She was being terribly foolish. She was beautiful, even more so under the moonlight on this balcony overlooking the dimly lit garden. It was damned poetic.
Had he been anyone else, he might consider risking Paris for one night with her. He might consider seducing her into his bed, to hell with Parisian fêtes and gaming. After all, there was always Venice. If only the cost were not the lives of others…
He raised one hand to tuck a dark curl behind her ear, his fingers tracing its outer ridge before he forced his fist back down to his side.
“You, m’dear girl,” he murmured, “are old enough to know better than to tempt a scoundrel.”
“I know what I am doing,” she spouted back indignantly. “I am not a child.”
“No,” he agreed easily. “You are certainly not a child.”
“Then I would expect you not to treat me like one.” Her eyes flashed, giving him a teasing glimpse of passion.
Lady Dumonte possessed passion?
Another surprise.
“Of course not.” He frowned in mock seriousness. “How should I treat you? As a lady or a mistress?”
“As a woman,” she ground out. “I am a woman!” Her lips pursed together as she glared up at him.
He smiled broadly; he couldn’t help himself.
“Ah, yes,” he agreed, looking her over as though he had only just noticed. “I believe you are.”
She took in a deep breath, pushing her breasts against the tight fabric of her bodice.
His cock jumped to attention.
“I was wrong about not liking you. I hate you!”
“And yet,” he mused with a knit brow, “you throw yourself at me like all the others. You are either in denial of your overwhelming attraction to me or a glutton for punishment. For my own complacency, I choose the former.”
Céleste shook her head slowly, her eyes narrowed and seething with anger.
“Regardless,” he continued frankly at his own peril, “you had better run along, or you may find your offer accepted, and we both know you never expected that. Your bluff has been called, Lady Dumonte. Go on home like a good girl.”
“I never bluff.”
“Never say never, m’dear,” he murmured with a purposefully wicked smile.
He’d had enough. No man could just stand there while this woman was offering herself up like a feast, especially with that temperament peeking through.
Lady Dumonte might just be quite the feisty, little cat had someone the courage and ambition to bring it out in her. Even so, that someone couldn’t be Nick. All he could do was scare her into behaving herself and leaving him the hell alone.
With that goal in mind, he let go of his restraint and touched her. She startled, but she didn’t back away. He settled his hands high on her waist and hugged her curves as they slid down to her hips, testing her figure, not that he hadn’t already known precisely how her waist curved into her perfectly rounded buttocks. To his great discomfort, he had dreamt about said buttocks the night before and had woken up irritable and unsated.
He did his best to push the memory of that libidinous dream out of his mind as he brushed the backs of his fingers just below her ear and down her neck to the curve of her bodice. He wanted to see her reaction.
She kept the same determined look she’d had before, but he could see she was wavering.
This ought to be easy. She would run, and be far too embarrassed to threaten him again.
He tipped her chin up and slowly lowered his head, stopping a hairsbreadth from her lips. “Are you sure?”
“Y-yes,” she breathed.
His eyes narrowed. “Really? The big bad wolf doesn’t scare you?”
“Of course not.”
“Even when I kiss you here?” He brought his finger between them and lightly touched her bottom lip. “Or here?” He slid his finger to her earlobe. “Or here?” he whispered, lightly stroking her neck.
Her breathing had stopped completely.
“Well?”
She shook her head. “No.”
The barely audible word was all he needed. His wolfish smile broadened, and he lowered his head and kissed her. Once, twice, three times, his lips met hers before he wrapped his arms around her, dwarfing her as he pulled her into him. He fastened onto her mouth as though she was air and he was suffocating.
To begin any bout of lovemaking in such a fashion was unpolished and gauche, but he wanted to overwhelm her. He wanted to show her that she was in over her head.
He expected her to put up a fight. He thought to scare her and let her go. Instead, she began to kiss him back, catching him completely off guard. His lips were paralyzed as she kissed him with unschooled awkwardness. He was dazed, trying to catch up to what was happening and react.