Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(61)

“I know what men think when they look at me, what kind of woman they—you—expect. They assume I’ve been with many men. But there’s been only one. Years ago. I was curious and lonely and…oh, I have a dozen excuses. H-he was the first. And the last. I hated every minute of it. The experience was as miserable, dreadful, for him as it was for me. He was a great society favorite, held in high esteem as a lover, so don’t assume the fault was his. It was mine. I don’t have those kinds of feelings. I am the last woman a sane man would want in his bed.” She laughed bitterly. “Now do you still want me?”

Alex slid his fingers under her chin and forced her face up. His gray eyes were filled with compassion and an underlying darkness as deep and infinite as a moonless night. “Yes.”

Lily felt a tear roll down her cheek. Humiliated, she twisted away from him. “For God’s sake, don’t pity me!”

“Does this feel like pity to you?” Lightning-swift, he caught her h*ps and pulled her hard against his body. She made an inarticulate sound. “Does it?” He held her against his rigid, aroused flesh and stared into her eyes. “Why did you hate it?”

She shook her head slightly, her lips compressed.

“It’s always painful the first time,” he said softly. “Didn’t you expect that?”

“Of course.” She flushed with mortified scorn. “I would have hated it in any case.”

“So you’ve judged and convicted all men from one experience. One night.”

“He taught me all I needed to know,” she agreed stiffly.

Alex pressed his hand on her lower back, keeping her against him. His voice was gently reproachful. “What if my opinion of all women were based solely on my acquaintance with you?”

“I daresay you wouldn’t be so eager to get married.”

“Well, you solved that particular problem of mine.” He lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck. She leaned back, stiffening her arms between them. “Fifteen thousand pounds is a great deal of money,” he murmured. “Are you certain you shouldn’t consider spending a few hours with me instead?”

“Now you’re mocking me,” she said wrathfully.

“No,” he whispered, the word brushing her cheek like a kiss. She turned her face away. “And you dared to call me stubborn.” He threaded his fingers through her sable curls. “You’ve let the memory fester for years, probably turned it into something even worse than it was—”

“Oh, go right ahead, belittle my feelings,” she cried, her temper sparking. “But you don’t know the whole of the story, and I would die before telling you, so don’t try to make me—”

“All right.” He buried his lips in her hair. “I want you,” he said, his voice muffled and determined. “No more talking. We’re going to do this, whether or not I can find a bed in this damn place.” His arms tightened and he nuzzled deeper against her scalp. “All you have to do is let it happen. Just let it happen.”

Lily closed her eyes, her face wedged against his chest. His arms felt like steel around her. The jutting bulge of his loins burned through the layers of clothing between them. In spite of his urgency, he seemed to be waiting for something. His mouth moved among her curls, and his fingers splayed wide on her back. He whispered against her hair. “Lily, don’t be afraid. I want to please you. I’ll make it good. Trust me. You have to trust me.”

A strange passiveness came over her, a weariness she couldn’t withstand. She had struggled and fought for so long, using all her wiles to stay afloat in a churning sea. She had no more strength, no ideas. Nothing to lose. Finally she had come up against a will greater than her own, and there seemed to be no choice but to drift, and let herself be towed in its wake. Let it happen…the words seemed to echo in her ears. Hesitantly she turned her head to the doorway on the left, the direction of the bedroom. She spoke in a faltering whisper. “I believe…it’s over there.”

He picked her up easily and carried her through the next two rooms, until they came to one filled with lamplight and heavy gold-framed mirrors and an enormous bed adorned with carved dolphins and trumpets. Setting her on her feet, Alex took her face in his hands, his thumbs touching the corners of her lips. She looked at him through half-closed eyes, at his harshly perfect features gleaming gold in the muted light. He bent his head, his mouth brushing against hers.

With an erotic shock, she felt the tip of his tongue against her lips, edging the smooth curve, leaving behind a trace of silken moisture. Then he pressed deep, sealing their lips together. The warmth of his mouth was mysteriously pleasant. Lily swayed, suddenly off balance as she stood on her toes. She reached around his neck to keep herself steady, and let her lips drift apart in unconscious invitation. The intrusion of his tongue was gradual, barely venturing past her teeth.

It was folly to trust him. She knew the gentleness wouldn’t last. She sensed his growing tension, the way his hand shook as he took her wrist and loosened her glove and peeled the velvet from her slender arm. She could feel the raw power in him, the restraint pulling taut until it was in danger of snapping. But he removed her other glove with the same exquisite care. His fingers glided to the edge of her low-cut bodice and he toyed with the feathery border of lace. There was no other movement except for the small, restless stroke of his fingers.