna slapped his hand away.

Drat the man! He was damnably—remarkably—observant. “You are perceptive, I’ll give you that, Aidan McBride. But so am I.”

“Tell me then,” he said with that same lazy little smile. “What do you see in my eyes?”

“I see a man who is tremendously self-assured, incredibly arrogant, a man who believes very little escapes his notice.”

“You evade the question, my dearest Fionna. What do you see in
my
eyes?”

Fionna was unexpectedly flustered. He had a tendency to do that; she wished she employed the same command over him! Fionna swore a silent, rather unsatisfying oath to herself. Damn that perceptive mind again!

“What do you see, love? Or perhaps, what do I see in
yours
?”

He pretended to consider, his mouth pursed, a dark brow arched high. “Ah, perhaps that you want me to kiss you.”

Fionna sizzled. “Perhaps you should look again,” she said tartly.

He snared her chin in one hand. The sudden movement caught her by surprise, but in the time between one instant and the next she screwed her eyes tightly shut. “Not much to see, eh, my lord?”

His low laugh of pleasure did strange things to her insides. Her pulse fluttered. Every nerve seemed to quiver. “You never cease to delight me, Fionna. Do you understand now why I am so enraptured?”

She opened her eyes and glowered at him. Why could she never control herself with him?

“If it’s friends you wish, then friends it is.”

Fionna eyed him dubiously. Somehow she wasn’t so convinced.

“You doubt me?”

Her mouth pursed. “You know very well I do.”

“Very well then. Must I say it aloud? I agree to your terms as laid out the other night. But I have one condition.”

The rogue, she should have known! “What condition?” she asked tautly.

“That we celebrate, dear Fionna. I propose we attend tomorrow night’s opera-ballet at the theatre…as friends, of course,” he added smoothly.

Bedamned, she had played right into his hands!

Perhaps she’d wanted to all along.

“Have you ever been to an opera-ballet?”

Fionna shook her head.

“An excellent time to experience your first then.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“The first time is the best, or so it’s said,” he said lightly. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

Alfred fetched her cloak. Aidan disdained his inquiry that a footman escort the lady home.

During the time she’d been at his home, a dense layer of mist had draped a heavy curtain over all. Fionna strained to see the way. Even the trees that filled the square were invisible. She stumbled a little. Aidan caught her elbow and brought her upright. He took her hand snug in his, delivering her safely to the back of the shop. Fionna’s heart was hammering, her pulse suddenly clamoring.
If he insisted on coming inside, would she deny him?
Could
she deny him?

Mercy, that she could even ask herself such a thing served as a warning!

“I have one request,” Aidan said with no preamble at all.

“One condition, one request. What, shall I expect a list then, my lord?”

His low, seductive laugh made her go weak in the knees.

Strong, black-gloved hands closed around her shoulders; she could feel the strength in them. Half a step closed what little distance separated them. So close were they that Fionna was forced to turn her face up to his.

His gaze settled for a breath-stealing instant on her mouth. Despite the chill, the air was suddenly heated and intense. Inside, Fionna felt intoxicated.

The devil himself couldn’t have resisted him. How could she? Yet somehow she should have.

The mist swirled, clearing a little. Fionna pretended not to see the desire banked in his expression. “What request?” she heard herself say.

“Wear that lovely green gown you wore to Alec’s party.”

Her lips parted in surprise; her breath fogged heavy in the mist. He swallowed it in the heat of his kiss.

Fionna was utterly adrift. Her lips clung help
lessly. Whatever protest—whatever she might have said—was wiped away as if it had never been. For when he kissed her…ah, when he kissed her!

Her mind never listened.

And neither did her heart.

It is as I feared.

The quill scratched madly as he wrote in his diary. He likened it to the way his lovely Fionna wrote in her novels.

Yet he’d known something was amiss. She did not walk nightly with such regularity as she usually did.

And tonight…he’d seen her with another man. He’d seen the possessive way the man’s hands came down on her shoulders.

But then the mist shifted, layer upon layer, and he could see nothing!

The man she’d been with…Had he kissed her? Had she kissed him?

A surge of such jealousy as he’d never known before pooled in every pore of his vitals, until he was consumed by a violent storm of blackness.

