“No, no, I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh full of regret. That little blunder had cleared her head. She should not go about kissing anyone. That part of her life had been over before it had ever begun.
“Here, let me see.” He caught her chin and turned her face toward him. He gently examined her forehead. “Not even a red spot. Does it hurt?”
“Not very much,” she admitted. “Mostly my pride. You?”
“Not at all now.” He was still holding her chin in his hand. “Please let me try that again,” he said with a gentle twinkle in his eyes.
“What about our agreement to be friends?” she asked, tilting her face up. How could this man make her so hopelessly full of dangerous desire?
“I never agreed to only be friends. I said that I would not seduce you. You are seducing me, if truth be told. I’m quite powerless in your hands, Miss Talleyrand.”
“Sabrina, please.” She needed him to say her name. She wanted to let her fantasies run away with her, that he was indeed her mystery man who’d saved her and given her something magical that she would never forget. A night of love beneath the stars . . .
“Sabrina,” he whispered her name in that husky voice potent with yearning and midnight hunger.
Then he kissed her, and it was everything she had hoped it would be. Peregrine wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she sighed in delight against his mouth.
“Open your lips for me,” he said.
She trembled in his arms. It had to be him, her masked mystery man from Lady Germain’s ball. She did as she had that night and parted her lips. He cupped the back of her head, and his hand threaded through her loose hair until he pulled on the strands just enough to let her feel how in control he was at the moment, but she wasn’t afraid. She felt protected and cherished with him, just as she had that night at the ball.
She curled her arms around his neck, holding him close as she gave in to her building desires. It merged with her longing for the masked man she had seduced at the ball until it became this one perfect moment.
I really am the seducer.
The thought made her giggle a little as their lips broke apart. He grinned down at her, seeing her amusement.
“What is it?” he asked. His fingers massaged the back of her neck, removing the last bit of tension in her muscles.
“It’s nothing. Please don’t stop kissing me.” She pulled his head back down to hers.
They stayed like that for a long while, kissing by the firelight until she thought she might forget her very self and never leave that room or his embrace again.
He lifted her up onto the nearest reading table, putting her mouth at a closer height to his own. She gasped as he slid his hands up her thighs, pushing her skirts up to her hips so he could step between her spread legs. Then he dragged her closer to him, pressing her body tightly to his own. The hardness of his arousal pressed against her core, but he didn’t claim her. He simply kissed her and held her, his hands roving and exploring her thoroughly.
“Peregrine,” she whispered against his lips.
“Yes?”
“Please touch me . . .” She wanted his hand between her legs. She knew what pleasure could come from his touch, and she craved it so madly that she thought she would die if he refused her.
“Touch you?” He slid his hand down her side, brushing his palm over the curve of her hip until he reached between her legs. “Like this?” he asked, his voice rough with passion as he traced a fingertip around her wet folds.
“Yes, there!”
He didn’t hesitate. He entered her with that finger, gentle at first, then more firmly until she was pushing to get closer. His mouth on her lips was hard now, hungry and almost violent in a way that made her feel wild. There was no worry outside of this moment, no concern for tomorrow. There was only him touching her, him kissing her . . .
The climax caught her so suddenly that she cried out. He drowned the sound with his lips over hers, and she melted into him, boneless and free. He held her, still kissing her, but his lips softened into sweet, fluttering presses that made her heart quiver.
“You are beautiful when you come apart,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed her temple and held her as her trembling aftershocks faded. There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him, yet she could say not one.
By the time she crawled into bed, her arms full of books he had brought her, she was grinning like a fool, her heart warm and her mind dizzy. She was certain she had found her mystery lover, but she could never tell him. All she could do was enjoy what time she had left with him before they parted ways again.
She decided she would take a chance, let herself enjoy this small pleasure while she could. It was not as though she had a future marriage to worry about. As long as she didn’t allow it to interfere with her minding of Isla or bring scandal to Rafe, she could have some passion before surrendering to a loveless life.
Tonight, she would only think of Peregrine and the way the fire had lit up his tawny eyes, so like the falcon for which he was named, and how she had been completely and utterly lost in them.
10
At luncheon, Peregrine was still grinning like an idiot at the dining room table. Last night had been wonderful. Sitting and talking with Sabrina, holding her in his arms, he had felt like he was back at Lady Germain’s again. Somehow lightning had managed to strike twice. He hadn’t thought it possible to feel the same unimaginable passion with another woman after he’d made love to that mysterious fae queen beneath the stars.
Yet Sabrina had brought that feeling of magic back to him. That was what he’d been missing in life these last several months. The aching loneliness he felt as the Earl of Rutland had not only been tempered but was fading the more he thought of Sabrina.
“Had your fill of canaries, have we?” Rafe asked as Peregrine filled his plate with food.
Peregrine sat down across from Rafe. “Canaries?”
“You look like a satisfied tomcat who’s eaten a few too many plump little birds.”
Peregrine’s good humor waned a bit. “No, I slept well for the first time in months, that’s all.”
Rafe gave an unconvinced harrumph. “Well, you’d be wise to stay on your best behavior,” he reminded him.
The door to the dining room opened, and a stream of ladies came in. The last to enter was Sabrina, who held Isla by the hand. Peregrine stared at the lovely green gown she wore, gathered at the back by a dark-blue satin sash. The gown itself was the shade of summer grass on a perfectly manicured lawn. Her dark hair was pulled back with a ribbon at the base of her neck rather than pulled up in the current style. She led Isla over to a chair beside Rafe, then sat on Isla’s other side.
“Afternoon, my darling.” Rafe chucked his daughter under the chin, his open smile clearly full of love for his child.
“Good afternoon, Papa.” Isla greeted him with a grin as big as her father’s.
“We are to have a scavenger hunt this afternoon,” Zehra announced when the last of the guests arrived in the dining room for lunch. Several of the men at the table grumbled, and Lawrence stood up.
“Now, now, we’re going to make it interesting. First, there will be random pairings. I will put all of our names upon slips of paper and draw them out of a bowl. The winners will be awarded a new colt from Viscount Sheridan’s stables. A thoroughbred born by one of his Arabian mares. She had twins, and he was gracious enough to offer one of them to the winners. I will send word to him in London naming the lucky pair. The winning pair can work out the ownership of the foal between them.”