away from the table, forcing her to cling to him instead. Startled, she broke the kiss, managing a feeble protest as she grasped the folds of his heavy doublet and buried her face against his shoulder. But he was not deterred. He tilted his head and continued his explorations, trailing kisses along her throat, tasting her skin.
His teeth grazed her earlobe, and she shivered. She felt his arms wrap around her, crushing her breasts against his chest, imprisoning her body against the hard length of his. She bunched the fabric of his costume more tightly in her fists. "Oh, please," she gasped, her words muffled by the soft velvet. "My lord, you must stop."
"Must I?" he murmured against her ear, his warm breath sending shivers through her. "Why?"
"The door into the hall is wide open. Someone might see us."
"But doesn't that sort of risk make it all the more exciting?" he asked. "Consider this your first adventure with me, an adventure in kissing. Wasn't that what you wanted the first night we met?" His lips brushed the sensitive skin of her ear as he spoke. "Wasn't it?"
"Yes," she confessed in a ragged whisper, shaken by the maelstrom of feelings he was arousing in her. "But the guests will begin arriving at any moment. This has to stop." Even as she spoke, her arms slid up around his neck, and she clung to him.
"You haven't given me an answer." He pulled back and grasped her chin in his fingers, lifting her face to look into her eyes. "Before you decide, know this. I have every intention of using our time together to my advantage."
"What do you mean?"
He brushed his thumb slowly back and forth across her lower lip. "I mean that I intend to seduce you."
Margaret stiffened in his hold, coming out of the sensuous haze, once again cognizant of danger. She tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her waist, holding her fast. "You presume a great deal, Ashton," she whispered.
"On the contrary, I presume nothing. I am simply telling you my intentions. I see no need to hide them."
He slid one hand to the nape of her neck, and once again she tried to pull away, but he tangled his fingers in the knot of her hair, imprisoning her. He tilted his head and kissed the base of her throat. "I have already told you," she said breathlessly, "I won't marry you."
He began nibbling on her earlobe. "Did I say anything about marriage?"
"No, but I can't think of any other reason why you would say such things."
"Can you not?" He laughed softly, nuzzling her ear. "I can."
Lost in the sensations he was evoking with his hands and his mouth, she could feel reason and control slipping away, and she fought to regain them. She wedged her arms between them. It wasn't much of a barrier, but it was all she could manage when she felt her knees buckling. "Stop," she gasped. "Oh, please, stop."
He immediately pulled back, but he kept one arm around her waist. "Your wish is my command."
She opened her eyes and stared at her hands, which were clenched into fists around the velvet folds of his doublet. She could hear her agitated breathing and the frantic thump of her heart, and she could not think of a single thing to say.
"Well, Maggie?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Will you come out with me for Carnival?"
Margaret looked up at him. Ashton was a rake, a gentleman only in name, and he could very well be a fortune hunter. What he proposed was dangerous and entailed serious risk to her reputation. Yet, even as she considered all the possible ramifications, she knew what her answer would be. Such a chance might never come her way again. Tempted beyond reason, she nodded quickly before she could change her mind. "Yes," she said. "I agree."
"Good. Tomorrow night at the Duchess of Arbuthnot's ball, we'll make our final plans. Reserve a waltz for me." He stepped back and let her go, smiling as he looked at her.
"What are you smiling about?"
"You are a bit mussed," he said, lifting one hand to smooth her hair. "You look like a woman who has been
His teeth grazed her earlobe, and she shivered. She felt his arms wrap around her, crushing her breasts against his chest, imprisoning her body against the hard length of his. She bunched the fabric of his costume more tightly in her fists. "Oh, please," she gasped, her words muffled by the soft velvet. "My lord, you must stop."
"Must I?" he murmured against her ear, his warm breath sending shivers through her. "Why?"
"The door into the hall is wide open. Someone might see us."
"But doesn't that sort of risk make it all the more exciting?" he asked. "Consider this your first adventure with me, an adventure in kissing. Wasn't that what you wanted the first night we met?" His lips brushed the sensitive skin of her ear as he spoke. "Wasn't it?"
"Yes," she confessed in a ragged whisper, shaken by the maelstrom of feelings he was arousing in her. "But the guests will begin arriving at any moment. This has to stop." Even as she spoke, her arms slid up around his neck, and she clung to him.
"You haven't given me an answer." He pulled back and grasped her chin in his fingers, lifting her face to look into her eyes. "Before you decide, know this. I have every intention of using our time together to my advantage."
"What do you mean?"
He brushed his thumb slowly back and forth across her lower lip. "I mean that I intend to seduce you."
Margaret stiffened in his hold, coming out of the sensuous haze, once again cognizant of danger. She tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her waist, holding her fast. "You presume a great deal, Ashton," she whispered.
"On the contrary, I presume nothing. I am simply telling you my intentions. I see no need to hide them."
He slid one hand to the nape of her neck, and once again she tried to pull away, but he tangled his fingers in the knot of her hair, imprisoning her. He tilted his head and kissed the base of her throat. "I have already told you," she said breathlessly, "I won't marry you."
He began nibbling on her earlobe. "Did I say anything about marriage?"
"No, but I can't think of any other reason why you would say such things."
"Can you not?" He laughed softly, nuzzling her ear. "I can."
Lost in the sensations he was evoking with his hands and his mouth, she could feel reason and control slipping away, and she fought to regain them. She wedged her arms between them. It wasn't much of a barrier, but it was all she could manage when she felt her knees buckling. "Stop," she gasped. "Oh, please, stop."
He immediately pulled back, but he kept one arm around her waist. "Your wish is my command."
She opened her eyes and stared at her hands, which were clenched into fists around the velvet folds of his doublet. She could hear her agitated breathing and the frantic thump of her heart, and she could not think of a single thing to say.
"Well, Maggie?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Will you come out with me for Carnival?"
Margaret looked up at him. Ashton was a rake, a gentleman only in name, and he could very well be a fortune hunter. What he proposed was dangerous and entailed serious risk to her reputation. Yet, even as she considered all the possible ramifications, she knew what her answer would be. Such a chance might never come her way again. Tempted beyond reason, she nodded quickly before she could change her mind. "Yes," she said. "I agree."
"Good. Tomorrow night at the Duchess of Arbuthnot's ball, we'll make our final plans. Reserve a waltz for me." He stepped back and let her go, smiling as he looked at her.
"What are you smiling about?"
"You are a bit mussed," he said, lifting one hand to smooth her hair. "You look like a woman who has been
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