Chapter Sixteen

A tangy breeze slipped through the open window. Seated at his desk, Griffin paused in his writing, the pen poised above the paper when Lily entered the cabin. “You’re back,” he said, happy to see her though she’d been gone only a few hours.

His ill humor when he’d discovered her in the hold three nights ago had long since dissipated. Also absent these past few days was Lily’s drive to prove him guilty of misdeeds and spying. It was as though she’d turned a corner and left behind all suspicion and doubt.

“Did you enjoy your stroll with Mr. Mead?” he teased. “Was he as fascinating as ever?”

She preened and tossed her wide brimmed bonnet on the bed. “You sound jealous.”

“Me? Not the jealous type.”

At his suggestion, Lily agreed to afternoon walks with Mead. The two shared a vast interest in science and could talk for hours. In her absence, Griffin wrote political essays and locked them away before her return.

“What have you there?” He jutted a chin at the covered dish in her hand.

She whipped off the checkered cloth.

He yelped in exaggerated astonishment. “An apple tart.”

“Instead of exercise, I baked this for you.” Aglow with pride, she held out her delectable achievement. “Cook was brave enough to let me muck about in the galley—with Sloan’s assistance, of course.”

“No doubt the lad considers it one of the better afternoons of his illustrious sailing career.” He couldn’t help but smile. “And what of Mead?”

“When creativity calls, who is he to stand in the way?” She grinned. “His words. Not mine.”

Smart man. “I’m touched.” The delicious scent of cinnamon and apple wafted from the sweet goodness. Pleased beyond all measure, he accepted the gift. “Baking is another talent you can add to your list of accomplishments.”

A shrugged shoulder minimized the praise. “Uncle Percy’s cook labored to teach me the correct ways to knead dough and bake a decent pie.”

He admired the golden crust almost as much as the satisfaction evident in her rosy cheeks. Seated at the desk, he leaned forward and placed the delicacy on the table with a long reach. “I shall enjoy it very much. Thank you.”

As he eased back he gripped the chair arms, resisting the impulse to spring forward to embrace her. It hadn’t been easy to keep his fingers from her silky skin these past few days. Fortunately, they’d settled once again into a cordial routine. Mulworthy hadn’t questioned her behavior again. Still, circumstances required he maintain his guard.

Furthermore, he continued to sleep on the floor. In less than a week, when they reached land, they would go their separate ways. There were many facets of her he would miss—kindness, generosity, humor, and above all, her probing mind, the one trait to vex him the most.

“Would you join me for a slice?” Already an ache of loneliness stabbed his heart.

“Perhaps later. I’ve eaten too many apples. Please, go ahead and enjoy.” Her lovely face reminded him of a rose with its perfection in every satiny petal.

“I’ll wait until I can share it with you.” He acted as if her very closeness didn’t charge the atmosphere around them. “Until then, it’s back to work for me.”

“So dedicated.” On a whiff of lavender, she floated closer and paused near the edge of the desk. His papers claimed her full attention.

“Curious, are you?” When she reached for the top sheet, he gripped her wrist, but his rash response hadn’t been necessary. The writing was humorous fiction and not dangerous. Perhaps she hoped to discover treasonous words. “You’re a nosy little thing.”

She stared at his hand, watching as he released her. His heart sped. He licked his dry lips and tried not to think of kissing her silky throat.

“It’s the latest chapter of my book.” He caught the slight hitch in his voice. The air crackled with a sense of expectancy. An image came to him of two tigers circling over a bit of meat. Around and around they went, wary and attentive. Against her protesting yelp, he yanked her onto his lap. “Look at me, not my work,” he growled.

Their gazes locked. In hers, he recognized surprise, excitement, and best of all, desire. The rousing emotions battered away his resolve. He cupped her head, intent on a sweet kiss, a light nibble to satisfy his hunger.

Her arms sidled over his shoulders. She hugged him closer and further stirred his delight. As though she wanted this as much as him, she began to play. An explorer on a quest, she skimmed the planes of his face and the shape of his skull. All the while, she teased him with her lips. Against all logic and sensible restraint, the kiss deepened. Cinnamon and honey flavored her tongue. Her purring sounds intensified his need.