Little by little, it passed.

In his profession it was a necessity to keep one’s feelings—one’s emotions—hidden from others. When he thought of the times he’d longed to throw back his head and jeer at the stupid, stupid confessions he was forced to hear…

Yet still a fist coiled tight in his belly, coiled like
the serpent in the Garden of Eden. He’d cherished her from afar for much too long. They were spirits, spirits who belonged together and must remain forever one.

But the time was not yet right for him to reveal himself, he decided with a sly little smile, sitting back in his chair. He liked his game too much to end it now.

Yet she belonged to him. She was
his
prize. His and no other’s.

But perhaps a reminder was in order.

They shared a bit of small talk on the way to the opera-ballet. Once inside the theatre, Fionna’s eyes widened. Diamonds and jewels glittered everywhere, and once they were seated in the
box, she laughingly declared herself half-blind.

She stole a glance at Aidan. Only then did she realize his smile was a bit pained.

Too late she realized her mistake. Until then she’d forgotten that his vision was compromised. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, truly.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know, Fionna. I know.”

Then the music began. A busty soprano appeared, along with a tenor with a voice from heaven. But it was the dancers who held her entranced, who captured her and transported her to another place and time.

To Fionna, the music was expressive, the dancing even more so. Amazed, she watched performer after performer dance
en pointe,
then proceed to defy gravity, seeming to float through the air, then flying across the stage as the music rose to a crashing crescendo.

When it was over, Aidan handed her into his carriage.

“I vow I am in love,” she announced once they were in his carriage, snuggled deep within velvet cushions. Her eyes were still shining.

Aidan pulled a velvety blanket over her lap, for the night was bitterly cold, most probably the coldest of the season. “You enjoyed yourself then?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Fionna was practically burst
ing, her mind still full of melody and song and dancers dipping and twirling. “Did you see the Russian dancer who caught his partner seemingly in midflight?”

“The one whose costume left little to the imagination when it came to his—”

“Yes, yes!” she cried, laughing and laughing. “You read my mind. The very one!”

Aidan’s tone was wry. “You, Fionna Hawkes, are a very naughty woman.”

Fionna sighed. “Truly, Aidan, it was lovely. Thank you for asking me.”

“It was my pleasure,” he murmured.

The horses clopped along.

Aidan watched her lean back. All at once he traced her smile with the pads of his fingers. “What does this sly, secretive smile disguise?”

She cast a glance at him through her lashes. “Well, I was merely wondering if I could insert a similarly dazzling ballet into my next novel.”

“Prancing, dancing demons? Whirling, naked monsters perched on tiptoe?” He laughed as hard as she had.

“Oh, stop. Have you no vision of—”

“Frolicking demons and maidens fair? I think not!”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “I shall have to discard the idea of frisky, frolicking demons performing pirouettes beneath the light of a full moon.”

“Yes,” he affirmed, “I suspect your readers would be quite aghast.”

The carriage turned the corner. They were almost home now, But they passed hers, trotting on to stop before his.

She half-turned. “Aidan—”

“A nightcap,” he said softly. “A glass of wine to end a very perfect evening.”

It was that very smoothness that proceeded to speed her pulse to skittering.

In wild excitement.

“This is most improper.” Her heart beat high in her throat. It was but a token denial. Fionna was honest enough to recognize it for what it was.

Aidan’s low laugh sent shivers of delight over her skin, throughout her entire body. “Most improper? Fionna, it is most improper for a genteel young woman to write of rather erotic encounters between two lovers.”

“I prefer the word earthy,” she stated primly, “and I would remind you, Raven and Rowan are not lovers.”

“But I suspect they will be. Soon, I predict.”

“And what would you know about it?”

“What would I know about it? Well, love, I’ve read
Demon of Dartmoor.
At least, every installment published thus far. And like everyone else, I await the next.”

“Perhaps they will be lovers,” she said lightly, that same, secret little smile flirting at the
corners of her mouth. “Perhaps they will not.”

“What, you will not tell me? You can trust me not to reveal it. A secret between friends, remember.”

“No, I won’t tell.” She frowned at him good-naturedly. “That is half the fun. To keep everyone guessing to the end.”

