go?’ Aurora asked, feeling as if she’d been told everything and yet nothing.
Crispin winked across the table. ‘Princess, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.’
‘You were a spy?’ she asked evenly, deciding to push the boundaries of his disclosure.
‘More like the government’s best-kept secret,’ Crispin corrected with equal seriousness. ‘Suffice it to say that I’ve been places that don’t exist on maps. I wasn’t responsible for the kind of diplomacy that goes on in the glittering mansions of Vienna.’ He drew a deep breath and steered the conversation away from himself. ‘Now, it’s your turn. Where did you learn to ride?’
‘Ireland,’ Aurora said shortly. She’d expected a question along that vein, but, like Crispin, she wasn’t ready to divulge all the details. ‘Now, as for my next question—’ she began, leaning forwards on her elbows. But Crispin had no qualms about interrupting a lady.
‘No, Aurora, finish your answer,’ Crispin said shortly, arms crossed over his chest. ‘You have to say more than that. Where in Ireland? I saw you jumping this morning when I came to get Sheikh. No one rides the way you do without extensive training.’
He had been watching. She’d thought she’d glimpsed someone at the entrance to the arena, thought she’d felt his presence. When no one had materialised, she’d chalked it up to silliness on her part. Of course no one could really feel another person’s presence.
‘I lived near Curragh in County Kildare. My father was head groom to a wealthy family.’
‘You don’t have an accent,’ Crispin said pointedly as if judging the truth of her answer.
‘Accents can be bred out of you.’ Among other things. Once upon a time there’d been such hopes for her, thanks to the status of her mother’s family. A moment of foolishness had dashed those hopes. Aurora rose from her bench and began collecting the dishes. The conversation was heading in a direction she was distinctly uncomfortable with. There were things Crispin didn’t need to know about her. Those things could make no difference now. She’d negotiated her own peace with the past and accepted the consequences of her decisions, as lonely and as costly as they were.
She reached to take Crispin’s bowl, but his hand shot out and his fingers closed around her wrist. ‘Why did you invite me here, Aurora? You won’t tell me anything about yourself, so, clearly, getting to know each other was not the purpose.’
Aurora tried to pull away, but his grip held firm. ‘You’re hardly the epitome of a forthcoming gentleman,’ she replied tartly. ‘You can’t or won’t tell me anything about yourself either.’
‘Perhaps that gives us something in common.’ Crispin’s voice was husky. ‘Two people with mysterious lives.’ His eyes moved to her mouth and back to her eyes.
Aurora’s temper rose. ‘Did you come here to seduce me?’
Crispin laughed softly. ‘How could I do that? I had no idea I was coming to dinner until you invited me.’ Silence rose between them. Aurora was acutely aware of the crackle of the fire, of the light drum of rain on the roof, of the intimate play of firelight on her walls, the only light in the room.
Crispin released her wrist and ran the back of his knuckles gently down the side of her cheek, skimming it low where cheek met jaw line. ‘Would it be so bad if I did?’
‘Did what?’ Aurora’s concentration waned, heat surging in her belly at the stroke of his hand against her cheek. She could not delude herself now. She had not asked him here for Kildare. She’d asked him here for herself.
‘Seduced you, hmm?’ His tone was languorous. He shifted on the bench, straddling it to draw her down to him. She went willingly, cognisant of her growing need. She’d been alone too long. It had been ages since she’d taken a lover. No one had compelled her. Even the ones that had were few and their appearances in her life had been irregular at best. Men were a luxury she could not afford. They’d shown themselves to be fickle companions on the path she trod.
Why not play his game a while? It’s just one night and he’s already said he’s not planning to stay around. It won’t upset your plans, a wicked voice in her head prompted. It was the perfect night for love, or what temporarily passed for it: English rain on the roof, a fire in the fireplace, a handsome man who knew the rules of this sort of engagement, a man whose hot kisses in the road had already proven he was a master of pleasure, a man who was the master of his own destiny just as she was of hers.
Crispin’s lips replaced his hand against her cheek. He trailed a line of gentle kisses to her mouth where all gentleness ended. Intuitively, he seemed to know she would not tolerate being seduced. Seduction implied that she was somehow not an equal participant in the activity, that she needed to be led. Aurora revelled in the aggressive action of his mouth on hers.
She pulled his shirt loose from the waistband of his trousers and pushed the linen up, her hands running underneath the fabric, caressing the expanse of chest beneath the cloth. The man felt magnificent, all sculpted muscle beneath her fingertips.
He gave an appreciable shudder as her hands ran over his nipples. ‘Perhaps I should be asking you the question. Did you invite me here to seduce me?’ Crispin said.
Aurora gave a throaty laugh and repeated his earlier words. ‘Would it be so bad if I did?’
‘No,’ Crispin breathed against her neck. ‘It wouldn’t be bad at all.’
But Aurora had no illusions about being in charge of the seduction. Crispin Ramsden was very clearly a man used to being in charge. He would let her participate; in fact, he gave every indication so far of liking a partner who was actively involved, but he would call the shots. Still, Aurora thought she’d see just how far she could go before he rebelled.
She shifted back on the bench and stood up, tugging on the neck of his shirt. He had little choice but to rise and follow her. Once on his feet, Aurora tugged him closer, pressing a full-mouthed kiss on his lips. She reached a hand between them to the front of his breeches. Her own aroused state grew at the feel of him, hard and ready behind the cloth.
‘God, Aurora,’ Crispin growled at the intimate contact. He propelled her backwards until she made contact with the wall. He grabbed both her hands and raised them over her head, manacling them in position with his strong grip. His eyes were dark and wild now, his hair erotically loose about his shoulders. There was an immediacy to his actions that warned Aurora they weren’t going to make it to the bed. He was going to take her rough and fast against the wall.
A tremor of anticipation, of pleasure at the very thought of his impending actions, surged through her, firing her passion. The core of her was weeping already. She rattled her arms beneath his grip, wanting her hands free to touch him, to push his shirt off his shoulders, to drag his pants down his hips.
‘Not yet, my impatient one.’ Crispin was all seductive huskiness. His free hand deftly slipped the buttons of her shirt free. He pushed the folds of her shirt aside, only momentarily foxed by the presence of her thin chemise. He would have to let her arms go now, she thought gleefully. But Crispin surprised her. He bent his mouth to the chemise and held a bit of it between his teeth and ripped with his hand. The fabric gave easily, releasing her breasts to Crispin’s hot gaze. He cupped them, one at a time, his breath coming in gratifying rasps. His arousal was full and complete. Only then did he release her arms, letting her work the fastenings of his trousers as he worked hers.
Aurora kicked out of her breeches, feeling his naked member brush against her thigh as she did so. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, so intense was her longing. It was time. Her body knew it was time. No part of her wanted to wait a moment longer. Crispin was lifting her, his hands fitted beneath her buttocks. She wrapped her legs about his waist, gripping his shoulders for balance. Crispin took her weight easily.
‘Oh, God, you’re so ready.’ Crispin’s member teased at her entrance, testing, planning its entry. She moved slightly, forcing him inside, taking all of him without