Page 26 of A Bonny Pretender
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The kiss waslong and hot and sweet. Frank’s tongue danced against hers, tasting the remnants of the sweet fruity ratafia punch. One hand cupped her cheek, the other pressed against her bottom and pushed her body against his. She moved up on her toes, caressing his manhood already hard with desire. A groan escaped his throat, and she froze, then pulled her head back.
“Did I hurt ye?”
The passion had darkened her blue eyes, but genuine concern was there. He chuckled, feeling her breasts against his chest as he pulled her close again and nuzzled her neck. “Sometimes, a man moans with pleasure.”
“It doesna hurt ye?”
“Kissing?” Could she be that innocent?
“No, this.” Brigid pushed her hips against his crotch. He groaned louder. “That’s no’ a happy sound.”
“Trust me.” He nibbled her ear lobe and feathered kisses down to her collarbone. “It’s a sweet ache.”
He began another slow assault on her mouth, one hand around her waist, the other skimming up and down her back. Her knees buckled against him, and he held her steady as his fingers traced the line of her cleavage and across the top of her bodice. Her panting increased, and he smiled against her mouth. With a quick dive of his thumb beneath her neckline, he freed her breast.
Her gasp encouraged his ministrations; heat roared through him. His hand kneaded the satin skin, the firm mound that fit perfectly in his hand. He lifted the pink bud to his tongue and traced a circle around it before taking it into his mouth.
God, she was lovely.
Brigid moaned, her head falling back, her chest heaving.
Frank chuckled softly. “Do you understand now?” He licked the taut pink blossom again.
“For all that’s holy, ye must put out the fire inside of me.”
“I can’t do that unless I stop.”
Another light groan. “It’s the most delicious torture I’ve ever known.”
“I agree.” He gently disengaged their limbs and covered her soft mound with reluctance. “There is another way toput out the fireas you so eloquently phrased it.”
She took his hand, and they walked back to the entrance of the maze. “I’m listening.”
“We’d have to be married.”
Brigid stopped. Her fingers tightened around his. “What are ye saying… or asking?”
Frank hadn’t planned this part of the evening. He hadn’t expected his need to be so strong. She calmed his soul and made him stiff with desire at the same time. How was that possible? Never mind, he wouldn’t question fate.
Take life as it comes, Francis, and don’t hesitate. It will be your only regret in the end.
He would take a risk and heed Angelo’s advice. Just roll the dice and see where they land. If she felt the same, so be it. If not, he would no longer dally with her.
“Miss MacNaughton, I would like to court you. Once you’ve decided we are well enough acquainted, a betrothal would follow. If you are not interested in marriage, be so kind as to tell me now.”
Her silence was unnerving. Those huge blue eyes stared up at him.
Lawks!He was an unromantic dolt. That was no way to woo a lady.
Then her face lit up in a brilliant smile.
“Does that mean ye can call me Brigid? I hate Miss MacNaughton.”
He laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. “Yes, Brigid. And you may call me Frank.”
