A Most Dangerous Profession(43)



“You pretended many things back then, but not that.”

Her lips curved in a smile. “I found the physical aspects quite pleasing. I recall very clearly that you were very well”—her gaze flickered over him—“equipped for the part.”

He almost grinned in return. Almost.

But for Moira, it was enough. She’d always felt a deep rapport with him, and that same understanding settled around them now, familiar, yet this time more fraught with tension.

There was so much between them, so much history and so much hurt, that though they could find moments of peace and agreement, a shadow still lurked overhead. Moira finished combing her hair, wishing things were easier somehow.

Robert’s chair creaked as he stood. “If we’re to become partners in this, then I have a requirement of you.” He came to stand beside her, and she was instantly aware of her lack of clothing and of the warmth emanating from him. He always seemed to simmer, his skin always warm, his gaze flickering from cool to hot with nothing more than a touch.

And oh, how she’d loved to touch him, to run her hands over his broad bare shoulders, the hard planes of his chest and stomach, and farther. The feeling was so powerful that she had to clear her throat before she could ask, “What requirement is that?”

“If we do this together, then I am the one who makes the final decisions. An army with two generals is bound to fail.”

Right now, if he would only touch her, and ease the ache that was growing inside her with every second he stood so close, she would have agreed to anything . . .

Except that. “When I can, I’ll do so, but—”

He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “No ‘buts.’ Shall we seal our pact with a kiss?”

She saw the heat in his eyes, felt the hardness of his body. Though her mind said to resist, her body ignored the warning. She lifted on her toes to press her mouth to his.

That was all it took—the touch of his lips set her aflame, unable and unwilling to pull back. She wanted this, wanted him, needed to feel him. She’d been alone so long, struggling against so much, that it was heaven to just feel.

The second Moira’s lips touched his, Robert decided to have her then and there. He’d wanted this since he’d found her naked in a copper tub by the fire. Feeling her soft curves now, running his hands over her, he regretted that he’d waited so long.

He untied her chemise without breaking their kiss, pulling back to tug it over her head, her hair spilling back to her shoulders in a swath of silken strands. She was so beautiful that it almost hurt to see her.

She undid the button on his waistcoat and tugged his shirttail from his trousers.

“Hold, ma chère.” He sat down and tugged off his boots, then stood.

She had his jacket off his shoulders in an instant. Laughing softly, he yanked off his cravat and sent it sailing. The rest of his clothes soon followed.

Now naked, Robert slipped an arm about Moira’s waist and fell back upon the bed, taking her with him. He captured her lips and kissed her with abandon, delighting in her rapid breathing, flushed skin, and passion-darkened eyes. God, he loved being with a woman who enjoyed lovemaking. They had been apart for too long, and the fire between them burned too hotly for anything less than an explosive consummation.

She wriggled on him and murmured against his ear, “You feel so good.”

“As do you.” His hands roamed from her shoulders, down her back, to her waist, and then lower, cupping her against him.

She needed no more encouragement. She opened her legs, and he gasped at the intensity of the feeling as she slowly engulfed his turgid cock. She planted her hands on the mattress on either side of his head and moved urgently up and down, hot and slick.

Robert grabbed her waist, trying to slow her down. He wouldn’t last much longer if she continued so. He lifted his hips slowly, and then planted himself deeply inside her.

She threw her head back with a gasp. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she cried his name, succumbing to deep shudders of pleasure.

Sweat beaded Robert’s forehead as he struggled for control, aching for release. When Moira slumped against him, he rolled atop of her, never breaking contact. Her legs locked behind the small of his back, and Robert began to move inside her, his gaze locked on her face. Her eyes were closed, ecstasy written on her lovely features as she moved with him, rocking her hips up to meet his thrusts. Her creamy skin was flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. Every delicious inch of her belonged to him.

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