The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath

are quite persuasive, but I’m not ready for the more you promise. I need to savor this for a bit. I don’t know if I’m quite comfortable with it. And I want to be if there is ever more between us.”
    He almost reassured her that there would be more. He was not going to give her up without knowing her fully. As it was, his body was aching with need, but he’d never forced a woman. He wanted her willing, as she’d been before she understood the destination of the journey they were on.
    He would have her, and it would be sweet, so sweet.
    The coach slowed, came to a halt.
    â€œLet me know when you’re ready to depart,” he said. “My footman will not open the door as long as the curtains are drawn.”
    â€œDo you often misbehave in coaches?”
    â€œI misbehave everywhere. I especially want to do so with you, as I seem to have little control when I am with you.”
    â€œYet you stopped when I asked.”
    â€œI’m not a barbarian. I want you, I want you completely. But I want you willing.”
    She released a long, slow sigh. “I should go in now.”
    He drew back the curtains. The door opened and he stepped out. Then he handed her down, walked her to the door.
    â€œIt was a remarkable night,” she said. “Thank you.”
    With one hand, he cupped her chin and tilted up her face. “We are not yet done, Rose. Take whatever time you need, but know that one night very soon you will be mine completely and absolutely.”
    He brushed his lips over hers, then stepped back.
    â€œSleep well, Your Grace,” she said, before opening the door and slipping inside.
    As he strode back to his coach, he doubted he’d sleep at all. Never in his life had he ever wanted to possess a woman as much as he wanted Rosalind Sharpe.
    W ith tiny tremors cascading through her, Rose pressed her back to the door, surprised her legs had retained enough strength to support her. Never before had she lost such control of a situation, of herself. Never before had she been so frightened by the power that a man could wield over her. He could cost her everything.
    She had to look beyond pleasure but it was so blasted difficult when her nerve endings had been transformed into tiny stars sparkling in the heavens, alive with some sort of electricity shooting through them. She loved kissing Avendale, loved the play of their mouths, loved the warmth he generated. When he slipped his hand beneath her petticoats, she knew he was traveling where he ought not, but she could not bring herself to stop him, to bring a halt to the wondrous sensations that he so easily brought to life.
    Had she understood where the journey would end—­
    She’d not have stopped him. She was still struck by the magnificence of it. Who’d have thought? Could she bring the sensations to him without full copulation? She hadn’t considered it while in the coach, but now the possibilities were invading her mind. Unfastening his trousers would be the first step, obviously, and then—­
    â€œAre you all right? You look like you’ve had a bit of a shock.”
    With a start she jerked away from the door, grateful to find her knees didn’t buckle. She bestowed upon Merrick a stern look. “I’m perfectly fine.”
    And she hoped that nothing in her face gave away what she had experienced in the coach. It was too personal, too intimate, too wondrous.
    â€œWill you be preparing for bed now?” he asked.
    She wasn’t certain she’d ever sleep again. “No, I’m going to visit with Harry for a bit if he’s still up.”
    He was, in the library sitting in a chair by the fireplace. The only light in the room was provided by the small fire dancing on the hearth. Holding a glass of amber liquid, he scrutinized her as she approached. She did hope the flush had left her skin, did hope she didn’t carry the fragrance of pleasure.
    Bending down, she