In less than a heartbeat, he was flying at the edge of his boundary. His breathing quickened. His body tightened. “I want you,” he panted against the hot skin of her neck.

In a strong grip, she clasped the queue at the base of his head and anchored him, owning him before she took his mouth again.

He moaned with pleasure, aware he would give her all he had to give. Forever. Period.

Reluctant to stop, he slid a hand inside her bodice, excited with her cry of pleasure when he thumbed her taut nipple. She arched with her spine bowed. The other hand glided up her calf and slipped beneath her skirts. Her skin was incredibly smooth. He shifted her so both legs rested astride him.

“So much better to see and feel,” he teased. A squeeze to her bottom elicited an eager yelp. “So much better for…”

Her kiss stopped his words.

“Hmmm.” Lily moaned, shocked at the wanton sound that coiled from the depths of her throat. No man had ever touched her so intimately. At once, uncertainty set in. To cease seemed imperative. Pressing gently on his strong shoulder, she broke from his embrace, flushed and aroused with want and guilt. “This isn’t…”

This isn’t what?

“This isn’t what I had in mind.” Confusion jangled her thoughts. She wriggled in his lap, aware of his firm arousal. With a conscious effort, she slowed her rapid breathing.

He smiled lazily. Frank lust bristled in his naked gaze. “What did you have in mind?”

“Conversation and friendship.”

With a delicious lopsided grin, he studied her through half-lowered lids. “What is it you play at? One minute it’s yes and the next it’s no.”

She despised being so tentative and unsure. Yet if he continued kissing her, all would be lost. The heat of him against her skin and lips still simmered.

“You’re all man,” she said as if the fact weren’t obvious. The very nature of their differences lured her. She tried in a vain hope to assert logical reason. “I adore your masculinity.” She shook her head, thinking the comment idiotic. He was compelling, self-assured and displayed strength of character that comforted in the loneliest of times. But there was more to it.

The realization jolted her. She loved him.

They both acted in the same instant.

Forget reason and talk. Forget tentative touches. They kissed with a forceful urgency as though starved of oxygen. Her hands roved restlessly over his body and demanded to experience every fold and plane. He countered and stroked arms and legs until he scooped up her bottom and pressed her to the hard evidence of his longing. A shameless rumble vibrated in his throat.

“Lily.” He sucked in a great, noisy breath. “I want you.”

Every cell in her body quivered. “And I want you.”

“Are you certain?”

She reached for him. Her kiss was possessive. A woman who took what she wanted.

He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Too overcome to speak, she watched as Griffin fixed her with a gaze while his tapered fingers undid the ties of his shirt. Unlike their frenzied groping a few moments ago, he moved with a languid grace as he slipped the garment over his head and dropped it on the desk. In the same unrushed cadence, he removed his shoes and hose. She marveled at his self-control, for she was a restless tempest. She wanted, nay needed, to be doused in a passionate fit of lovemaking.

“I aim to be slow,” he said as though he’d read her mind. “For your sake.” He flashed an uneven grin. “I may not succeed, but I intend to try.”

Devil.

“I don’t care what you do. Just do it.” Saucy words from a girl whose insides skittered in a rush of fearful anticipation.

Naked except for his blue breeches, he dropped a knee on the feather bed. “Don’t be afraid.”

Afraid? She was terrified yet nothing in the world could stop her from going forward. Swallowing her nerves, she placed a hand on his flat stomach—a smooth rock heated in the sun. Beautiful came to mind. His seductive gaze drove up her temperature.

She trembled as she skimmed the indentations of his broad chest, in awe when his nipple contracted. In an instant, he’d stretched out beside her, his body large and strong. She reveled in the sense of safety and protection within his arms.

At first his kiss was light, a promise of things to come. Impatient, she worked the leather thong in his hair away and tossed it aside.

He nibbled lightly at her earlobe. She melted beneath his warmth as he kissed her brow, her cheek, and worked his way to the soft spot beneath her chin. With a nimble touch, he loosened the laces of her gown. All the while, his hand roamed over the muslin, up and down arms and thighs, across stomach and hips, stimulating and surprising. The top of her dress fell away. He palmed her breast, his thumb circling and circling around the sensitive center, and she squirmed beneath him, alive with tingling sensations and agitated for reasons she couldn’t understand.