“You won’t even tell
me
what happens to the demon?”

“Well, his fate is sealed. Need I say more?”

Aidan chuckled again, a sound that made her heart turn over.

In the entrance hall, he removed her gloves, her cloak, her hat. All was done with great deliberation.

Fionna’s eyes were huge. She nearly gulped. “Where is Alfred?”

“No doubt snoring in his bed.” Lean fingertips caught at hers. “Come,” he said softly.

Their footsteps echoed across the tiled, polished floor.

In the drawing room, on the table before the sofa, sat a tray with a decanter of ruby red wine and a pair of delicately stemmed glasses. At the far end sat a beveled glass vase of fragrant red roses. Fionna seated herself, while Aidan settled himself comfortably beside her.

Pouring for each of them, he handed her a glass, then leaned back with his own, turning the stem around and around. He did not drink. In
stead, there was the devil’s own gleam in his eye. “Confess, Fionna. Are you angry at me?”

Fionna tipped her head to the side. “Why, my lord, would I be angry?”

“I’ve kept you from your night’s work.”

Fionna pretended to consider. “This, my lord, is true. However, thanks to the help of a…friend, shall we say…I am learning that one should not always be a slave to one’s work.” There was an unmistakable gleam in her eyes. “One is permitted to make an allowance now and again.”

He chuckled and held a glass high. “Touché.”

There was the clinking sound of crystal. Fionna took a sip of wine. It was excellent, smooth and rich on the tongue, but her mind—to say nothing of her heart!—was running a-riot.

Had Aidan done this on purpose? A planned seduction? Should she be furious? Outraged?

Heaven above, she wasn’t.

Aidan lowered his glass. His smile faded. In that keenly perceptive way he had, it was as if he saw into each and every corner of her mind and heart.

His gaze roved her features, one by one. Very softly, he said, “Do you have any idea how very lovely you are?”

Fionna lowered her gaze to the clear ruby liquid. She couldn’t look at him as she spoke. “Aidan,” she said, her tone very low, “did you bring me here to seduce me?”

He parried her question with one of his own. “Do you want to be seduced?”

Her tongue was suddenly thick. “All I know is this”—her voice wasn’t entirely steady—“if I did want to be seduced, I…I would only want to be seduced by you.”

His eyes darkened. “You shouldn’t say things like that, sweet. Not to a man who is on the verge of discarding every ounce of good breeding instilled in him. Not to a man who holds back his desire as I have done. As I
do.
No, you shouldn’t say such things to a man who is just a hair away from giving in to such need.” A hint of a smile reappeared on his lips. “But what would you say if I told you that
I
wanted to be seduced?”

That brought her gaze back to his in a heartbeat. She swallowed. Then, God above, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

Was it possible…? She wet her lips. “Do
you
want to be seduced?” The question was little more than air.

His regard was solemn, his expression intent. “Only,” he said very quietly, “if I can be seduced by you.”

Half-dazed, Fionna watched as he set his glass aside; hers was plucked away and joined his.

“I mean it, Fionna. Tonight…
this
night…can be as much as you like. As little as you like. I’ve made no secret of my desire. No secret of what I want from you.”

Fionna wet her lips. “Yes, but—”

“Did you think I did not mean it?”

Mutely she stared at him, still a little stunned at what unfurled this instant. Somehow until now, it had never seemed real. It was like—like some imaginary scene plucked from one of her novels. Somehow she had never dared to think that it would come to pass. How could there be reason when coherent thought could barely take hold! To yield such control to another…to yield control of her heart…

It was unthinkable.

Oh, Lord, it was all she wanted.

“If that’s what you think, Fionna, you’ve much to learn. I told you once that I want you. I told you that I would have you. My desire has not waned. My determination has not faltered. If anything, it only grows stronger, for I want you more than I’ve ever desired anything—anyone—in my life.”

All the while he spoke, he toyed with her hand. Tracing the back of her hand, the outline of her thumb, swirling across the base of her wrist, testing its fragility, circling its span. Catching her knuckles, he lifted her hand between them.

She tingled everywhere. In places she’d never even known of.

He’d said there were many ways of making love. Oh, God, it was as if he was making love to her now. With only the feel of his hand against hers. If there could be such pleasure in this, what more awaited?

