Tonight or Never (12 page)

A spark of wood popped in the fireplace, breaking the spell they were under. They both spoke at once.

"I need to—"

"Do you—"

They both stopped.

Chloe laced her fingers together in an attempt to stop their shaking. "What, John?" she asked breathlessly.

He rubbed the back of his neck under the fall of his hair.

For an instant Chloe wondered what it would feel like if it were her hand doing the rubbing. She wanted to feel his hair just like that, let the strands slide through her fingers slowly. She wanted to kiss him in tiny nibbles around his hairline at the back of his neck. She wanted to bury her face in that clean hair that always had the scent of clover.

"… so you see, it's just that I feel, that is…"

Chloe blinked. What was John saying? She had been so caught up in her fantasy that she had missed his last words.

"The thing is, Chloe, I think we should
proceed
with this slowly. You have to admit this all happened rather quickly and we haven't had time to…"

Oh, my God; John is having second thoughts
! This wouldn't do at all! What if he decided it was a mistake to agree to the bargain and wanted an annulment?
Mon
Dieu
, everything would have been for nothing!

Chloe panicked. She couldn't lose John, not after all of this! The course of her next action became crystal clear. There could be no waiting.

It was tonight or never!

Before she could stop herself, she launched herself at the unsuspecting viscount. Caught by surprise, John had no choice but to catch her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed his face between her small, determined hands.

For the first time in her life, Chloe pressed her lips against John's and kissed him for all she was worth.

John's mouth parted slightly in shock; his dazzling green eyes blinked in astonishment.

At first nothing happened.

Then it happened.

Like a volcano erupting, molten heat spread through his system, fired down through his arms, up his legs, straight to his groin. The overpowering sensation almost rocked him off his feet.

Of their own accord, his arms came around her like a vise and, without conscious
thought,
he kissed her back with every ounce of passion he possessed.

Which was a considerable amount.

Pressed against him, Chloe moaned against his fiery onslaught. The adversary appeared to be engaged. She tried to prepare herself for the sensual battle that was sure to follow.

He was hot, wild, and intense. The real John, she acknowledged to herself, exulting in her victory. His burning kisses made her almost mindless.

He tasted of everything she had imagined and so much more. The full impact of the Viscount Sexton was more than she bargained for!

Despite his earlier ruminations and firm decision about waiting, John could not seem to stop himself. The instant his mouth claimed hers, he knew this was going to be different. He felt it, tasted it,
breathed
it down to the core of his being.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized he was behaving in a way completely foreign to his usual nature. He was not the conquering-hero type—he was more the artful seducer.
Sophisticated, with a genuine flair for finesse.

However, it was not the voice of the accomplished rake that rasped hoarsely, "
I can't wait to make you mine"
in the little shell ear next to his marauding lips.

Nor was it the
voice
of a shy, naive girl who shivered and uttered back, "Yes, yes…" while breathlessly capturing his mouth again with her own.

Chloe's enthusiasm—more than a match for his own raging hunger—propelled John across the room toward the bed.

In fact, John was so overcome by the experience of having Chloe in his arms that he didn't even realize how unpolished her kisses were. He only knew that her artless response was sending him over the edge, interpreting her bearing as being caused by her own overwhelming excitement, which apparently matched his own.

In the course of all this, the tip of her sweet tongue began to tease at his mouth. John actually trembled.
Oh, Chloe
…

She tasted of the single most compelling thing that would ever appease his longing.

He groaned, drawing her inside his mouth even as he drew her down onto the bed.

From that moment on the viscount was lost to rational thought.

Which was a very good thing—considering what was about to happen to him.

While John was recklessly kissing her and unbuttoning the placket of her night rail with the expert touch garnered from his countless experiences in doing such tasks with ladies' garments, Chloe valiantly tried to maintain her sensibility.

In the wake of such a gale, it was not an easy task.

True, she had wanted John in such a state, had even dreamed of it on many an occasion, but somehow the reality was far different. For one thing, she never realized how… how… un-controlled he could become; for another, she never thought he would immediately make her the same.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to find her resolve. It was of the utmost importance that she did not lose herself here; she must—had to—remain in control or all would be lost.

His scorching lips burned a trail down the side of her throat. Against her will, a small sound of pleasure escaped her lips. The utterance seemed to incite him further.

Perhaps if she ignited him still further, he would hurry even more.

Yes. That would be best. It was her only hope. She needed to make him as wild as she could while still maintaining her own restraint.

Her gaze went reassuringly to the nightstand beside the bed, where the porcelain pitcher had been strategically placed. It waited patiently, a sword of
Damacles
for the unsuspecting viscount.

Chloe bit her lip. She hoped
Grandmere
would forgive her; it was one of her favorite pieces.

Her concerns were interrupted as John's white teeth captured her earlobe with a sexy little tug. The action caused tingles to skirt down her neck and shoulder.

This was proving much more difficult than she had imagined! What if he swept her away with his lovemaking? Chloe closed her eyes and swallowed.

That she could not allow. Not this first time.

