Page 71 of When the Scoundrel Sins

Then he slowly shifted away from her, reluctantly sliding himself from her warmth, and she had no choice but to let him slip from her arms. He removed the clever little sheath, then buttoned up his trousers and reached down for the discarded cravat at his feet.

He leaned over her as she still lay draped across the stones, utterly satiated and relaxed, and placed a soft kiss to her lips. “Hold still. You’ve bled a little,” he explained with a touch of embarrassment, gently stroking the silk between her legs to clean her. “We can’t risk staining your dress.”

But the soft caress of the smooth, cool silk brushing against her sensitized folds sent a new shiver of pulsing arousal through her. A sighing moan escaped her.

He grinned against her lips and murmured, “Insatiable.”

She laughed, certain she was. But only for him.

When he finished and moved away to dress, she sat up and winced at the sharp pain. She would have bruises on her bottom and on the backs of her legs from the stone wall, but she simply didn’t care. Tonight had been wonderful, and she would never regret it. Resisting the urge to seduce him into doing all those deliciously wicked things all over again—for now, anyway—she pulled up her bodice and carefully wiggled down her skirt.

He returned to her, his waistcoat hanging open and his neck rakishly bare. Her breath caught in her throat.Goodness.Even half-dressed and rumpled, he’d never been more breathtaking.

“Bluebell,” he murmured as he smiled at her through the shadows, such a self-satisfied grin that she couldn’t help but smile back. She didn’t want to think about what lay ahead for them. At that moment, with her body still warm and pulsing with pleasure from his, she refused to think about anything past tonight.

He gathered her into his arms and held her close for a precious moment more, just long enough for her to rest her cheek against his shoulder and breathe deep the familiar scent of him, now deliciously tinged with the musky aroma of sex. Then he gently helped her to the ground, fastened up her dress, and finished straightening her skirts and bodice, making certain no trace of what they’d done was visible.

His careful attention made her heart ache. He cared about her, she was certain of it. This tender act proved it. Perhaps he would never love her, but at least she knew she mattered to him, if only in this small way.

When she moved to step away, he encircled her in his arms and pulled her back against him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he insisted gently, his cheek nuzzling the side of her neck. “I want to hold you a bit longer.”

She closed her eyes and nodded, sighing deeply, so happy and at peace within the circle of his arms.

“Are you all right?” he murmured.

She smiled. “I’m wonderful.”

“Yes.” His lips smiled against her ear. “You certainly are.”

An easy, happy laugh fell from her lips. Only Quinn could make her laugh at a moment like this!

He placed a kiss against her shoulder and murmured, “I didn’t expect for that to happen, you know. Not here, not like that.”

“You didn’t?” She stiffened, her body flashing with sudden apprehension. Had she made a horrible mistake?

“Oh, I wanted you all right,” he drawled wolfishly. “From the moment I arrived here. That first evening when I found you swimming in the pond, I wanted to jump in after you and have my way with you.”

She laughed.

“Repeatedly,” he growled.

More laughter poured from her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. She squeezed her arms over his as he held her. Nothing else in the world existed at that moment except for Quinn and the cocooning shadows of the ruins, except for the strong beat of his heart against her back.

“But you should have had roses and wine, satin sheets, and a down bed,” he added with regret. “It should have been something special that you’ll never forget.”

She drew a deep breath and admitted, “Six years.”

In puzzled surprise, he lifted his mouth from her shoulder. “That’s a bit exact for forgetting, don’t you think?”

“No, goose!” She laughed. “You kissed me for the first time six years ago, and I haven’t forgotten it.” Not the rakish way he’d looked in his formal evening clothes, not the scent of the roses or the way the music wafted faintly through the dark gardens, not the way he’d kissed her so breathlessly…not the way he’d created that same intense longing inside her that he’d finally satisfied tonight. “So if I can remember one little kiss for six years, then how could I ever forget tonight?”

“Belle,” he whispered, tenderness lacing his hoarse voice.

He turned her in his arms and cupped her face against his palm as he lowered his head to kiss her. The moment was bittersweet, so much so that she ached with it.

He broke the kiss, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him close, not wanting this moment to end so soon. Although she knew they only had tonight, she would have gladly remained right there in his arms forever.