One Wicked Christmas Read Online Free Page B

been quick in his lovemaking, kissing her, lifting her gown and finishing. But she remembered the things she had wanted to do with him, dreamed of doing. Things her married friends whispered about. Things that lately she had dreamed of doing with Ian. She gathered all her scattered courage and reached out to lightly slide her hands over his shoulders.
    His bare shoulders. By Jove, he slept naked ? She hadn’t even thought men did such a thing. His skin was warm and slightly damp, like smooth satin over hard iron muscles. Lord Phillips was stronger and larger than she had imagined. Fascinating. She traced the tip of her finger along the groove of his spine to where the sheet draped over his lean hips, hiding the rest of him from her.
    Was he taller, as well? How could that be?
    A rough groan broke the silence of the room. “Cassandra,” he muttered, and suddenly he rolled over and caught her around the waist, carrying her down to the bed. His body was hard and heavy over hers as his mouth closed over hers in the darkness.
    Cassandra couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She gasped, and his tongue took advantage of the small sound to slide deep against hers, greedy, hungry. It was overwhelming, overpowering….
    Wonderful . She couldn’t believe anyone could kiss like this. Why, oh, why hadn’t she tried kissing strange men sooner? His teeth nipped lightly at her lower lip then his tongue soothed the tiny sting and all she knew was the delicious fire that swept over her skin at that touch.
    He tasted of wine and mint, of something dark and rich, and he smelled of sandalwood soap….
    Sandalwood? For one flashing instant she remembered the way Ian always smelled, so clean and exotic at the same time. The way his hair felt under her fingertips. Soft, like raw silk. Just like the hair that slid over her skin now as his open mouth traced a hot ribbon of kisses down her neck, over her bare shoulder.
    But Lord Phillips’s hair was close-cropped.
    Her eyes flew open and she stared down at the head against her shoulder. The dark head. She froze in panic.
    “Cassie,” he muttered. “What’s wrong?”
    What was wrong? She was in bed with Ian, that was what was wrong!
    And yet it felt so horribly, wonderfully right.
    Cassandra pushed him away with a shriek. Startled by her sudden move, he fell off her body back to the bed and she sat up straight. She jerked up the sheet to cover herself in her thin chemise, but that unfortunately left Ian quite naked. The beam of moonlight turned his lean, glistening body to pure, molten silver.
    And, damn him, he didn’t seem in the least bit concerned that he was naked. He sat up beside her and knelt back on his heels, staring down at her in concern. His hair was tousled from the touch of her fingers.
    “Cassie?” he said hoarsely.
    “You— What are you doing here?” she stammered.
    Much to her horror, a grin touched his lips. “I think that was obvious. I was kissing you, until I was rudely interrupted.”
    “But you—you…” Cassandra had no idea what to say, what to do. Nothing in her oh-so-proper upbringing, or her equally proper marriage, had ever prepared her for a situation like this. Finding herself in bed with the wrong man.
    The man she had secretly wanted to be in bed with more than anything.
    Ian slowly stretched out on the mattress again, his head propped on his folded arms as his beautiful body was spread before her. His broad, smooth chest, tapering to a lean waist and narrow hips, his long, hair-dusted legs, the hard evidence of his arousal…
    No! Cassandra snapped her eyes closed. But she could still see him there.
    “Expecting someone else, were you?” he said, and he sounded so infuriatingly satisfied with himself.
    “This isn’t your room,” she said.
    “It is now. And I was just wondering if I should go knock on your door when I fell so inconveniently asleep.” She felt his hand brush lightly over hers where she clutched at the sheet. “I confess, I