Susan Stephens

Susan Stephens Selection: The French Count's Mistress / The Spaniard's Revenge / Virgin for Sale / Bedded by the Desert King


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the rebuke in a fierce, teasing voice.

      He was so close she could see the tiny aquamarine flecks in his dazzling grey eyes—so close they seemed to share the same breath, the same air. ‘Take advantage of you!’ Kate gasped, knowing she was pinned so securely he could do anything with her he liked. ‘Let me go—let me go!’ she exclaimed, fighting to stop her gaze lingering on his mouth. But he had captured her wrists in one hand, whilst his other posed a delicious threat as it hovered over her, reducing her to writhing on the ground, to his obvious entertainment.

      ‘How can I let you go?’ he said, as if there might have been the slightest chance he would. ‘Wild-cats must be tamed.’

      With a throaty explosion of frustration made sound, she lay still.

      Guy’s eyes mirrored his thought processes, Kate realised as she watched a kaleidoscopic display of infinitesimal changes taking place in their silvery depths. So when his gaze darkened she knew the cause. The girl was left behind at last as he saw her as the woman she had become. It was an awakening for him, a revelation that brought a softening to his features Kate had never seen before. Releasing her, he took her face in his hands. The stillness surrounding them seemed absolute, as if all nature held its breath. And then, as if to endorse his discovery, Guy lowered his head and pressed the firm cushion of his lips against her slightly open mouth. It was at once the most sensitive and the most sensuous experience Kate had ever known.

      ‘Is that what you wanted, Kate?’ he murmured, lifting his head away without making the slightest attempt to deepen the kiss. ‘Or perhaps this…ceci?’ As his hands moved to feather caresses on either side of her neck she drew in a sharp breath, but now he was trailing his fingertips over every curve and indentation of her naked shoulders. Through it all he watched intently as she tried vainly to curb the betraying movement of her hips. ‘Perhaps not,’ he murmured as his gaze shifted to her erect nipples competing for his attention beneath the clinging blouse.

      Through the miasma of arousal Kate was aware she had him in her sway. The game was far from over yet. Willing ice through her veins, she managed somehow to sit up. Her gaze was an outright challenge. She watched in triumph as Guy failed to keep his gaze level. It strayed to the ruby upthrust of nipples taunting him from beneath the revealing, wet fabric. But, just as she was complimenting herself on reclaiming the advantage, he threw back his head and gave a laugh that rippled through her body like a seismic tremor.

      ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet Kate?’ he murmured, maintaining a tantalising distance between them.

      ‘What do you mean?’ In spite of Kate’s attempt to launch herself back into the fray, her voice sounded about as steady as a feather on a breath of wind. ‘I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.’

      ‘Then allow me to enlighten you,’ Guy murmured as he wound a damp tendril of Titian hair round his finger like a tether. ‘I think you’d like to see me lose control…bend to your will…serve you like some plundering stallion.’

      ‘No!’ His suggestion was outrageous—and so was its effect on her senses. Before she had a chance to recover he captured her chin in his hand.

      ‘I disagree,’ he said in low, harsh tone. ‘I think that’s exactly what you’d like me to do. Mais—’ He shook his head in mock-regret. ‘It isn’t going to be like that, Kate.’ Then, keeping her trapped in his gaze, he kissed her—just a frustrating brush of his lips accompanied by a sharp warning sound of denial when she tried to urge him on. ‘My way,’ he insisted softly when she sighed her complaint. ‘Or no way.’ But his way was gathering strength all the time, and a soft moan escaped Kate’s throat when a deep throb of pleasure accompanied his tongue’s possession of her mouth. Refusing her the firmer touch of his hands, Guy continued to ravish her mouth with a skill that left her weak, plunging and withdrawing in a provocative game of advance and retreat that effortlessly crowned her own inexpert tactics. ‘Better, Kate?’ he murmured sardonically as he lifted his head. ‘Or still not quite enough for you?’

      ‘I think you know the answer to that,’ she said huskily against the corner of his mouth, moulding herself to him when he kissed her again.

      As if he could not bear to be removed from her lips for a moment, Guy helped her to take off the sodden blouse while they kissed. As soon as she was free his hands moved to claim her breasts. Then, swinging down flat on the ground, he brought her on top of him, still holding her away so that her tortured nipples were only inches from his face. ‘Now feed me,’ he ordered softly, his sweeping sable brows lifting in sardonic challenge. Gently and slowly he brought her down until Kate could feed one engorged tip between his lips. He took the other side himself, rolling the sensitive bud over and over between his tongue and his lips until she thought she’d go mad for him. But he showed her no mercy at all and only brought her legs round to straddle him so that she felt the unmistakable heat and thrust of his erection pulsing against her. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.

      But the moment he moved her skirt, she said, ‘No!’ and flinched back.

      ‘Non?’ Guy queried softly, hearing the panic in her voice.

      ‘No, I can’t… I just can’t.’ Shaking her head, Kate pulled away from him. Going to sit on her own a few feet away she drew her knees up and, wrapping her arms around them, she buried her face in her lap.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ Guy said, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. ‘Tell me, Kate. What’s the matter?’

      ‘I just can’t, that’s all,’ she said, burying her face deeper.

      ‘Look at me,’ he insisted gently. ‘Non, Kate,’ he said sharply when she turned away. ‘Look at me, Kate. Don’t turn away. Something’s upset you and you must tell me what it is.’

      Still with her head buried on her knees, she turned her face just enough to mutter, ‘My damaged leg—it’s ugly.’

      Guy stayed very still for a few moments then gently brought her round to face him. ‘Kate, Kate, courageous Kate,’ he murmured tenderly, ‘let me assure you that there is not one part of you I could possibly find ugly.’

      ‘There is,’ she argued, her eyes clouding with certainty.

      ‘Show me,’ he said simply.

      ‘I can’t.’

      Laying her down flat on the ground beside him, Guy peeled back the soaking skirt to expose a scar that snaked down her left leg almost to the knee.

      ‘I had to have a plate put in after the accident,’ Kate explained tonelessly. ‘Now tell me it isn’t ugly.’

      ‘I think you’re beautiful,’ Guy said. ‘And that means every part of you. This doesn’t make any difference to me at all. I still think you’re beautiful.’ And, dipping his head, he planted kisses all the way down the fine silvery line. ‘Come to me,’ he said, drawing her into his arms. ‘Just lie quietly with me here and forget everything that happened—put everything out of your mind except for the fact that you’ve come back to me—back to France where I’ll never let anything hurt you again.’

      Guy had seen the wound on her leg now, Kate thought as tears began to run unseen by him down her cheeks, but he couldn’t see the wound that his trust had just carved in her heart.

      ‘And where have you been?’ Megan demanded fondly when Kate returned to the cottage shortly before dusk. ‘A walk, you said. Not a ruddy marathon. And look at you! Your skirt’s a mess. Are you all right?’

      Glancing down ruefully at her clothes, Kate hardly knew where to begin. ‘I’m fine,’ she said as a catch-all. ‘Stop worrying about me, Megan. I’m a big girl now.’

      ‘Oh, really.’ Megan sighed, clearly unconvinced.

      ‘I met Guy…’

      ‘Now you do surprise me,’ Megan murmured.

      ‘I fell in the stream…’

      ‘And