Hero, Come Back (Cynster 9.50) - Page 58

He laughed and caught hold of them as well and joined her in her lament.

“Decidedly unfair,” he called out to the heavens. “Release the lady that I love.”

And all of a sudden a shower of dust fell down on them.

But Amanda hardly noticed. “The lady that you what?”

“Never mind that,” he told her. “Grab hold of this bar again.”

“I will do no such thing,” she told him. “Not until you tell me again what you just said.”

He paused, grinning at her, a mischievous, rakish light glittering in the blue of his eyes. “I love you, Amanda. I love you.” Then he winked at her, and nodded toward the cell bars. “Now will you just grab hold of this one again and give it another good shake.”

“You just told me that you love me, and all you want from me is to shake that bar?”

“Yes, very much so,” he said, studying something up at the top of the cell.

“Don’t you think that’s a little unusual,” she said, glancing up at the ceiling as well, but seeing nothing that appeared more interesting than what he’d just said. “Really, Jemmy, usually when a man makes such a declaration he does so on bended knee, or at least follows it with a kiss,” she hinted.

“Greedy girl,” he teased. “You can have that and more, if you will just help me.”

“Help you do what?”

“Get this bar loose. I think this one may be enticed to break free.”

“Truly?” She glanced up at the tiny shower of mortar falling down on them as Jemmy gave it another good shake. “Why didn’t you just say so,” she said, grabbing the bar enthusiastically and putting every bit of strength she possessed to break it free. And come free it did—the centuries old plaster crumbling down atop them. And when the neighboring bar proved just as easily removed, Amanda had enough space to slip between the bars and find herself locked in the happy prison of Jemmy’s embrace.

Nine

“Ruin me,” Amanda pleaded as she looked up into Jemm

y’s gaze. “Love me tonight.” “Tonight?” he whispered, as he gently fingered a stray tendril of her hair. “Not just tonight, but for always.”

As he said the words, she knew without a doubt that these were not the beguiling and false promises of a rake, but the vow of a man who loved her. Truly and deeply loved her above all else.

“Me?” she asked, still unable to grasp the notion of it. Jemmy Reyburn in love with her? Her long-held misgivings and uncertainties knew such a notion was preposterous. But the woman she’d become in the last few days, possessing the confidence gained by a man’s admiring eye, and better still, his kiss, did her best not to listen to those niggling voices of doubt.

“Of course, you,” he said, dipping his head and catching her mouth in a searing kiss.

The moment his lips touched hers, her fears fled in the face of his fiery passion. Never before had she felt so alive, and now Amanda understood what it meant to live.

She met his kiss with her own demands, leaving her tentative innocence behind as well. If she was to live, she would do it with all her heart. And so much more…

As his tongue dipped to stroke hers, she moaned, welcoming his invitation. He tugged her closer, drawing her up against his chest. His body felt hard and so masculine against hers, and so very welcome.

As were his hands, as they moved over her, stroking her back, running over the curve of her hips and then up her sides, his thumbs casting a lingering line over her breasts. He cupped her breasts, teasing first one nipple, then the other, until they were both taut and hard. His touch sent a tangle of desire tumbling and unwinding through her, leaving in its wake a breathless, trembling need.

She moaned and arched up to meet his touch. But to her chagrin he stopped.

“You’re trembling,” he said. His hand paused over her heart, which beneath his touch pounded dangerously. “Do you think this is wise?”

“Please don’t stop,” she said, her fingers curling around his hand, and drawing it up to her lips.

“But didn’t the doctor warn you of just this?” he asked, pulling his hand free and putting it back over her heart.

“He said to beware my heart,” she told him. “And I have no doubts that right now it is in good hands.” She edged closer to him, so her hips met his, so her body pressed against the hard evidence of his desire. “Love me, Jemmy. Love me tonight,” she beseeched him. To urge him further, she reached down and stroked him, amazed at her own wantonness and even more dazzled by the desire it brought forth—in him and her.

Jemmy closed his eyes and groaned as she touched him. But he didn’t stop her.

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Cynster Historical
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