Fionna was trembling from head to toe.

“You hold the advantage, Fionna.
You.
The terms of surrender are yours to dictate, sweet. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Fingertips touched. Drifted. Threaded together and clung. Opened. Splaying wide, fingertip to fingertip.

Everything inside her went weak.

“Look at me, sweet.”

Her eyes strayed helplessly away, only to return. Her mind was full of doubts and fears, her body full of need and chaos and desire. It was more than she could stand. Her throat clogged tight. Speech was impossible.

“This night will be whatever you make it,” Aidan said gravely. “No more, no less. Leave now if you wish.”

There was something tugging on her heart.
He
was tugging on her heart.

Running through her mind were all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening. Everything inside her urged caution.

She shouldn’t want him the way she did. But she did. Heaven help her, she longed for him with every fiber of her body, every beat of her heart. It was dangerous to let him close. Foolish—oh, so foolish!

But she was tired of fighting him. So tired of fighting herself.

A dawning realization crept over her.

She could be with him, for now. But it could
never be more, she reminded herself. It could never be forever. She must accept that.

For to do otherwise would be foolish.

But she wanted to be his woman. His lady. His love, if only for tonight.

Leaning over, he kissed her mouth. Long, lingering, and tempting. So unbearably sweet she wanted to cry out. At last he raised his head. Waiting. His eyes were a glimmer of light.

Her lips parted. She touched his mouth, a fingertip at the center of his lower lip. “I-I think I want to stay.”

He shook his head. “It needs to be more than that, love.” The softness of his tone belied his deliberation. “I have always considered myself a patient man, but I need more than that. My decisions are not rash, and I would ask the same of you. Once your choice is made, there’s no going back. No recanting, no renouncement. I am a man, love, a man as any other, and there is only so much
this
man can take.”

There was a ragged rush of breath. Her own, she realized hazily. He was right, she thought dizzily. This was more than a treaty. This was surrender in its entirety.

And when he captured her face between his palms, she could contain it no more. She claimed her life was her own—in truth it was not. She shouldn’t want him like this, but she did.

Yet suddenly it was all so very crystal clear. She saw her emotions with such clarity, it was almost
as if she’d been blind. Everything…from the very instant she’d met Aidan, had been building to this.

This moment.

This night.

Perhaps she’d known all along.

She’d simply failed to accept it.

There was so little she did for herself, she acknowledged almost painfully. She had denied herself so much. Given up so much.

But she could do this.

Yield what he sought.

Admit to what she wanted.

One night. She wanted to be Aidan’s lady at least one night.
This
night.

It had been so magical…

And Fionna wanted more magic.

Capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger, he raised her face to his. “What do you want, Fionna?
What
do you want?”

A pulse beat almost violently at the base of her throat. His eyes were like sizzling blue fire. The burning hunger she glimpsed there made her heart thunder in her ears.

She gave a tiny shake of her head, her gaze riveted to his. “You know what I want.” Desire bled through to her voice.

Now it was Aidan who shook his head. “Tell me, sweet.”

Tears stood high and bright in her eyes. Her face was scalding hot.

Her arms crept around his neck. Slowly, ever so slowly, as if in fear. But there
was
no fear. She could never be afraid with Aidan.

“I want to stay. And—I want you to kiss me again.”

So close to him like this, the heat in his body was almost palpable. She felt it all through her. Hers was no less intense. There was no denying the passion that flared high and bright in her veins and turned her utterly boneless. She longed for him to kiss her until the world faded to oblivion, longed for it as never before.

Yet still he made no move to touch her. He had gone absolutely still, his gaze roving hers, as if he wanted to hoard her in his eyes.

Everything inside her seemed to burst, welling forth with no hope of containing it.

She buried her face against his shoulder, her face hot. “I want you, Aidan,” she said again. This time it was a helpless cry. “I want to be yours.”

A low growl erupted from his throat. “Then
be
mine.”

Fiercely, he caught her up against him, his arms like bands of iron around her back, almost crushing her. It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed. He kissed her with fiery greed, almost wild, his tongue twining around hers. He allowed no room for reticence; there was none. She returned in equal measure precisely what he demanded and reveled in it.