Devil in My Arms by Samantha Kane Page A

insisted on buying for her. They were so different from what she’d worn with Enderby.
    Suddenly a man stepped out from behind a tall bush and she gasped. Sir Hilary grinned, and his teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “It isn’t often I get to surprise you,” he said.
    “I do not like surprises,” she told him firmly, her heart hammering.
    He wrapped his arm around her, warming her as he urged her deeper into the garden. “Liar,” he said softly.
    He was right. This passion between them was a surprise. She’d thought she’d never want a man in any way, ever. But apparently Enderby had not ruined that for her. She let Sir Hilary lead her back to a secluded corner of the garden; there was a bench there, and a tree growing near the brick fence. He let go of her and leaned his back against the tree.
    “You are very quiet,” he observed, watching her closely. “That is unusual.”
    “Actually it is, or was, quite normal for me until recently.” She wanted to kick herself for bringing up the past, but it had been much on her mind as she slipped out for this assignation.
    “I like to listen to you talk.”
    “Do you?” she said, standing there awkwardly, cold again. “Did you bring me out here for more conversation?”
    “Conversation of another kind,” he answered, and there was something about his voice that made a shiver chase down her back. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. “But only if you’d like to … converse.”
    “I’m afraid this is a topic of discussion I’m unfamiliar with,” she said apologetically, glad to speak in euphemisms. She felt gauche and untried compared to his urbane sophistication. “This is my first assignation with a man in a garden.”
    “Then I had better make it a good one,” he said. “I’d hate to be the cause of your disappointment.”
    “Oh, good,” she said, relieved. “That means the duty is yours. I abdicate all responsibility.”
    He laughed, but it was low and seductive, and more than slightly dangerous to her peace of mind. She shivered again. “Duty? Hardly. This task will be pure indulgence.” He stretched out his hand and simply waited. She understood what he wanted. If she tookhis hand, she was giving him permission to do whatever it was he had in mind to do. If she didn’t, then this was an assignation that wasn’t. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and took his hand. It was perhaps the most courageous thing she’d ever done and she was rather proud of herself.
    He tugged gently, reeling her in, and she went, though she felt a little faint, probably from her racing heart and the fact that she was holding her breath. Instead of giving her the passionate embrace she’d been expecting, and fearing a little, too, he wrapped both arms around her and rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Better?” he asked quietly. “It’s cooler out here than I anticipated.”
    She nodded and hesitatingly rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I was cold.”
    “I’ll warm you up,” he said, and the innuendo was clear.
    “I have not been … warm, for some time,” she conceded, reassured that they were still using euphemisms and innuendo. “I wish you luck.”
    He chuckled, and she liked the feel of it rumbling against her chest and stomach where she was pressed to him. Inexplicably it relaxed her. “You challenge me at every turn. I like it.”
    For a moment she was assaulted by memories of all the times Enderby had found fault with her for challenging him. She blocked those thoughts, concentrating instead on the clean, fresh scent of Sir Hilary. She sniffed his jacket. “What is that scent?” she asked, changing the subject.
    “A new French scent for men only, by a fellow named Pinaud,” he said. “Do you like it? My acquaintances think I am a dandy for indulging.”
    “I like it,” she said, rubbing her nose on his jacket. She adored it. She adored him, actually, for not rushing her or belittling her inexperience.
    “May I kiss you