Thinking to speed him up, Chloe thrashed beneath him, untying the knot on the sash of his robe. It soon came undone and she tugged the garment off his shoulders, tossing it onto the floor next to the bed.

When her hands encountered the bare expanse of his backside, Chloe realized she was right. John hadn't worn anything underneath.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she tried to peer over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the treasures she had uncovered. She had never seen a naked man before, and rumor had it that John was exceptionally well endowed
everywhere
.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the chance, for, with her bold act, the man gave a low growl of desire deep in his throat, then immediately yanked her night rail right over her head, coming down upon her full-length.

The touch of all that Sexton skin was enough to give her pause. The touch of the flat of his hands skimming down her body was enough to leave her breathless.

This is John
.
Touching her.
Loving her.

She gasped out his name on a wave of longing.

"Chloe… Chloe…" he panted brokenly, his hot breath fanning her.

His powerful thighs wedged tight between her own, and she felt something hard and scorching pressing against her lower belly. The tips of his fingers scored her back, and she knew she would not be able to take much more without surrendering herself completely to the sensual web he seemed determined to weave about her.

Irrationally, his considerate lovemaking was irritating her. As if she needed any more incentive!

She was actually shaking with her desire and cursed the fact that she couldn't let herself enjoy it more. God knew after what the scoundrel had put her through, she deserved a little enjoyment!

But that would have to come later.

Rogues—she sighed—must be dealt with very delicately, lest they champ at the bit. She purposely rubbed against him, giving what she deemed an appropriate sound for the circumstances.

John paused for a second to give her a puzzled look, his disheveled golden hair falling across his forehead in an altogether enticing picture.

Hmm.
Perhaps I did sound a tad like a yipping pup
. She quickly lowered the tone and tried again.

It worked. He answered her with his own gravelly moan, his mouth instantly covering her own.

Despite her feelings for John, her desire, and her resolve, when John began to probe her feminine core gently with the tip of his erection, Chloe had a moment of fear. Sheer determination held it at bay.
Barely.

He must go through with this now, she kept telling herself, trying not to give in to her terror.
Now.
Now
!

"Now!" she blurted out loud.

In her inexperience, Chloe had no way of knowing that John was simply testing the waters and was actually planning on a much lengthier bout of
loveplay
. Hearing her fevered outcry, however, served to excite that notion right out of his head.

"Yes," he rasped, "yes, sweet, now…"

He reared back in preparation for his thrust forward.

Chloe's hand went around the handle of the pitcher.

He spoke her name, pupils dilated with passion.
And stroked
.

Three things happened at once. Chloe screamed; John froze, stunned; A vase crashed over his head.

Chloe watched him expectantly. The lovely green eyes focused intently on her just before they began to slowly cross.

"You—" was all he got out before he fell on top of her, unconscious.

Zounds, he is heavy!

Pushing him with all her might, she managed to roll the rake half-off her, allowing her to scramble out from beneath him.

Clutching the bedpost for support, she took two deep breaths to calm her fraying nerves. There wouldn't be much time… the first thing she had to do was clean herself up, then see to the shards of pottery.

She quickly went about her task, gulping down the faint wave of dizziness that assailed her when she spotted the blood on her thighs.
That done, she checked the bed for any signs of the doomed pitcher.

Satisfied she had found all the pieces, Chloe began to sift through John's hair, making sure to fluff it up as best she could. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the nugget that had sprung up on the back of his head.

By the time he woke up, she would be sleeping beside him as if everything were normal. John would think he had fallen asleep after they had finished and have no clear memory of what had transpired just before he was whacked with the vase. Everything would be exactly the way…

Chloe sat on the edge of the bed, her hand on her forehead. Perhaps she should have thought this one out a little more. What if he remembered?
Nonsense.
A few kisses, a few cuddles, and he would—

Two lethal emerald eyes pierced her in their sights.

Chloe gasped. How could he be awake already? He wasn't supposed to be awake yet!

She had seen that look on John once before; she had been ten years old and had put itching powder in every pair of breeches he owned.
Damnation
, he had been in
a lather
over that one.

Once he had caught her—climbing right up a tree after her to do it—she hadn't been able to sit for two days.

By the look of him, he was more furious with her now.

A strong hand reached across the bed to grab her wrist.

Chloe screamed and bolted off the bed.

Naked, hair streaming behind her, she raced through the bedchamber into the sitting room, straight for the door.

Throwing the heavy oak door open, she bolted out, fleeing as fast as she could down the east wing.

"
Chloeee
!"
John roared down the hall.

It was not one of those times when one stopped to think over the situation.
Mon
Dieu
, the man sounded like a raging bull! She would talk to him after he calmed down.

Which, by the sound of his bellow, would be in about three or four months.

Chloe never expected John to come after her. Her first clue that he was not far behind was the slapping of his bare feet on the parquet floor as he resolutely chased her.

Her second clue was the screech of the upstairs maid, who happened to round the corner at the same time with a stack of linens. She was confronted with the new master of the house running buck naked down the hall, bellowing his wife's name.