Authors: Lavinia Kent

Sarah's Surrender (Novella) (12 page)

“I do not like that men think of you in such a fashion.”

Another laugh, the sound curling about him, sending shivers running deep in his gut. “Ah, my dear captain, you do not know what to think, do you? You can become irritable at the touch of a hand and accuse me of fucking my clients, but let another man even think the thoughtâ¦”

“Do you need me to apologize again?” He did not turn to face her. He still was not sure what had come over him. Perhaps it was merely that he was weary, tired from the long journey.

“I am not sure. I would admit this is not how I pictured our next meeting occurring.”

It was his turn to sigh, to admit to his own uncertainty. “No, and I suppose that is the problem. I am afraid I rather expected you to run into my arms in joyânot to find you stroking another man.”

“You make it sound as if he were naked and I was licking him like an ice melting in the sun.”

“Do not put that image into my head. I am afraid that I do not like you touching another man at all.”

“You do understand that there is actually next to nothing between us, you and me. That we had one night of passionâand perhaps the promise of another. It would be ridiculous to think of anything more.”

“I don't thinkâ” he started. He had reacted badly, and he knew it.

She cut him off. “Yes, you do. You would have managed more than one brief note of apology for your delay if you thought there was more, regardless of circumstance.”

“So you do want another apology.”

This time her sigh was tinged with anger. “No, I simply wish us both to be clear about what this is between us. And how can you even dream that there is more when you won't even turn to look at me?”

He turned on his heels and stared down at her brilliant wig. God, he hated the thing. And yet loved it as well. There was something about seeing her all done up and dressed to please, while knowing the truth of what lay hidden beneath, that had his semi-hard cock rising to the occasion.

She tilted her head up and for a moment he was caught in her eyes, deep orbs of cobalt swirling with thought that said so much while hiding all. Her lips parted and his gaze moved to her mouth, red-painted and swollen, inviting a man to dream of all the uses he could put it to. And she knew it, blast her. There was no denying the knowledge of those eyes, that look that told a man she understood his every thought.

She took a half step forward, and his eyes dropped lower, into the deep scoop of her bodice, creamy flesh against red silk and black lace. He could see her pull in a breath, see her breasts rise, strain against the fabric. And still he had to fight the urge to bend down and bury his face between them, to inhale her scent, to push down the fabric and bare the rosy pink nipples, toâ¦

“You are looking a little more happy to see me, or at least parts of me,” she whispered in her throaty voice.

“Blast you, Ruby. You know exactly what you are doing.”

“Of course I do. Isn't it what you first noticed about me?”

“Actually I think I noticed your tits first, and then your assâunless that's what you meant.”

She smiled, her ruby lips inviting. “I suppose I meant bothâtits and personality. I am very aware of where your eyes landed on that first encounter.”

Her tongue slipped out and ran slowly from edge to edge of her full lower lip, adding shine to the brilliant red. His gaze followed, captured. Again his mind filled with images of just what he'd liked that mouth to do. He shifted his weight, resisted the urge to readjust himself.

He forced his glance back up to her eyes, saw the hidden smile there. Deliberate, so deliberate.

He let his gaze fall back to her mouth. She ran her tongue across again, pausing in the middle, then biting down slightly with pearly teeth. He was going to burst.

He looked back to her eyes. She knew just what he was thinkingâhe could see it all reflected thereâand reveled in it, both the desire and the power.

That was enough.

Reaching out, he grabbed her, pulling her tight, one hand sliding about her waist, the other tangling in her hair.

It was time to make this night all he had dreamed of.