The Romantic by Madeline Hunter Page B

because of the cost to you of such a scandal. I almost wrote your name, truly. My pen was poised to do so, but consideration of all that stopped me. Of course the notion entered my mind, but under the circumstances it just seemed to be best if I removed you from consideration.”
    He stepped in front of her, between her and the sea, listening with amusement. He reached out and gently laid two fingers on her lips, stopping her attempts to assuage his pride.
    “It is very sweet of you to explain that, Pen. Also a mistake. It would have been better not to tell me.”
    She took his hand in hers. “I believe it was right to tell you, Julian. I do not want you insulted or hurt because of that stupid list.”
    His gaze fell to their hands. His hold tightened. Tiny lightning bolts brightened his eyes. “Touching me right now was another mistake, Pen. A very big one.”
    She moved in a blur as he pulled her into his arms and captured her in an encompassing embrace.
    He kissed her again, but it was different this time. Definitely impulsive. Dangerously furious. She might have controlled her reactions to the last kiss if she hadtruly wanted to. This kiss gave her little choice but submission.
    The blanket wrapped her, but his strength encircled her, too. His tight embrace held her so closely that she could feel all of him. His chest pressed her breasts, and his firm grasp held her to the kisses ravishing her mouth and neck.
    He paused and gazed down at her. There was no mistaking the way he looked at her. No mistaking the sensual fury in his eyes. Nor could she ignore the way her lips swelled and throbbed from his kisses, and how that pulse beat its way through her cheek and down her neck to her breasts.
    That exciting pulse turned her initial surprise and alarm into a seductive entrancement.
    Her whole body reacted to his bold gaze. The throbbing became undeniably sexual and beat in her blood and head, and physically in her breasts and belly.
    He knew. New lights entered his eyes that showed he did. No matter what shock her face might show, he could tell that her body recklessly dared him to kiss her again.
    He did, ruthlessly. He aroused her as if he knew just how to do it. Each kiss was calculated to render her helpless to the escalating pleasure.
    Stunning pleasure. A hot wind of it. Sly currents of hunger flowed ruthlessly to swelling pools of desire. Her breasts grew heavy and tender and sensitive. Moisture began slicking her thighs.
    She barely noticed their steps back to the dry sand stripping the base of the terrace wall. He lowered her as if lying on the sand were her only choice of where to go.
    He peeled apart the blanket to spread on the sand andshrugged off his coat. She was able to embrace his warmth during the next kiss. It felt so good to hold him, so blissful that it drenched her spirit and left her even more defenseless.
    The kisses calmed. They turned sweet and slow and too tender to bear. Her body both relished the slow pleasure and ached for more.
    He rose up on one arm and looked down at her, giving substance to the image of him that had flashed in her head for the last day. The wind blew his dark hair and the sleeves of his shirt. His gaze followed the gentle caress of his hand over her face and neck.
    “Do you want to go back to the cottage?”
    She could not resist touching him, too. She caressed the face looking down at her and the lips that had been kissing her. The sensation of his skin under her fingertips entranced her.
    Her intense reactions confused her. Frightened her. The part of her that shuddered with anticipation knew exactly what it wanted, but her conscience chanted that she should leave at once and not risk complicating and ruining this friendship.
    “I do not know what I want.”
    “I do.” His caress drifted lower, to her neck. Her skin began sparkling with warmth. “You will stay for a while, Pen, and we will enjoy the sea and each other.”
    The next kiss told her what would happen and