The Bride Thief

boredom is not a feeling you have ever once inspired in me. And you are not lacking, Samantha. In any way.'

He again sensed her blush, and she glanced downward. 'I couldn't help but notice that you withdrew before you…'

'I promised you I would.' And you have no idea how the effort nearly killed me.

Raising her gaze to his, she whispered, 'I didn't realize that a man's seed was so… warm.'

Warm? Hell, scalding was closer to the truth. He'd felt hot enough to heat the entire damn lake. Just recalling the sensation of her wrapped around him, his flesh buried deep inside her, pumped renewed desire through him.

'I think we'd best exit the lake before we become waterlogged.' Before I make love to you again. 'I hadn't meant to make love to you for the first time in the water?'

Interest flared in her eyes. 'Oh? What had you planned?'

'Bringing you to a small lodge on my property.' He gazed into her eyes, and his blood stirred. 'Would you like to accompany me there now?'

She only said one word, but it was the only word he wanted to hear.

'Yes.'

Chapter Sixteen

From the London Times:

The Bride Thief Posse now hails nearly five hundred members, and the price on the Bride Thief's head has grown to ten thousand pounds. There is nowhere in England the Thief can hide now. His days are well and truly numbered.

The following morning, before joining her parents and Hubert in the breakfast room, Sammie peered at herself in the cheval glass in her bedchamber.

How was it possible that she looked the same when everything was so completely, irrevocably different! How could it be that all the extraordinary things she was feeling on the inside did not show on the outside, except perhaps for the color staining her cheeks?

Hugging her arms around herself, she closed her eyes, allowing memories from last night to wash over her. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the intimacies she and Eric had shared, first at the lake, then at his lodge. The indescribable sensation of lying naked before a man who slowly explored her body with his hands and lips, eliciting a passion in her that she had never suspected herself capable of.

Then, the sheer beauty of exploring his naked body in return as he reclined before the hearth, the fire's glow illuminating a fascinating display of masculine planes and muscles. Endless caresses and whispering as he taught her how to please him, and discovered what pleased her. Long, slow, deep kisses that touched her soul. It had indeed been the adventure of her life… yet so much more.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the unremarkable woman reflected in the glass. What did he see in her? He'd worshipped her last night as if she were a queen, yet there was no denying a man like him could have any woman he wanted. For right now, incredible as it was, he wanted her.

But for how long?

Don't think about it, her heart warned, but her mind refused to listen. She'd be a fool to entertain the notion that she could hold his interest for any length of time. How long before he tired of her? A week? A month? Sharp pain knifed through her at the thought of them parting company. Of never seeing him again. Or worse, seeing him and having to pretend that nothing had ever passed between them. Knowing that he was enjoying the intimacies they'd shared with another woman.

Waves of helpless jealousy washed over her at the thought of him caressing another woman… of someone else touching him. Arousing him. Pleasing him. She pressed her hands to her stomach and fought back the hot tears that pooled behind her eyes, valiantly trying to banish the thought before her heart broke in two. You fool, This was supposed to be an adventure. And look what you've done. You've fallen in love with him.

Why hadn't she warned herself against such a disastrous occurrence? Prepared herself? Why hadn't it occurred to her how utterly logical it was for her to lose her heart to him? He not only possessed every trait she admired in a person, he filled every corner of her mind with romantic dreams that she should dismiss as ridiculous and illogical, but that instead suffused her with… love.

A strangled sound erupted from her throat, and she staggered the few steps to her escritoire, dropping down into the hard wooden chair. She tried to deny her inner voice's words, but there was no point. She loved him. Helplessly. Hopelessly. So many 'h' words to describe my feelings for him. And of course there was one more 'h' word-the one that would describe her when their affair ended.

Heartbroken.

He would continue on to the next woman, and she would be left with nothing more than the memories of their time together, for she could not envision ever taking another lover. Not when her heart and soul belonged to Eric.

Rising, she paced the length of the room. The longer she allowed their liaison to continue, the worse her heartbreak would be when it ended. She knew with sinking finality that she would only fall deeper in love with him- and she wouldn't be able to bide her feelings from him for she was not a good actress.

She paused in her pacing and buried her face in her hands. Dear God, how humiliating if he knew… if he pitied her for her hopeless feelings. But what else could he do except pity her? There was no chance that he would return her feelings. He might treat her kindly, hold her in some affection, but he would never fall in love with her. Never want to marry her and spend his life with her. His earlier words reverberated through her mind. I've no intention of ever marrying.

She'd had no desire to marry either, a decision that had been simple to accept before today. Why would she wish to spend her life with someone who did not respect her dedication to her scientific studies? She hoped to someday make an important contribution to medicine with her honey cream-something Eric did respect. Now, for the first time, she could see that she would not have to give up her dreams in order to appease a man.

But the man she wanted had made his aversion to marriage very clear. Why did he feel so strongly about it? She shook her head. Although she was curious, in the end his reasons did not matter. He did not wish to marry, and that was that. And even if he should some day change his mind, he would of course choose a beautiful, young wife from the peerage.

Her common sense told her to end things between them. Immediately. Before she further risked her heart. But her heart rebelled, urging her to grasp whatever time she could with him, and to enjoy it while it lasted. She'd have a lifetime to mend her heart.

Perhaps. Yet she suspected her heart would never mend. And she could never bear his pity. And she'd never successfully hide her feelings from him. For her own sake, to save herself from falling so far in love with him that she would never recover, she had to end their affair.

Still, she could not bear the thought of not seeing him one more time. She had to hold him, touch him, just once more. To store up the memories that would have to last her for all the empty, lonely nights ahead. They'd agreed to meet again tonight, at the garden gate at eleven o'clock, then depart for his lodge. She would cherish him one more time, then pray she'd find the strength to let him go.

Eric stood in front of the windows in his private study, sipping his morning coffee. His gaze wandered to the mantel clock and a wry smile twisted his lips. Exactly three minutes had passed since he'd last checked the time.

Fourteen hours until he saw her again. No, actually fourteen hours and thirty-seven minutes. How the hell was he going to fill the time? He glanced at his desk. Several dozen pieces of correspondence required his attention, as did the accounts for his Norfolk estate.