“Just a taste…” he purred as he pulled away. He had barelygiven her a chance to catch her breath before resuming hispurposeful steps, flashing her a devilish smile over hisshoulder.
“Come along, young miss, our transportation awaits.”Practically running, he led the way onto the awaiting river bus. Hehelped her into the bench seat first so she would have a betterview of the passing sights. He then followed her in and sat snugbeside her. When she naturally leaned into him, he draped his armaround her and held her upright before she could slide out of theslippery bench seats.
“Oops…” She giggled, attempting to straighten up.
“Quite weak in the knees, aren’t you?”
“Well, if I am, it’s all your doing.” She gave him a lazysmile. “All that wine.”
“Just the wine?” He took hold of her chin, turned her face tohim and kissed her once again, this time with full-on tongue,mingling rather forcefully with her own. When she moaned, hechuckled deep within his chest and backed away, nipping her bottomlip as he did so. “How about now?”
She couldn’tquite respond, he had once again taken her breath away. With thatteasing look he gave her now, he had her body buzzing with want.She had no doubt she was way in over her head with the handsomelusty Goth, but she was damn well willing to let him do hisworst.
Still smilinglike a scoundrel at her, he gently spun her skull around so shefaced the window. “You don’t want to miss the sights. You’ll beseeing plenty of me soon enough.”
Oh my, did he just say that? Speechless, and more than a little hot and bothered, Gwen tookhis advice. She watched the scenery along the Thames as theypassed. It was nighttime, but the moon was full and bright. Verymuch aware of Crispin’s arm around her, and his other hand on herthigh, she tried to take it all in. It was quite captivating andbeautiful with the modern architecture alongside the old. Theypassed the London Eye, the city’s giant ferris wheel and were nowapproaching the Houses of Parliament. As the river bus pulled in atWestminster Pier, Crispin gave her a squeeze to signal they hadarrived at their stop.
Nearing eleveno’clock, it had gotten significantly cooler and the air by theriver was a little damp. But that did nothing to dampen Gwen’sspirits, especially when she reached the top of the steps and wasgreeted by the sight of Big Ben all lit up against the night sky.Dazzled by the iconic clock tower atop the awe-inspiring Houses ofParliament, Gwen could only grasp Crispin’s hand and stare. Andthen if the sight weren’t gorgeous enough, it started to chime andshe let out a small squeal of delight when the sound resonatedthroughout her body.
“Quite something, isn’t it?” Crispin said, equally impressedwith the magnificent Gothic structure. “Seriously, I should havebeen born in this country, such a spectacular Gothic work ofart!”
“If I hadn’t met you before now, I would have assumed you wereborn here,” Gwen said, looking from him to the jaw-droppingscenery. “Back in the day, of course. You would have fit inperfectly among all this.”
At heradmission, he chuckled and started to walk, hoping to make theirway back to the inn before long. They could grab a taxi but the innwasn’t far and they were both in the mood for a stroll. Quitechuffed under the spell of it all, he tugged her into him as theywalked and planted a loud smack of a kiss on her cheek. “Tell mesomething,” he said when she giggled. “Who exactly am I toyou?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, which character from which of your drippy romancenovels am I?”
She halted inher steps and furrowed her brow, her mind racing. “I don’t readdrippy romance novels. I read classic English literature. VictorianEra books such as Wuthering Heights, and Jayne Eyre are mypreference. But I suppose, I do enjoy the occasional Regencyromance like Jane Austen novels,” she admitted with a fondsmile.
“Oh, is that so? Well, pardon me,” he said with mockindignation. But he was determined to get an answer to hisquestion. “So? Who am I then? Heathcliff, Rochester, Mr. Darcy orJack the Ripper?” He laughed when she blushed and turned away,obviously embarrassed.
“Well, not Jack the Ripper,” she answered ruefully. “At least,I hope not.” They soon left the touristy area behind and thenturned onto a quieter street lined with Georgian style townhouseson one side. The side on which they walked was flanked by a wroughtiron fence.
“Definitely not that guy,” he said, giving her hand areassuring squeeze. “But you haven’t answered myquestion.”
“What question?” She feigned ignorance, but he would not haveit.
“Which one am I?” He stepped in front of her and walkedbackwards a few steps.
“Crispin! This is ridiculous.” She giggled, too self-consciousto say anything else. How did he even know she thought of him thatway? She hadn’t told him.
“Come on, don’t act all innocent,” he said, getting a kick outof her bashfulness. “You know exactly what I’m referring to.Besides, I heard you in your sleep. You called me Heathcliff once.A little bit later, I was Mr. Rochester, or was it Edward?” Hetapped his chin with his fingers then snapped them. “That’s it,Edward. You called me Edward. Yet again an hour or so later, Isomehow travelled through time and became Mr. Darcy.” He smiled atthe look of utter disbelief on her face and slowed hissteps.
“What?” she gasped in disbelief. He had to be joking. “I didnot! Oh, God, did I really say all that?” She tried to walk aroundhim but he blocked her.
“And then some,” he added. “And let’s not even get into all thegroping I had to endure through it all.”
“No way!” she sputtered and laughed as a rush of blood filledher cheeks.
He leaned inreal close. “Oh, yes, let’s just say, I had to use every last ounceof willpower not to make your dreams come true while I fucked youin your sleep.”
At his
