My Lord Immortality (Immortal Rogues #3)(25)

"Thoughts best forgotten, my dear."

"Why?"

"You do enjoy playing with fire, do you not?" he murmured, his fingers moving to outline the full curve of her lips.

"At times, I suppose." Lost in the unfamiliar fever that seared her blood, Amelia shifted close enough to j feel his body through the thin lawn of her gown. "Do you prefer the more cautious paths?"

He gave a choked groan deep in his throat, his fingers convulsively cupping her cheek. "They are considerably safer."

"But often dull."

"And peaceful."

She gazed into the eyes that had turned to a misty smoke. "Surely as a scholar you desire some stimulation to keep your wits sharp?"

His features remained composed, but Amelia could; sense the rapid, uneven beat of his heart.

He might desire to be indifferent but his body was swiftly betraying him.

"It depends entirely upon the stimulation," he muttered. "My wits do not feel particularly sharp at the moment."

Her smile was filled with a feminine mystery as old as time. Oh no, at this moment she was not boring, responsible Amelia Hadwell at all.

"Perhaps you should blame it upon the moon."

"The moon does indeed possess its share of blame." His gaze lowered to where his fingers continued to brush over her lips. "But not all, I think."

"I have no ancient powers."

His expression became wry. "You are mistaken. Your powers are the most ancient of all."

A faint frown touched her brow as she sensed the rigid control that wrapped about his inner passions.

"Powers you are quite determined to resist, are you not?"

He drew in a deep, uneven breath, an unmistakable flare of pain darkening his eyes.

"It seems the wisest course."

"Why?"

"There is still a demon haunting the neighborhood. As long as there is danger then I must remain vigilant." His hand tightened upon her cheek, his expression somber. "It is very important, Amelia."

"Yes, I know," she agreed softly, even as her mind shied from recalling such unpleasantness.

There would be time enough for such worries tomorrow.

Clearly sensing her dangerous mood, Sebastian shifted uneasily. "You should return to bed."

Her fingers tightened upon his arm. "I am not tired. I feel... I do not know, as if my blood is on fire."

A fine shiver raced through him. A shiver echoed within herself.

"Moon madness," he whispered.

"Perhaps the moon does have its share of blame, but not all," she softly echoed his own words.

"Amelia," he moaned in agonized tones.

Emboldened by the undeniable desire smoldering In his eyes, Amelia leaned even closer to his welcome strength. Moon madness or not, she was not yet prepared for this interlude to end.

"Do you desire to kiss me?"

Sebastian stiffened, and for a horrified moment she thought she might have disgusted him with her forward behavior. He was no doubt a gentleman unaccustomed to such giddy recklessness.

Then he shifted so he could frame her face with his hands. liven in the moonlight she could easily detect the strain upon his countenance.

"You can have no notion," he breathed.

Her heart fluttered. "Then why do you not?"

"As I said, it is not wise."

Her own hands rose to cover his fingers still cupping her face. The tingling excitement in the air could not be denied.

"For the moment I do not wish to be wise. The moon is shining, the roses are blooming, and I am an aging spinster who has never been kissed."

"Hardly a spinster," he growled.

"I am three-and-twenty, near enough to be put upon the shelf."

"Absurd." His gaze stroked over her countenance, lingering for a long moment upon the unsteady line of her mouth. She could feel the taut control that hardened his body. "You are young and beautiful and utterly enchanting. If you desire to be kissed I do not doubt that gentlemen will be beating a path to your door."

Amelia could not stop her short, almost bitter laugh. "You know little of gentlemen if you believe they are interested in a maiden who has firmly turned her back upon society and devotes most of her attention to a brother most would consider mad."

Sebastian frowned, as if displeased with the stark truth she had accepted long ago.

"A gentleman of sense would surely rejoice at being well rid of society and delighted by your unwavering loyalty. Do not sell yourself short, my dear."

She realized that he was simply attempting to make her feel better. It was his nature. But at the moment she did not want sympathy or vague reassurances.

"Obviously I have yet to meet a gentleman of sense," she retorted in low tones.

Sebastian sucked in a deep breath, his head lowering until his forehead touched her own.

"Oh, Amelia, you are surely destined to shatter my peaceful existence."

He was so wondrously close. Near enough to make her entire body quiver with longing.

Amelia could resist temptation no longer. She wanted to know how it felt to be held in this man's arms and kissed by those lips that she had thought of far too often over the past few days.

Perhaps she was too reckless and impulsive, but she was quite certain that unless she did something desperate, Sebastian's rigid self-control would remain intact until the end of time.