Reese’s blood was on fire.
Sophie sat across from him like a river nymph, or rather, a lake nymph. Her long blond hair hung in wet waves over her shoulders, and her skin seemed to glow from within. Her thin wet shift stuck to her like seaweed, leaving nothing to the imagination. And he’d imagined plenty.
But Sophie was right—their connection was more than physical.
Unfortunately, the closer they grew, the more he wanted her. In every way.
He gestured toward the pale pink flower resting on her shapely, half-exposed thigh. “May I?” he asked.
She moistened her lips with her tongue, then nodded. “Of course,” she said, carefully handing him the flower by the stem.
He took it and gazed deep into her bottomless blue eyes for several seconds. “Sophie Kendall,” he began. “You are as mysterious to me as a mermaid and as necessary as the sun. You are everything I’d hoped for and far more than I deserve.”
“Reese,” she said softly. “That’s not true.”
“It’s absolutely true,” he insisted. “I need you to understand it—and believe it. If I were an honorable man, I’d send you away and protect you from this…” He swallowed the knot in his throat. “This thing between us. But I’m a selfish bastard, and you … you are nigh impossible to resist.”
Her lips parted and her eyes welled with tears.
He twisted the stem of the flower between his thumb and forefinger, cursing himself for what he was about to do. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t violate your rules. But you can be damned sure that I’m going to take anything you’re willing to give me.”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “That seems fair.”
Dear God—if she only knew.
Deliberately, he used the flower to caress the arch of her foot, back and forth. Her toes curled in response, and she sighed but didn’t pull away.
“How was that?” he murmured.
“Unexpectedly…” She blinked, searching for the word. “… Arousing.”
“We’ve only just begun,” he said, feeling hopeful—and, maybe, a little smug. Using the lightest touch of the flower petals, he traced a path from her ankle to her knee to her thigh.
She remained still as a statue, but he heard her sharp intake of breath. “Reese,” she said, his name a plea on her lips.
“Will you lie down, Sophie?” he asked. “Lie down and try to relax.”
She tucked a pillow under her head, stretched out on her side, and smiled. “Our roles have reversed. I’m supposed to tell you to lie down and relax.”
“Then I’ll lie down too,” he said, propping himself on an elbow and facing her.
When she gazed at him sensuously, expectantly, he chuckled. “You might be the death of me,” he said. “And if you are, I can think of no better way to go.”
“But I haven’t done anything,” she said, mildly affronted.
The rock-hard erection in his trousers was evidence to the contrary, and, if she happened to look in that direction, the proof would be difficult to miss.
“I meant it purely as a compliment,” he assured her, trailing the flower lightly across her forehead. “Close your eyes, Soph.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut and the corner of her mouth curled in a half smile. “Very well. But I’m only agreeable because I find myself exhausted after beating you so soundly in our race.”
He chuckled again. “Stands to reason,” he said, letting the petals drift over her eyes and cheeks and under her chin.
“That feels so … nice,” she breathed, snuggling into her pillow.
“Imagine that it’s me touching you,” he whispered. “My fingertips running over your skin. My mouth tasting your lips.” He brushed the peony over her bare shoulder and down the length of her arm, lingering on the back of her hand.
“You shouldn’t say such wicked things,” she teased, her thick lashes still flush against her cheeks.
“Saying wicked things isn’t against the rules,” he quipped. “Besides, there was nothing wicked in what I said.”
“No?”
“No. I keep the wicked things in my head. It’s a mad crush of improper thoughts in there.” For example, at that very moment he was imagining ripping open the front of her shift and burying his head between her breasts before working his way down her belly, spreading her thighs apart and—
“Reese?” she said, her voice raspy.
He shifted to make more room for his erection. “Yes?”
“I’m pretending, like you said. I’m imagining that you’re touching me, and while I know it’s probably not as good as the real thing…”
“Definitely not as good,” he confirmed.
“Yes. Well, I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t feel this way with anyone else.”
Reese’s jaw clenched at the thought of Sophie with anyone but him. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, chiding himself more than her. “Just feel.”
He let the peony cruise over the swells of her breasts, freezing when her shoulders trembled. “Too much?” he asked.
“No.” Her eyes fluttered open and she looked directly at him. “Are you familiar with The Debutante’s Revenge?”
He shook his head. “Whatever it is, it sounds formidable.”
“It is,” she said proudly. “It’s a newspaper advice column devoted to matters of the heart and subjects that are not discussed in genteel drawing rooms.”
“And what advice would The Debutante’s Revenge give right now?” he asked, brushing the flower across the delicate lines of her collarbone.
“Make your desires known,” she said, as if she were quoting from the column. “Ask for what you want.”
“What do you want, Sophie?”
“I want … I want you to move the flower a bit lower.” She sat up and slipped the straps of her chemise off her shoulders, then peeled the damp fabric away from her breasts, down to her waist.
She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—graceful, kind, and courageous. He’d fought beside brave men, and Sophie was just as brave, in her own way. She knew something of sacrifice and honor; she’d lived it.
And now she sat a few scant inches away, baring herself to him. Her luminous, impossibly smooth skin begged to be touched. Her petite, perfectly rounded breasts made his mouth go dry.
“I would do anything to please you,” he said earnestly. “Anything.”
She shivered slightly and smiled. “I know,” she said. “And I trust you.”
“Good.” He took a fresh peony from the bouquet as well as the silk ribbon that had bound it. He tied the ribbon in a knot just below the blossom and left the long ends free. Then, he used the flower and silk tie to do everything he wished he could do with his hands and mouth.
He caressed the curve of her neck and traced a slow, languorous path down her arm and across her flat belly. He teased the undersides of her breasts until a moan escaped her lips, then circled the tight, pale pink buds until she strained toward him.
“Better?” he whispered.
“Better,” she confirmed, gazing at him beneath heavy-lidded eyes. “And worse.”
“I know,” he said, sympathizing. He was nearly mad with raw, hot need … but this moment was purely for Sophie.
He stared deep into her eyes as he deliberately grazed the taut peak of one breast, and she shuddered as though he’d flicked her nipple with his tongue. He continued to torment her with feathery, light strokes, gradually increasing the pressure of the satiny petals until she let out a soft cry. Then he turned his attention to her other breast, showering it with equal affection.
Sophie’s chest flushed pink, her plump lips parted, and her pupils turned huge and dark. She was practically drunk with desire and trembling with need. It would have been an easy thing to convince her to abandon the rules she’d set.
But Reese couldn’t do that. He already worried that she’d regret the things they’d done that night. And he wouldn’t risk scaring her away. The knowledge that she would return the following week was the only thing that kept him halfway sane.
Of course, he knew their time together was finite. But he refused to think about that right now. What he needed to do was to bank the fire and douse the flames that leapt between them.
“Why don’t you lie down again?” he suggested.
When she rested her head on the pillow, he reached for the quilt that had been around her shoulders and covered her torso with it.
“It’s late,” he said. “And you’ve had a long day. Rest your eyes and dream of rainbow parasols. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She shot him a grateful smile, snuggled beneath the blanket, and closed her eyes.
He watched as her body relaxed and her breathing grew even. And just as she was about to drift off, he touched the flower to her cheek in the lightest of kisses. “Good night, Soph.”