"Do you know why I won't touch you?"
"Yes," she answered. "It's quite simple for anyone to understand. You don't want me. An imbecile could figure it out."
"I didn't say I didn't want you."
"Yes, you did."
"I do want you."
Her eyes widened in surprise. Then she shook her head at him. The conversation had taken a bizarre twist. He decided he might as well finish what he started.
"Hell, yes, I want you," he muttered. Then he qualified his answer. "I just don't want to be married to you."
"You can't have it both ways, Lucas."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She wasn't certain. But she was beginning to feel better now that he acknowledged he was attracted to her.
Then she realized the veiled insult he'd given her. "Do I have a sign on my forehead asking to be insulted?" she snapped. "Honest to heaven, first William Merritt insults me by suggesting I become his mistress and now you insult me by saying you want to… you know, but you don't want to be married. Well?" she demanded.
He was going to answer her question, and while he was at it, he'd tell her he didn't like being lumped into any category with that son-of-a-bitch Merritt. She distracted him before he could defend himself. She touched him.
A lock of his hair had fallen forward to rest on his forehead. It was driving her to distraction. Without a thought as to what she was doing, she pushed his hand away from her shoulder and reached up to brush the hair back where it belonged.
He jerked back, acting very like she'd just struck him. She was immediately embarrassed by her boldness.
"Madam says men would rut with a rock if it were possible." The outrageous statement gained his full attention. "And do you know why?" she asked.
He told himself not to ask. He knew he wasn't going to like the answer. Curiosity won out, however. "No, why?"
"Men don't think with their heads but with their…"
He stopped her from finishing her explanation. His hand covered her mouth. "For the love of God, Taylor. You will not talk like that."
"I was just telling you what Madam explained to me about men," Taylor whispered the second Lucas removed his hand. "It's true, isn't it? Lust is always uppermost in every man's mind."
"Not all men are like that."
"Are you?"
He gave her a scorching look. Then he braced his hands on either side of her face and slowly leaned forward. "No, I'm not. I want you to understand something, Taylor. You've been one hell of a distraction to me, but I won't ever settle down. No matter how enticing the thought might be."
"Is that why you're sitting on my bed in the middle of the night lecturing me? You want me to know you won't settle down? I believe you've already made that perfectly clear, Lucas."
"I also wanted you to know you're safe with me. Even though I'm attracted to you, I won't take advantage of our circumstances."
"You'll be honorable."
"Yes."
She nodded. Lucas was getting all riled up. His voice had turned gritty and his expression was hard, angry.
She decided to try to lighten his mood. "I don't want you to worry about me," she told him.
He shook his head. "I'm not worried."
"I believe I can put your mind at ease about this attraction and our close quarters."
"How?"
"Ask me if I want you to touch me."
"Do you?"
"I'd rather be hanged."
He was startled, but only for a second or two, and then he broke into a wide smile. She'd sounded sincere, yet the sparkle in her eyes told him she was jesting with him. He was beginning to like the way she turned his words back on him. She was being sassy and clever.
"Are you mocking me?"
She gave him that wide-eyed stare he found intoxicating and damned if she wasn't becoming impossible to resist.
"Yes."
He laughed. His sour mood evaporated. He shook his head at her, then leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her forehead.
He kissed the bridge of her nose next. He was treating her like a child he was tucking into bed for the night. Taylor was having none of that. Her curiosity to find out what it would feel like to be properly kissed by Lucas suddenly overrode all caution. Before she could stop herself, she clasped the sides of his face with her hands and leaned up. Her mouth brushed against his. It was a featherlight touch, over within the space of a heartbeat, and in her estimation, it was really very nice. She liked the feel of his rough skin against her fingers. Lucas needed a shave, but the day's shadow of a beard made him look extremely rugged.
Taylor was content. Her curiosity had been satisfied. She let go of him and fell back against the pillows.
He followed her. He clasped her chin with one hand and forced her to look up at him. "What the hell did you do that for?"
She hurried to placate him. "It was just a kiss, Lucas."
He shook his head. "No, Taylor. This is a kiss."
His mouth came down hard on top of hers. He took absolute possession. She opened her mouth to protest. He took immediate advantage. His tongue swept inside to mate with hers. Taylor was stunned. She didn't know if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer, and what in God's name was his tongue doing inside her mouth? She'd never heard of anyone kissing that way. It was too intimate, too consuming. Heaven help her, she liked it. Her hands found their way around his neck. She clung to him while he gently ravished her. She couldn't remain passive for long, however. She started kissing him back. Her tongue rubbed against him, slowly at first, then more boldly. The kiss turned carnal. The heat burning between them was as arousing as the mingling of their scents.
He couldn't seem to get enough of her. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest through the thin material of her gown. It drove him crazy. He pulled her even closer, cupped his hands behind her neck and angled her head to one side so his tongue could make deeper penetration. His mouth slanted over hers again and again. He shook with his desire. She tasted so good, so sweet, and the little whimpers she made in the back of her throat destroyed his control.
He never wanted to stop. The realization jarred him back to reality. Lucas ended the kiss abruptly. Getting her to let go of him took a little longer. He had to pull her hands away and gently push her back against the bed.
He was out of breath. She didn't think she was breathing at all. Lucas had overwhelmed her. She could still taste him on her lips, still feel the heat of his mouth as he devoured hers.
The kiss had gotten completely out of hand in a matter of seconds. His heart was still hammering thunderously inside his chest. Passion was slow to ebb. She wasn't helping matters. Her eyes were misty and her rosy lips were still swollen from his touch. She looked bemused and too damned touchable.
"You're dangerous, lady."
His frustration made his voice thick with anger. Lucas stood up; grabbed his boots, shirt, and bedroll; and stormed out of the room. He wasn't about to take any chances. He was on edge now, aching with the need to plant himself solidly inside her, and since he couldn't do what he most wanted to do, he was determined to get the hell away from her.
He went looking for a bucket of cold water to pour over his head.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Taylor burst into tears. She started shaking from head to foot.
She was thoroughly ashamed of herself. Whatever had she been thinking of to taunt him for a kiss? She shook her head over her own sinful conduct. She'd been playing with fire, she told herself. She knew better now. She certainly couldn't continue on with this attraction. It would be too easy for her to lose sight of her goals.
Taylor no longer trusted her own judgment. She believed she was in love with William Merritt, and Lord, hadn't she been a complete fool then? Lucas might be different, but he was still a man and therefore not to be trusted in matters of love and commitment.