He wanted to answer her, but God help him, he couldn’t find his voice. The sight of her, wet, beautiful, angry, stole his ability to speak. Damn near stole his ability to breathe.
She planted her fists on her hips. “Were you spying on me? Trying to frighten me?”
He frowned, shook his head, and swallowed. “No.” His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t used it in a decade or two. “I couldn’t sleep. Wanted some air. I heard splashing… and there you were. I hadn’t recovered from my surprise when you went under the water. It seemed you were under far too long. I thought you were drowning.” He could barely push the last word past his lips.
Unable to stop himself, he reached out and trailed unsteady fingers over her cheek. Her skin was smooth, warm and wet beneath his fingers. Her eyes widened at the gesture, but she did not pull away.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you. I thought you were drowning…”His fingers slipped from her cheek, and he fancied he saw disappointment flash in her eyes. Reaching down, he clasped her hands, then pressed them against his chest over the spot where his heart still raced. “Can you feel how scared I was?” he asked, drinking in the sensation of her hands on him, wishing his shirt would magically disappear.
Her head jerked in a tiny nod. “I… I’m sorry as well. I was only wetting my hair.”
He inhaled, and the delicious scent of her warm, wet, nearly naked body filled his head, intoxicating him. His sudden spate of anger died as quickly as it had flared, replaced by a roar of desire that threatened to bring him to his knees. All the feelings he’d held in check for so long rushed to the surface, sweeping away his restraint like a feather cast upon rough seas. He wanted her so badly…
He released her hands, cupped her face in his palms, then slowly lowered his head.
At the first gentle brush of his lips against hers, he stilled, absorbing the incredible realization that he was actually kissing her, memorizing the sensation. He brushed his lips over hers again, and a tiny gasp escaped her. Her fingers curled against his chest, her lips parted slightly, and the longing that he’d held back for so long burst.
With a groan, he erased the space between them in one step. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he clasped her tightly against him. He sifted a hand through her damp hair, then deepened their kiss.
Catherine stood in the strong circle of his arms and simply allowed the onslaught of sensations battering her to take over. Warm. He was so warm. She felt as if he’d wrapped her in a velvet blanket.
Solid. The sensation of her body pressed against his from chest to knee stole her breath. Her fingers curled, then splayed against his chest, and she could feel the hard muscles beneath the fine linen. His heartbeat thundered against her palms, and she absorbed every slap, knowing her heart was beating at the same frantic speed.
She parted her lips and was rewarded with the erotic, delicious sweep of his tongue against hers. He tasted dark and exotic, with a faint trace of brandy.
More. How she wanted more of this heady wonder, more of these sensuous delights. She pressed herself closer to him, reveling in his arousal pressing against her belly. A low groan vibrated in his throat, and she glided one hand up to touch the sound. He wore no cravat, and her fingers brushed over the shallow indentation at the base of his throat, then slipped beneath the material to touch his warm, firm skin before sliding upward to ruffle through his thick hair.
His hold on her tightened, and she strained closer, squirming against him. More. Please, more…
He answered her silent plea, slanting his mouth over hers in a long, slow, deep, tongue-mating kiss that dissolved her bones. His large hands tunneled through her hair, then moved slowly down her back, as if trying to memorize every inch.
When his palms reached the small of her back, he left her lips and trailed his mouth along her jaw, then down her neck with a series of heated, nipping kisses. Shivers of delight shook her and she leaned her head back to give him better access.
He blazed a trail back up her neck, then found her lips once more, destroying her with another hot, open-mouthed, lush kiss that made her feel as if she were a mound of gunpowder on the verge of exploding. A long, need-filled groan rumbled upward from the vicinity of her toes. He gentled the kiss, then raised his head, and her groan turned to one of protest.
She forced her eyes open and stilled. A feminine thrill unlike any she’d ever felt before suffused her at the fire burning in his gaze. Never had a man looked at her like that. With such heat. Such passion. Such reverence. Such raw hunger. She felt a tremor run through him and clearly saw his fight for self-control… a fight that part of her badly wanted him to lose. The feminine part that longed to feel his kiss again. His hands on her body. Skin to skin.
One strong arm released her, and he brought his hand to her face. Slowly his fingertips brushed over her brow. Her cheeks, her lips, all while his other arm held her tightly against him-which was good, as she suspected she’d slither to the ground in a boneless, heated heap. He swallowed, then whispered one word.
“Catherine.”
It sounded like a sensual caress. Deep and raspy, with a hint of wonder. The sound tickled over her skin, making her feel wicked and decadent. More womanly and alive than she’d felt in years. There was only one word she could answer in reply.
“Andrew.”
A slow smile tilted up his lips. “I like the way my name sounds when you say it.”
“It was all I could think of to say, except Oh, my.”
“I am in complete agreement.”
“Is this possible? That we agree again this evening?”
“Shocking, but true. However, you sound surprised that you would think to say Oh, my about our kiss.”
“I confess I somewhat am. Are you not?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t doubt for a moment it would be like that. The only thing that surprises me is that I managed to summon the fortitude to stop.”
“You’d thought about kissing me?” She blessed the cover of darkness that kept him from seeing the flush that heated her cheeks at her forward question, but she wanted to know. Needed to know.
“Yes. Does that… upset you?”
No. It excites me. Almost unbearably. “No.” Her eyes searched his, and after a quick debate, she uttered the unvarnished truth. “I’ve never been kissed like that.”
He cupped her cheek in his callused palm and brushed his thumb lightly over her lips. “Good. I like to be first.”
A dozen sensual images collided in Catherine’s mind, and she realized this man could represent a great many “firsts” for her-firsts her body was aching to experience. The arousal still pressing against her belly and the hard, fast mumping of his heart beneath her palms indicated he wouldn’t be averse to the idea.
But she could not make such an important decision, like whether or not to take him as a lover, while wrapped in his arms. She needed to think. And in order to do so, she had to put some space between them.
She slowly stepped back, until three feet separated them. His gaze wandered down her body. Her wet chemise clung to her skin, revealing everything to his avid gaze, but instead of feeling shy, she reveled in the intense need and desire etched on his face.
“You’re beautiful, Catherine. The most beautiful woman in the world.”
The desire his words fueled in her left her shaking and frightened. Hoping to cool the fire racing through her, dispel the sensual tension bouncing between them, she attempted a laugh. “How can you possibly say that? You haven’t met every woman in the world.”
“I don’t need to touch fire to know it would burn me. I don’t need to smash a hammer on my finger to know it would hurt. Or eat a sweet from the confectionary to know I’d want another one. Some things, Catherine, you just know.” He reached out and lightly grasped her hand, entwining their fingers. “I also know that our next kiss will be even more Oh, my than the one we just shared. And the one after that…”He raised their joined hands to his lips and pressed a warm kiss against the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. “Indescribable.”