Page 39 of His Scandal
Every breath she took pressed her breasts even harder against his broad chest. Her hands shook where they touched his hot, bare arms that had just performed feats of incredible strength and skill. Even though all their clothes separated them, she could feel his thigh between hers, resting against her.
Her mouth was suddenly so dry that she had to lick her lips, and she discovered with astonished wonder that this somehow affected him, because he tensed against her.
It was up to her to stop this. She had to master her emotions, fight him, force him off her.
But all she could manage was, “Alex, you should stand up.”
“I should, should I?” he murmured, his laughing gaze sweeping her face.
“I mean you must.”
He lifted himself up the slightest bit, and his gaze continued from her face to her neck to her chest.
“You’re very comfortable, Emmeline.”
She sucked in a breath, then wanted to groan because it only made her ridiculously large chest look bigger. And he was staring at it!
She slapped at his shoulder. “Please, Alex, stop looking—there!”
“Where?”
“You know! My—my—”
“Your breasts?” he murmured.
She sucked in a breath. “It is improper for you to say such things.”
“But ’tis the truth. I’m looking at your breasts.”
A blush burned her cheeks.
“And they’re surely a lovely sight. Shall I describe how they make me feel?”
With a gasp, she covered her breasts with her hands. A groan rumbled through his chest, vibrating deep within her.
“Maybe I don’t have to describe what I’m feeling,” he whispered, leaning down over her. “Can’t you tell?”
He slowly ground his hips into hers, and she felt something long and hard and dangerous. She gaped at him in shock, so embarrassed that she felt suddenly warm and wet between her thighs. What was the matter with her?
Alex lowered himself even farther, until their mouths were dangerously close. She saw nothing but his face; her world was the strength of his body, and she was frightened because it felt so right.
“Don’t I even deserve a kiss for all you’ve put me through?” he murmured.
“A kiss!”
She pushed against his chest, and he rolled to his side almost too easily. She scrambled up and away from him, brushing down her skirts, feeling for leaves in her hair.
“No kiss?” he asked in mock sadness.
She meant to give him her best glare, but he suddenly rolled onto his back in the yellow daffodils, folding his bare arms behind his head as if she’d just left him in bed.
Oh my lord. A wild, wicked side of her wanted to lie back down with him. What was he doing to her—no, what was she allowing to happen?
“Why the sudden blush?” Alex asked.
“Was not your—your—groping enough of a reason?”
He looked so relaxed, stretched out at her feet, as if he was not nearly as affected as she was. She whirled and stalked away, but he quickly rose and appeared at her side.
