Page 43 of Unmasking the Earl

His jaw stiffened, and he took another step toward her, his dark eyes glinting with a savage light. “I’ve had enough of your chiding, Miss Blythe. I don’t like it one bit.”

She tipped her head up. They were standing almost breast to chest now, and she could feel the spilled water soaking into her shoes, but she was too cross with him to retreat. “In that case, I’ll get my friend to rescind your invitation, and I won’t help you any more with your quest!”

“I never asked for your help,” he said, but the anger was slipping from his expression. “Let’s both calm down, Cassie, and not overreact.” He regarded her for a long moment. “Though, I have to say, you look stunningly beautiful when you’re angry.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He had taken all the wind out her sails with that compliment, curse the man!

And how could she stay cross when he was so close she could easily reach out and run a hand down his slick, wet flesh? If her lessons with Wycherley were a scandal, being here with Ned in his nearly naked state was a complete disgrace.

She didn’t care.

“Cassie.” His damp fingers reached out and caressed her face, his thumbs stroking the corners of her mouth. She didn’t look into his eyes. She couldn’t focus on anything other than his full, firm lips, hot and inviting.

Just a whisper away…

Through the blur of her lustful thoughts she registered the brush of a dropped towel. Then he pulled her against his body and kissed her.

For a moment, she froze. Then melted against him.

Yes, oh yes. She wanted this. To touch him, to be touched. To explore his tall, muscular body with eager fingers. She’d never reacted so powerfully to a man before, never wanted a man this desperately. Not even Julian.

Nothing mattered except experiencing the intense sensations rushing through her body.

Ned’s lips plundered hers, and with his hands holding her head still, she couldn’t have escaped if she’d wanted to.

She didn’t want to. Not in a million years.

Snaking her hands up into his dripping black hair, she caressed his head, pulling his mouth more firmly against her own, parting her lips so her tongue could taste him.

The whole hot, hard mass of his body pressed against hers, and she knew her gown would be soaked, but with the amount of heat passing between them, she felt only pleasure.

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her breasts against the solid muscle of his chest, but he didn’t release her from his kiss. Instead, without warning, his tongue delved between her lips, penetrating her slack defenses in one masterful movement. It teased and danced with hers.

“Damn, you woman,” he growled, releasing her mouth for a moment. “You are making a lovesick fool of me.”

She blinked, but her body was completely attuned to his, captured by the special magic that was filling her with such delightful, unfamiliar sensations.

“Don’t talk,” she commanded, pulling his lips back to hers. “Kiss me.”

He deepened the kiss, his tongue probing her mouth in a relentless rhythm of advance and retreat. She ran her hands across the muscles of his broad shoulders, down the mounded upper arms, and along the sinewy forearms with their dark smattering of hair.

His hands had found their way to her waist, then moved slowly up her rib cage, dangerously close to where her breasts pressed against him. His thumbs began to circle the soft flesh of her curves, and she quivered at his touch, unconsciously stepping back to allow him better access.

Suddenly, a noise came from the doorway, along with a short, feminine scream.

Chapter Twenty-One

Cassie spun around to see Portia standing there armed with mop and bucket, staring at her, dumbstruck.

Ned slid his hands around her waist from behind and held her firmly. “Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear. “We don’t want to shock your friend any more than need be.”

His voice was so low, so enticing, a thrill of awareness sliced through her entire body. She wanted to lean back and feel his lips on hers again…and perhaps in other places, as well.

She gulped. “I’m so sorry, Portia,” she managed. “I got a bit…distracted.”

“I can see that!” exclaimed her friend, dumping the mop and bucket just inside the door. “I’ll be downstairs setting the table for supper. If anybody still cares about eating.”

“We’ve shocked her,” said Cassie as her friend slammed the door shut. “What will she think of me?”