Suddenly You(48)

The relief of being clasped firmly, held close by his hands, was so great that Amanda couldn’t hold back a sudden gasp. He nuzzled into her bare throat, kissing, tasting, and her knees wobbled at the sensations that streaked through her. “Beautiful Amanda,” he muttered, his breath rushing fast and hot against her skin. “A chuisle mo chroi…I said that to you once before, remember?”

“You didn’t tell me what it meant,” she managed to say, resting her soft cheek on his shaven, faintly scratchy one.

He pulled his head back and stared down at her with shadowed eyes that looked black instead of blue. His broad chest moved jerkily from the force of his breathing. “The very pulse of my heart,” he whispered. “From the first moment we met, Amanda, I knew how it would be between us.”

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the soft twilled wool of his lapels. This was desire, she thought dimly, and it was a hundred times more powerful than anything she had experienced before. Even on the night he had given her the shatteringly sweet cl**ax that had kindled her senses to a brand-new awareness of pleasure, he had still been a stranger to her. And she was learning that there was a very great difference between wanting an attractive stranger and wanting a man she had come to care about. Through the shared confidences, the debates, the frequent laughter, and the simmering tension, something new had developed between them. Attraction and liking had changed into something dark and elemental.

He’ll never be yours, her heart warned her swiftly. He will never belong to you. He will never want to marry, or endure any kind of restrictions on his freedom. It will come to an end someday, and you’ll be alone again. She was too much of a realist to avoid the unsettling truth.

But all thought was chased away as his mouth closed over hers. His lips teased, settled, insisting until her own mouth relaxed and opened to him. Her response seemed to cause a small shock within him—she felt the reverberations in his throat and chest, and then the kiss turned harder, deeper, his tongue exploring her in eager surges. The invasion excited her, and she squeezed herself more tightly against him, until the abundant mounds of her br**sts were compressed against his chest.

Devlin tore his mouth away from hers as if he could stand no more, his lungs dilating in swift expansions, his hands clamping tightly over her body. “God,” he muttered into the pinned-up curls of her hair. “The way you fill my arms…it makes me insane. You’re so sweet…so soft…” He kissed her again, his mouth hot and demanding, feeding on hers as if she were some choice delicacy that he craved. As if he were addicted to her, as if only the taste and texture of her could assuage his violent need. She felt delight coiling in all the tender places of her body, tightening, waiting for the trigger that would release the gathering tension in one ecstatic explosion.

His hands moved over her bodice, fumbling slightly as he searched the panels of corded green silk. The cool flesh of her br**sts plumped out over the square neckline, their fullness resisting the tight containment of the gown. He bent and pressed his lips to the deep valley of her cle**age, then spread slow kisses over the revealed skin. Her ni**les rose in hard points beneath the gown, and he touched them through the silk fabric, his thumbs rubbing, stroking, his fingers gently plucking. Amanda whimpered in distress, remembering their other time together on her birthday, how her body had been exposed to him in the firelight, the way his mouth had licked and tugged at her bare breast. She wanted that intimacy again, with a desperation that felt like madness.

Devlin seemed to read her mind, for his hand cupped over the rise of her breast and squeezed firmly to ease the yearning ache. “Amanda,” he said hoarsely, “let me take you home tonight.”

Her mind was foggy with sensuality. It took a long time for her to answer. “You’ve already offered the use of your carriage,” she whispered.

“You know what I’m asking.”

Yes, of course she understood. He wanted to go home with her, and accompany her to her bedroom, and make love in the bed that no one but she had ever slept in. Resting her forehead against his hard chest, Amanda nodded unsteadily. It was time. She understood the risks, the limits, the possible consequences, and she was willing to accept all of that in return for the sheer joy of being with him. One night with him…one hundred…whatever fate allowed her, she would take.

“Yes,” she said into the soft, damp linen of his shirt, where the scent of his skin mingled deliciously with traces of starch and cologne and Christmas greenery. “Yes, come home with me tonight.”

Chapter 9

Amanda had little awareness of time for the rest of the evening, only that it seemed to take an eternity for the guests to leave. Finally, weary children were bundled into the waiting carriages by parents flushed with wine and holiday cheer. Couples murmured discreetly in the entranceway, exchanging plans and promises, as well as a few hasty kisses beneath the swag of mistletoe over the door.

Amanda saw very little of Devlin during the last hour of the party, as he was occupied with bidding the guests good-bye and accepting their good wishes. An irrepressible smile edged her lips as she realized what he was doing: subtly ushering the partygoers out the door and to their carriages with all possible speed. Clearly he was eager to be rid of them and alone with her. From the wary glance he directed her way, Amanda guessed that he suspected she might change her mind about her promise.

However, nothing would come between them this evening. She had never felt so undefended and willing and filled with expectation. She waited with forced patience, sitting in a small blue-and-gold parlor and dreamily contemplating the yellow blaze in the marble fireplace. When all the guests were gone and the house bustled with servants cleaning and the musicians were carefully packing away their instruments, Devlin came to her.