Barbara Pierce by Naughty by Nature Page B

face. The earl was unlike most gentlemen she had encountered over the years. He was confident, a tad arrogant, but there was a sweetness within him that people normally did not find in their superiors. True, Patience’s connection to the Farnalys balanced the scales. Still, it
was a fact he would never know. Never had she admired a man before for his ignorance.
    Ramscar reacted to the subtle softening of her expression. In wonderment, he gently cupped her face. She felt herself weakening, and like the true predators most men were, he sensed it. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head until their lips lightly collided. Like the kiss, his hold on her was just as delicate. Patience could easily step away.
    Step away.
    She closed her eyes. Only in her dreams had she experienced such tenderness. It was only a simple kiss. Why should she walk away?
    Ramscar nibbled her lower lip. Patience parted her lips and tilted her head upward, liking the sensation of his lips moving against hers. He responded by gliding the tip of his tongue over the sharp edges of her teeth. Emboldened, she tentatively tasted him. He growled his approval.
    “Put your hands on me,” he ordered gruffly before seizing her by the wrists and placing them on his shoulders. “Again.”
    There was no confusion in his intent. She had very little experience with kissing. Julian Phoenix had stolen a few kisses when he had been trying to coax her into running off with him. Once he had taken her away from the Farnalys, he had lost interest in such flirtations.

    Without asking permission, Ramscar plunged his tongue into her mouth. Instinctively, she curled hers around his. Using his tongue, he retreated, drawing her tongue into his mouth and deepening the kiss. Patience moaned against his mouth. The earl tasted like coffee and wickedness. Her arms circled around his neck of their own volition. The hands poised on her waist moved to her back and then down the curve of her buttocks.
    Cupping both cheeks, Ramscar pulled her tightly against him. It was as if he could not get close enough. It was a heady combination: that sinful mouth devouring her, while he created a delicious ache in her nether regions. How many ladies of the ton had surrendered their precious virtue just for a taste of his naughty play?
    The question doused her ardor.
    “No,” she panted against his cheek. She placed her palms on his chest and shoved him away. The earl abruptly released her, causing her to stagger back. “Forgive me.”
    She dared not confess more. Her response to his kisses frightened her. She whirled away from him and returned to the wooden bench. If she had continued to allow him to take liberties, she feared he would have had her on her knees while he pumped himself into her willing body.
    Just like my dream …

    She trembled. What upset her most was that she did not know if she quivered from fear or desire.
    Lord Ramscar cursed under his breath. “If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I should not have kissed you. I hired you for Meredith’s sake, not to warm my bed,” he said harshly.
    Patience winced at his honesty. “I am to blame, too. I should have stopped you sooner.” After a night of erotic dreaming, she had been curious to see if the man resembled her dream lover. It would have been better if Lord Ramscar had left her disappointed, instead of sensitive and aching.
    “Do not leave me.” Belatedly, realizing how she might misconstrue his words, he hurriedly added, “I need you to help me with Meredith. Without you, it will take a rope and mallet to get her to London.” He smiled encouragingly.
    Patience returned the smile, but it lacked sincerity. She was just too shaken to sort out her feelings. “Very well, Lord Ramscar. I will help you coax Lady Meredith to London.”
    A man like the earl belonged only in her dreams. In the flesh, he was just too tempting.
     
     
    The days at Swancott passed swiftly.
    Lord Ramscar was anxious to return