style="font-size:15px;"> She stared up at him. Her breath came quickly, mirroring the thundering of his own pulse. The heat between their bodies could start a conflagration that would raze the city.
God, how he wanted her.
One moment became another and another. He could see the thoughts racing behind her eyes, the calculation of risk against reward.
He prayed for her answer, craving it with a fierce intensity, yet fully prepared to walk away if she said no. The choice had to be hers.
Her gaze locked on his, and when she spoke, her words were firm and decisive.
“Yes.”
Lucia’s gaze moved over her buccaneer. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired and possessed spectacularly blue eyes, and his devastating handsomeness was like a weapon against which she could not defend herself. He had a clean, straight jaw and a very wicked, sensuous mouth.
“Yes?” he repeated.
“Yes,” she said once more. Her pulse sped with each word from her lips. “I’ll take you to my bed—for tonight alone.”
Am I making a mistake?
Sleeping with a guest had always been forbidden, even when Mrs. Chalke had run the club. And yet, for a year, Lucia and the buccaneer had circled each other, drawn by an irresistible pull. All this time, she’d fantasized about him. What his touch would feel like, how it would be to caress his bare skin, or discover his taste.
She’d resigned herself to never knowing the answer to these riddles. But after this night, she would never see him again. He’d said as much.
And tomorrow, she’d learn the fate of her club. Everything could come crashing down in less than twenty-four hours—the death of the establishment, the loss of employment for the twenty members of the staff, and the end of Lucia’s funding for the girls’ home.
The future was a morass of uncertainty. But tonight, just this once, she’d permit herself selfish pleasure.
No harm will come of this. There was no danger to her heart, no threat of a growing attachment. They would enjoy each other, and part company. She’d be safe.
His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. The look of pure desire on his face stoked her own need.
“I’ve a carriage out back,” he said.
“My rooms are just upstairs. No waiting.” No time to reconsider or question herself.
“Guide us there.”
With his fingers intertwined with hers, and her heart pounding, she led him to the foyer.
Elspeth rose from the low stool upon which she sat and stared at Lucia and the buccaneer’s joined hands. Her wide gaze flew to Lucia’s.
“I’m leaving everything in your hands for the rest of the night.” Lucia looked levelly at her friend, but knew her gaze held a note of entreaty.
Only for tonight. For this single time, I’m taking something that’s meant for me alone.
Perhaps Elspeth understood how much Lucia needed the solace and distraction of pleasure, because she nodded.
“Enjoy your evening,” Elspeth said.
Silently, Lucia exhaled. She offered Elspeth a small, grateful smile before leading her buccaneer up the main staircase. As they climbed the stairs, she was acutely aware of his presence behind her, and the burn of his flesh against hers from merely the press of hands. The steps creaked with his mass, reminding her of his size, so much larger than her, giving her a foretaste of his weight on her. A thrill danced along her limbs and centered between her legs, where she was alive and sensitized.
The main corridor upstairs was lit by a single candle. Lucia stopped outside her door, fitting the key into the lock. She trusted her friends and the staff, but never knew when an inquisitive guest might manage to find their way into the private rooms where she, Kitty, and Elspeth lived.
As she slid the key into place, her buccaneer pressed close behind her, nuzzling her neck. For a moment, she simply held herself still, absorbing his touch. Her eyes struggled to remain open, and her hand trembled. She couldn’t seem to unlock the door.
“You’re up here early.” Kitty’s voice broke through Lucia’s sensual haze. “I— Oh.”
Lucia looked down the hallway to see Kitty standing outside her room, jogging little Liam on her hip.
Behind Lucia, her buccaneer stilled but didn’t move away. His breath fanned warmly across her nape, making her breasts tighten.
A smile bloomed across Kitty’s face. “As you were, soldiers.” She saluted before disappearing into her room.
Alone, finally. Lucia opened the door to her chamber. Taking a breath, she stepped inside.
He followed at once, shutting the door behind him. She quickly locked it so no one would disturb them.
She leaned back, knowing full well that the movement pushed her breasts tightly against her gown’s curved neckline. A shameless, proud display.
He stepped closer, and her breasts brushed his broad, solid chest. This was the closest they had ever been to each other, and her whole body felt acutely sensitized, aware of every point of contact. His thighs against hers, their hips cradling together.
“Am I to have you, then?” he rumbled.
She adored the hint of an Irish accent in his words, yet would never know more about where he came from, or anything at all about him.
Here she was, in her room, with an intimate stranger. A man she knew well, yet not at all.
More, a voice within her cried. I need more than another meaningless fuck.
She forcibly shoved the unwanted thought away. It was so much easier to reduce her need for him to the craving of one body for another. Delving deeper and learning him made him too real, turning him from a fantasy into a fully developed person.
No. She shouldn’t crave that connection. It only led to pain and heartbreak.
“We are to have what we want,” she said in a murmur, looping her arms around his neck and bringing him down, closer to her. He cupped her waist, heat from his body seeping into hers.
This is all I want, she told herself, trying to quiet her demand for affinity. A good, hard fuck. Only that.
For a moment, they merely gazed at each other, their mouths hovering closely. Then, as her eyes drifted shut, their lips came together. Softly at first. A brush back and forth as they learned each other’s textures and the hints of their taste. His initial gentleness surprised her. She expected him to crash against her mouth and take, take, take. That was the way of most men. But not this
