A Taste of Desire(42)
Never could she have been more wrong.
Then her hands were sifting through the golden locks of his hair, silky and thick between her fingers. Uncertain what she should do with her tongue, so bewildered by the torrents of pleasure coursing through her body, she’d been content to receive his passionate ministrations. Now she wanted to participate just as fully. She began with tentative probes, then wide sweeping forays of his mouth. Before long, their tongues tangled in wet demand, the kiss feeding a hunger of which she hadn’t known herself capable.
Heat consumed her everywhere. She clenched her thighs, but the action failed to alleviate the ache in the place she burned the hottest. His hand trailed from her hip to the underside of her breast until he palmed the pebbled mound over her bodice.
That was what it took to bring her back to reality with a jarring thud. Appalled, she wrenched herself from his embrace, staggering back until she achieved enough distance from him to begin to gain control of her senses.
“Don’t,” she said weakly, her breaths ragged puffs of air. Dislodged from the security of the pins, her hair streamed past her shoulders and down her back. She imagined she looked the very picture of “the lady who doth protest too much.” She knew she felt it.
Contrarily, except for a faint blush staining his cheeks, the viscount appeared unaffected by their embrace, undoubtedly accustomed not only to kissing women senseless but to doing a great deal more. What they had shared was probably as commonplace to him as a peck on the cheek.
“Who’d have thought such heat existed under all that ice?” He adjusted his jacket as he spoke.
“Never, ever touch me again.” She ground out every word.
Lord Armstrong chuckled softly. “Are you sure? From my position, you seemed to be enjoying yourself thoroughly.”
Bastard!
“And what of you? Just this morning you claimed to be immune to my charms?” She wanted—needed—to wipe the mocking smile clean from his face.
“Oh, I am,” he replied softly. “But I believe I’ve just discovered the most efficient manner in which to deal with you.”
“It didn’t feel that way to me,” she snapped, remembering the hard ridge of his erection against her belly. How dare he try to make it appear as if she had been the only one affected, the only one who had lost her head for those heated moments.
The viscount gave a hearty laugh and gestured down to the front of his trousers. “You mean this?”
Shocked, Amelia blindly averted her gaze but could do little to halt another flood of heat from blistering her cheeks.
“I would hardly call this the barometer of good taste. Didn’t you know, these things have minds of their own? Sometimes it requires merely a comely face and a shapely figure. Discriminating these are not.”
Amelia wished she’d been born a big hulk of a man so she could pummel him senseless. But then if she were a man, she wouldn’t be in this position.
“If you refuse to keep your hands to yourself, I’ll be forced to take the matter in hand. And I guarantee you this, my lord, you will not like the outcome.” Her warning carried all the weight of a hummingbird, but at the moment, she did not care.
“And just what do you plan to do? Appeal to your father? If I compromised you, he would have us wed before the onset of winter. A prospect I’m certain neither of us desires.”
Of course, the blasted man was right. And nothing short of increasing his wealth threefold would please her father more. “Now I see why my father admires you so much. You and he are just the same.”
Thomas stiffened. It was clear in her tone that her statement wasn’t meant as a compliment. The creep of anger began to steal over him. His affront was for Harry not himself. Hadn’t the poor man endured enough because of her?
“I suggest you watch your tongue. Your father is one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
Amelia’s head jerked back, her eyes widening as if surprised by the vehemence of his response.
“Which isn’t saying much, I daresay. But as far as I’m concerned, the two of you suit each other well. You both care nothing for anyone else unless it’s to your financial or personal benefit. It’s a shame you weren’t my father’s son—how much simpler life would be for everyone involved.”
Thomas schooled his features. This spoilt brat dared to condescend to him. What did she know of money other than listing expenses in the credit and debit column? She’d never had to look his mother and three sisters in the eye and tell them not only hadn’t they money enough to keep up their properties but hardly enough for the barest necessities.