Passion for Him

were built differently, their voices were inflected with dissimilar accents, and their strides boasted different kinds of confidence. Colin had a bit of a stomp, as if to forcibly establish his presence. Montoya had sultriness to his gait, a more understated way of defining his dominance.

But in their mulish determination to set her aside, they were the same. As a young girl, she’d no choice but to tolerate it. That was not the case now.

“As you wish,” she said, moving toward him with a deliberate swaying of her hips. “If it is so easy for you to walk away and leave me behind, it would be best if you go.”

“I did not say it would be easy,” he bit out.

Amelia set her hand atop his where it gripped the knob. “Good-bye, Count Montoya.”

He turned his head, and she lunged, pressing her lips to his. He froze, and she took the advantage, tilting her head to deepen the contact. His breathing grew labored, his skin hot. Still, he did not move. She was unsure of how to proceed, and without his participation the kiss became awkward. Then she thought perhaps she was overthinking the thing.

Closing her eyes, Amelia allowed instinct to take over. Her hands settled lightly upon his tense shoulders, and he shuddered. She licked his lower lip, and he groaned. Her stomach churned madly with delight and fear. What if they were caught? How would she explain?

Then she did not care because it was too delicious taking him as she wanted. He did nothing to help her, but he did nothing to stop her either. Stretching her arms up, she reached behind him and tugged off her glove; then she curled her fingers around his nape. The moment their bare skin touched she was lost to him. His mouth opened on a gasp, and she pushed her tongue inside, licking the taste of him as she would a favorite treat. She tugged on his queue, and he growled.

His tongue stroked along hers, a practiced, smooth glide that made her moan into his mouth. The tiny sound broke him. He moved so quickly, she barely registered it. The next she knew, she was pinned to the door by over six feet of aroused male, and he was kissing her back, ardently and possessively.

“Damn you,” he cursed in a harsh whisper. “I can’t have you.”

“You will not even try!”

“I have done nothing but try. Nothing. That does not change the fact that my circumstances make me unsuitable and dangerous for you.”

Montoya cupped her nape and slanted his mouth hungrily over hers. It was a dark kiss, rife with sensual intent. Delicious. She sagged into the door and took it, all of it. Every thrust of his tongue, every nibble of his teeth, every caress of his beautiful lips. She took it and begged for more with pleading whimpers that drove his fervency to greater heights.

There was a mask between them and endless secrets. There was the wall that existed between strangers who shared nothing of each other beyond a single moment in time, yet the connection she felt with him was there, threading through all of that.

Was it mere lust? How could it be when she could not see all of him? But this thrumming in her veins, the ache in her breasts, the dampness between her thighs…Lust was there, part of the greater whole.

“Amelia,” he breathed roughly, his warm breath gusting across her damp skin. His parted lips drifted across her face, from jaw to cheekbone. Then higher. “I want to strip you bare, lay you on my bed, and kiss you all over.”

She shivered, both at the serrated way he said her name and the images his words invoked in her mind. “Reynaldo.”

“I must leave Town or that will happen, and I cannot lay claim to you if we progress that far. Not now.”

“When?” Tormented by yearning and a body that was wracked with unappeased desire, she would promise anything in this moment to see him again.

“You have Ware, a friend of long acquaintance who can give you things that I cannot.”

“Perhaps you and I can be friends.”

“You do not know me well enough to say that.”

“I want to know you.” Her voice was a throaty purr. Never in her life had she sounded like that, and it affected him. She could tell by the way he wrapped himself around her in an even tighter embrace. “I would like you to know me.”

He pulled back, and she realized she found the mask attractive. Arousing. How odd, but true, nevertheless. She did not find it alarming, but rather comforting. She felt too open, and the sight of the mask shielded her as well as him.

“The only thing you need to know about me,” he said in a rasp, “is that there are those who want me dead.”

“Such a statement might frighten other women away,” she retorted, tugging his mouth back down to hers, “but I live with people who have similar problems. Some would say I live a similar circumstance simply by association.”

“You won’t change my mind,” he grumbled, licking at her parted lips, his body acting in opposition to his words.

“I was attempting to leave the room; you detained me.”

“You kissed me!” he accused.

Amelia shrugged. “Your mouth was in the way. I could not avoid it.”

“You are trouble.” Bending his head, he kissed her one last time. Softer. Lingering. Her toes curled in her slippers. “Now, we must part, before we are discovered.”

She nodded, knowing it was true, understanding that she had been absent far too long. “When will I see you again?”

“I cannot say. After your wedding, perhaps. Maybe never.”

“Why?” She’d asked that question endlessly tonight and still couldn’t collect the answer. Did he not understand how precious it was to feel this alive around another being? She had not realized that she was dormant until she’d met him.

“Because Ware can give you things that I cannot.”

She was about to retort, when the doorknob jiggled. Her breath caught and held. She froze. Montoya did not.

He moved quickly, pulling back from her and fading again into the shadowy corner. She stumbled away from the door when it pushed open behind her. Turning, Amelia faced the intruding party.

“My lord,” she breathed, curtsying.

Ware entered with a frown. “What are you doing in here? I have been searching the house for you.” He studied her carefully; then his jaw tautened. “You have something to tell me, don’t you?”

She nodded and held a shaking hand out to him. He took it and drew her out of the room, pausing a moment to sweep the contents with his gaze. Finding nothing amiss, he led her away from Montoya and into a future that was far less orderly than it had been mere days ago.

Chapter 6

“So that is the whole of it,” Amelia said, her fingers fidgeting with her teaspoon.

The Earl of Ware reached over and stilled his fiancee’s restless movement by covering her hand with his own. “No need to be nervous,” he murmured, his mind sifting through everything she had related.

“You are not angry?” Her green eyes were wide with a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

“I am not pleased, but I am not angry.” He smiled ruefully and settled back more firmly in his chair.

They were seated on the terrace of the St. John house, enjoying tea before their customary ride through the park. It was with some trepidation that he had passed the hours waiting to speak with her. He knew what a woman looked like after a heated assignation, so while Amelia’s revelation was in keeping with his own suspicions, he was sorry to have them confirmed.

“I do not know what to do,” she said, sounding forlorn. “I fear I am out of my depth.”

“And I fear I am not going to be much help,” he admitted. “We are friends, love, but I am a man first and