“Ohhh.” She moaned and thrashed against him, wanting more, wanting relief from the heat.

He tugged at her chemise. “Let’s get this off,” and like a puppet, she raised her arms and allowed him to glide the gossamer slip from her body.

“Lovely.” His brazen stare fixed appreciatively on her breasts. “Come here,” he rasped and applied himself with an earnest resolve. His tongue teased her nipple. It tightened in delectable agony and induced parallel upheavals in her muscles. Her head ground into the pillow, uncertain whether she could withstand the delicious agony—a pleasure so intense she feared she might go up in flames if he didn’t stop.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He sucked a nipple into his hot, hot mouth, tugging and tugging while a strange feline sound circled around her head. A cat in heat. She arched away from the mattress. He pressed her back, hand to her stomach. “Please,” she cried, voice strangled.

Impatiently, he shoved aside the gown and petticoats twisted and bunched at her hips. His palm slid down her belly. One finger swept across the sensitive peak between her legs. The pressure intensified, the pleasure as exquisite as anything she’d ever experienced. She gripped his shoulder, solid and muscular, a counterpoint to her unraveling, jagged emotions. He switched to his thumb and strummed it back and forth. Desire gathered with a painful clenching, thrilling and unnerving.

“Please, I can’t…” She feared she might burst into fire.

“You can,” he urged. The certainty in his voice buoyed her spirit. “Trust me, Lily.”

Trust me. Truth. It’s what mattered.

Every muscle gripped taut. Her legs trembled. Her fingers bit into his skin. She was on fire and dying. A keening sound ripped from her throat. Her body exploded and rose from the bed. Suspended aloft, she splintered into tiny specks of brilliant light. As she floated back to the mattress, spineless and wispy as a feather, she grinned with utter joy.

Between hugs and kisses, he murmured endearments until her world came back to clear focus.

“Lily, my dearest.”

She enjoyed the solid mass of muscle against the length of her body, the smell of his shaving soap, the glossy texture of his hair. He stroked her with lazy movements that soon became more determined and demanding. It amazed her how her body roused again to his thrilling touch. In no time, she was panting and writhing, an unashamed woman who needed as much to give pleasure to as to receive.

His breath turned ragged. Tension rippled through his body, and like her, he seemed on the edge of losing control. With one hand, he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches.

“I must have you,” he breathed.

Her pulse thudded as he nudged her legs further apart. This is it. Scared witless and excited beyond all reason, she grabbed his hair and drew him to her.

He eased into her. A sharp pinch deep inside made her breath hitch. The pain eased away in seconds.

“Lily.” He sounded frayed, at loose ends and not at all the contained man she’d come to know. “I…I’ll be gentle.”

She caressed his cheek appreciative of his intent. However he claimed his release, he wouldn’t hurt her.

He moved inside her, slow at first, allowing her to experience the sublime pleasure he evoked. As if they were feathers, his fingers brushed against her breast while his breath was a hot mist against her neck. Their tongues melded in a twining dance. Instinctively, she flexed her hips to match his rhythm and curled her legs around his waist. Pressing her into the mattress, he thrust deeper and faster. The sheer delectable power of his body pounded into her and drove her wild. Her body tightened. Every muscle clenched. Her insides coiled until she cried out.

When his release came, he spilled across her belly with a tattered, wretched cry.

Clasped in his embrace, their chests rose on quick breaths while their hearts pounded together. Still breathing fast, he settled beside her, and she cuddled into his arms. Her head resting on his chest, she trailed a finger from his sternum to his navel, inhaling the unique smell of lust and sweat and marveled at the wonder of it all.

Though he couldn’t see her face, he asked, “What are you smiling about?”

Her grin widened. “How can you tell I’m smiling?”

“I can feel you smile, deep in here.” He touched his chest. “I can feel everything about you.”

He shifted and stared into her face. “Let me make you smile again.” Then he dipped his head and kissed her.