Legendary Lover by Susan Johnson Page A

the absolute perfect place?" She softly sighed, moving her hips in the faintest of undulations.
    "Just lucky," he whispered, though luck had nothing to do with it. He flexed his hips upward again exactly the same way so her small moan warmed his cheek.
    "Maybe I won't let you go back to London for a long time," she said in a heated whisper.
    "Maybe I won't want to go back to London." He adjusted her minutely, holding her hips and pressing down slightly.
    "Oh, my God ..." Her voice trailed away in a delicate whimper.
    G§TE     HELPED    HER    DOWN     FROM    THE    CARRIAGE
    when they reached his thatched cottage, and after es -

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    corting her into the parlor, he left to dismiss his driver. Sam usually stayed above the stables when he came to the river, but Venus had indicated she was more comfortable alone, so he obliged. Returning shortly, he found her gazing out the leaded windows.
    "I can see why you like it here. The river is beautiful, peaceful. You're quite alone."
    "I like it even better now." He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. "You're the perfect addition to my paradise."
    She leaned back against his tall, strong body. "I'm very glad I decided to go to the Exhibition that day."
    "The fates were kind to lead me to you. Even though you refused me."
    "The notorious Lord Redvers wasn't my type. You turned out to be very different."
    He shrugged faintly. "There are certain presumptions in the fashionable world that aren't necessarily correct."
    She twisted around in his arms. "You don't deserve your reputation?"
    "Not particularly. A bachelor simply elicits a certain degree of gossip."
    Although a wealthy, handsome bachelor, adored by women of passion, no doubt merited the gossip. She gazed at him with a more exacting regard, as if she could separate truth from celebrity. The dissolving, golden light from the windows softened the contours of his face, an unobstructed purity of modeling suddenly revealed. "How old are you?" she abruptly inquired.
    "Old enough," he pleasantly said.
    "A precise answer , please." His lashes were extravagantly long, thick, and lacy, like those of a Botticelli youth.

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    "Twenty-four."
    She exhaled with relief. "You looked very young for a moment. I was hoping I'd not miscalculated."
    "Miscalculated?"
    "Your maturity."
    "Are you questioning my maturity?"
    "Only in an amorphous, within-the-bounds-of-convention way," she said with a smile.
    "Would I be mature enough to invite you into my bedroom?" he roguishly queried. "The view is equally good from there."
    "Don't tease. I'd just be uncomfortable if you were very young."
    "A little late for that, isn't it?" His eyes were amused. "Would you have gone back to London?"
    "Are you really twenty-four?" she quickly asked, his drollery disconcerting.
    "Peggy w "l vouch for me. But you'll not know for certain, will you, 'til we return. Will it be different fucking me, do you think?" he whispered, leaning down to lick her upper lip. "Come, see my bedroom, and we'll find out." He gently pushed her in its direction.
    "I should say no . . ."
    "If you could." He compelled her forward with a hand on her bottom.
    "Are you calling me wanton?" She cast a playful glance over her shoulder.
    "I certainly hope so." His grin was enchanting. "If mademoiselle would instruct and edify an innocent young man, I promise to be a diligent pupil."
    Spinning around, she tried to punch him.
    Laughing, he grabbed her fists and, lifting them to his

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    mouth , kissed her knuckles. "I've never played the innocent before."
    "That I believe." She jerked her hands away. "Now behave or I'll go home."
    "And miss fucking me for days on end . . ."
    The insinuating heat, the delicious promise in his words stirred her senses, whetted her impetuous passions, riveted all her quickening attention.
    "That's what I thought," he whispered, trailing his finger up her throat, over her jaw, along her cheek, following the rising flush pinking her delicate