then, hadn’t it been madness from the moment she had literally catapulted into his life?
“There are always consequences, I suppose. One or both of us could be hurt. But you’re not married. I’m not married. Neither of us is in any great rush.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Either you go back to the sofa or I do.”
“No, stay. Please. I’m not asking you to love me. I’m asking you to make love to me. There’s a big difference. You said you wanted to, so just do it.”
“And perhaps make you pay for it?” He showed the full heat of his anger and arousal. “I don’t walk around with condoms in my pocket. Oh, my God, Miranda, what are we talking about?” he asked in an agonised voice. Never in his life had he faced such temptation.
“Making love. You may not care to hear it, but I’m on the pill. I believe in being prepared. I’m not saying with you. I never dreamt we’d be here together like this. But I could have met someone. You never know. I’m a modern girl. This is right. For tonight, Corin. I know it in my soul. I didn’t set out to seduce you. You had no intention of seducing me, such are your stringent scruples and code of morality. The ghost actually did us a favour.”
“Oh, be quiet! Truly, be quiet! ” He pulled her across him, wrapping his arms around her. She had to know what she was doing to him, but she didn’t seem to care. “This is madness!”
“But splendid madness!” She let her head fall against his chest. She would remember this extraordinary night in the last dying seconds of her life.
“To put yourself in my hands?” His vibrant voice turned steely.
“Yes, yes, and yes ! Put it down to shock. Shock has made me shameless. ‘My heart, by many snares beguiled, Has grown timorous and wild!’ Some poet said that. Can’t think who.”
She allowed her body to spread out over his: fantastic feeling, utter abandon. Then she locked her bare, slender arms around his neck. She wasn’t herself at all. She was a Miranda she had never known. Had her otherworldly visitor put a sensual spell on her? Maybe that was what he’d come for?
The agony of it! Corin felt every muscle shift in his lean body. His head was nearly bursting with conflicting emotions. Should he? Shouldn’t he? The truth was he was already lost. He let his crow-black head fall back against the piled-up pillows like a man defeated. Such extreme sexual agony demanded release. There could be no ease without action. He wanted her. God, how he wanted her! Yet for a split second he faltered. Was it possible this perfect creature with her beautiful turquoise eyes was after revenge ? Did she count this the right time? Had she really seen anything? Or was she winding him up? It could all be an elaborate scam. Some kind of weird payback? She was extremely intelligent. Highly rational. Very possibly an accomplished actress. Was she indeed playing him for a fool? If so, it was working!
Momentarily maddened, he turned her onto her side. That too was dangerously erotic, increasing the sexual tension. Then he put a hand to her tender neck, his fingers on that pulsing vein. Her flesh was like lustrous satin, as warm and as flushed as a rose. He wasn’t her captor, though. That was the trouble, he thought with a tiny stab of hostility. She had captured him . Delilah bringing another Samson to his knees.
“Look at me. Kiss me,” she whispered. “Before I dissolve right away.”
Her little sigh was quite audible in the deeply shadowed room. He answered darkly. “What man can resist such witchcraft? Okay, Miranda, if this is what you want.”
With one wrench, he had the coverlet on the floor, and then he pulled her to him, never more excruciatingly aware that passion was heedless of anything but itself. Such was his appetite, his mouth crushed hers…covered its sweetness completely…his tongue making triumphant entry into the moist apple-fresh interior. The kiss was punishing at first, ruthless, explosive, raw in
“There are always consequences, I suppose. One or both of us could be hurt. But you’re not married. I’m not married. Neither of us is in any great rush.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Either you go back to the sofa or I do.”
“No, stay. Please. I’m not asking you to love me. I’m asking you to make love to me. There’s a big difference. You said you wanted to, so just do it.”
“And perhaps make you pay for it?” He showed the full heat of his anger and arousal. “I don’t walk around with condoms in my pocket. Oh, my God, Miranda, what are we talking about?” he asked in an agonised voice. Never in his life had he faced such temptation.
“Making love. You may not care to hear it, but I’m on the pill. I believe in being prepared. I’m not saying with you. I never dreamt we’d be here together like this. But I could have met someone. You never know. I’m a modern girl. This is right. For tonight, Corin. I know it in my soul. I didn’t set out to seduce you. You had no intention of seducing me, such are your stringent scruples and code of morality. The ghost actually did us a favour.”
“Oh, be quiet! Truly, be quiet! ” He pulled her across him, wrapping his arms around her. She had to know what she was doing to him, but she didn’t seem to care. “This is madness!”
“But splendid madness!” She let her head fall against his chest. She would remember this extraordinary night in the last dying seconds of her life.
“To put yourself in my hands?” His vibrant voice turned steely.
“Yes, yes, and yes ! Put it down to shock. Shock has made me shameless. ‘My heart, by many snares beguiled, Has grown timorous and wild!’ Some poet said that. Can’t think who.”
She allowed her body to spread out over his: fantastic feeling, utter abandon. Then she locked her bare, slender arms around his neck. She wasn’t herself at all. She was a Miranda she had never known. Had her otherworldly visitor put a sensual spell on her? Maybe that was what he’d come for?
The agony of it! Corin felt every muscle shift in his lean body. His head was nearly bursting with conflicting emotions. Should he? Shouldn’t he? The truth was he was already lost. He let his crow-black head fall back against the piled-up pillows like a man defeated. Such extreme sexual agony demanded release. There could be no ease without action. He wanted her. God, how he wanted her! Yet for a split second he faltered. Was it possible this perfect creature with her beautiful turquoise eyes was after revenge ? Did she count this the right time? Had she really seen anything? Or was she winding him up? It could all be an elaborate scam. Some kind of weird payback? She was extremely intelligent. Highly rational. Very possibly an accomplished actress. Was she indeed playing him for a fool? If so, it was working!
Momentarily maddened, he turned her onto her side. That too was dangerously erotic, increasing the sexual tension. Then he put a hand to her tender neck, his fingers on that pulsing vein. Her flesh was like lustrous satin, as warm and as flushed as a rose. He wasn’t her captor, though. That was the trouble, he thought with a tiny stab of hostility. She had captured him . Delilah bringing another Samson to his knees.
“Look at me. Kiss me,” she whispered. “Before I dissolve right away.”
Her little sigh was quite audible in the deeply shadowed room. He answered darkly. “What man can resist such witchcraft? Okay, Miranda, if this is what you want.”
With one wrench, he had the coverlet on the floor, and then he pulled her to him, never more excruciatingly aware that passion was heedless of anything but itself. Such was his appetite, his mouth crushed hers…covered its sweetness completely…his tongue making triumphant entry into the moist apple-fresh interior. The kiss was punishing at first, ruthless, explosive, raw in
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