Secrets of a Summer Night (Wallflowers #1)(62)

“I don’t want love,” she said, stricken by his words. “I just want—” She paused as a sudden pain centered in her chest, in a ball of unendurable coldness. Staring up into his unreadable face she tried again. “I just want—”

There was a sound at the door. The knob began to turn. Startled, Annabelle realized that someone was about to enter the room—and then all hope of marrying Kendall would vanish like so much dust in the wind. Reacting instinctively, she seized Hunt’s arm and dragged him with her toward an alcove by the window, framed by paneled curtains that had been hung on a brass rod. The only thing in the alcove was a window seat upholstered in velvet, with a few books stacked carelessly on one side. Jerking the curtain shut, Annabelle flung herself on Hunt and clapped her hand over his mouth, just as someone…or sever also me ones…entered the music room. She could hear the muffled sounds of masculine voices, and some banging and clanking that perplexed her until she heard the plucking of out-of-tune violin strings. Oh, God. The musicians had come there to tune their instruments before the ball began. In all likelihood she was just about to be compromised in front of an entire orchestra.

There was just enough light spilling over the top of the curtain to cast a faint glow over their features— enough for Annabelle to see the evil smile that had suddenly appeared in Simon Hunt’s eyes. One word or sound from him in these incriminating circumstances, and she was done for. Her hand pressed harder over his mouth, her eyes only inches from his as she pinned him with a gaze that threatened murder.

The musicians’ voices mingled with the sound of instruments being tuned, drawn-out notes being held until they joined in harmony, dissonance being disciplined into order. Wondering if they would be caught, Annabelle stared blindly at the curtains, willing them to remain closed. She felt the touch of Hunt’s breath against the edge of her hand and realized that his jaw had gone taut. Glancing at him, she saw that the malicious amusement had vanished from his gaze, replaced by a look that was far more alarming. She froze, her heart beginning to hammer so heavily that it hurt, and she stared at him with widening eyes as his free hand lifted slowly. Her fingers were still clamped over his mouth…he began to pryat them delicately, one by one, starting with the smallest, while his breath fanned in quickening surges against the side of her hand. Her head moved in a stiff little shake, and she strained away from him, even as his arm tightened around her waist. She was utterly trapped…helpless to prevent Simon Hunt from doing whatever he wanted.

The last finger was pulled away, and Hunt pushed her hand down and gripped the back of her neck. Her fingers fluttered against his sleeves, her upper body arching slightly as his grasp on her nape tightened. He was not hurting her, but he had made it impossible for her to move or struggle. As his head lowered, her lips parted with a silent gasp, and her mind went dark.

His mouth was on hers, gentle but sure as he coaxed a response from her. She was filled with instant fever, burning everywhere, helpless against the onslaught of a desire like nothing she had ever known before. The memory of their one kiss was nothing compared to this…perhaps because he was no longer a stranger to her. She wanted him with a desperation that frightened her. The pressure of his lips floated lightly over hers, straying briefly to her chin, her cheek, leaving trails of soft fire wherever they ventured, before he returned to her mouth with more explicit pressure. She felt the tip of his tongue against hers, the silken touch so unexpected that she would have recoiled had he not been holding her so tightly.

The elegant cacophany of the musicians jangled in her ears, reminding her of the imminent possibility of discovery. She forced herself to relax against Hunt, her body shaking. For the next few minutes, she would let him do anything to her, anything, just so long as he didn’t betray their presence. Hunt tasted her again, searching with subtle strokes of his tongue. She was shocked by the intimate exploration, and even more by the unspeakable sensations that shot through the vulnerable places of her body. Delicious weakness overtook her, and she wobbled in his hold, her hands groping for his neck, his hair, the locks thick and silky against her fingers. The tentative inquiry of her hands caused him to draw an out-of-rhythm breath, as if her touch had affected him intensely. He slid one hand up to the side of her face, cradling her cheek as he pulled back just enough to nibble and tease, catching gently at her upper lip, then the lower one, lavishing her with feathery brushes of warmth. Compulsively, she exerted shaky pressure behind his neck, urging him back down to her, and when his mouth took hers in another penetrating kiss, she nearly moaned aloud. Before the sound could escape her dilated throat, she tore her mouth away and buried her face against his shoulder.

She felt the quick rise and fall of his deep-vaulted chest, and the hot rush of his breath against her hair. Grasping the mass of pinned-up curls at the back of her head, he pulled her head back to expose her throat. The burning path of his lips began at the tiny hollow just beneath her right ear, awakening exquisitely sensitive nerves as he traced the line of a delicate vein with his tongue. His fingers slid over the top of her shoulder, his thumb finding the wing of her collarbone, his open hand exploring the fragile architecture of her body. Nuzzling the side of her throat, he found a place that made her shiver, and he lingered there until she felt another moan threatening to break from her kiss-dampened lips.

Pushing at him frantically, she managed to divert him for all of three seconds, after which he sought her mouth with another hungering kiss. His palm brushed over the silk that covered her breast, once, twice, thrice. With each slow pass, the heat of his skin sank through the veil of fabric. As her nipple tingled and budded, he stroked it tenderly with the backs of his fingers until it tightened even more. The increasing pressure of his kiss forced her head back in a position of surrender, opening her to the lazy caress of his tongue, the artful investigation of his hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen, her nerves shattering with pleasure, her body consumed with sensual heat.