Nicole Jordan - To Seduce a Bride

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    Lord Claybourne’s hands covered Lily’s shoulders, lightly massaging. Then bending, he covered her mouth with his in a slow, devastating, spellbinding kiss that sent searing heat arcing between them again.
    “Don’t you see?” he asked, his voice husky and low. “Whatever this is between us, it deserves exploring.”
    Dazed, Lily opened her eyes. Yes, she saw. She was aching with nameless longing…aching for him. Giving a frustrated groan, she slid out from his embrace and backed away, putting as much space as possible between them.
    His lordship locked gazes with her, regarding her intently. With shaking fingers, Lily tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and swallowed hard. Yet her voice was still a hoarse rasp when she finally spoke. “You are mistaken if you think I will meekly surrender just because you are a marvelous kisser.”
    “I think nothing of the kind,” he said, his tone wry. “You haven’t a meek bone in your lovely body, I’ll warrant.”
    “No, and I will never accept your proposal of marriage, either,” Lily said firmly.
    The smile he gave her was utterly beautiful and utterly maddening. “We shall see.”
Seduction has never been more enticing than in this third novel of Nicole Jordan's enthralling Regency trilogy, The Courtship Wars.
Spirited beauty Lilian Loring believes that love is too risky a venture and marriage is best avoided entirely -- even if her unwanted suitor comes as deliciously packaged as Heath Griffin, the Marquess of Claybourne. The charismatic rogue has never had a woman discourage his advances. But after a show of resolve, Lily melts under Heath's sensuous kisses. Indeed, perhaps that is why she decides to hide out in the last place a gentleman would look for a lady: a house of scandalous repute.
In bold pursuit, Heath discovers his enchanting spitfire cheerfully instructing the demimonde in the art of deportment and manners. Now the thrill of the chase is exceeded only by his powerful need to possess Lily as his bride. For Heath, victory in their game of passion means nothing less than winning Lily's elusive heart...

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And that was before he raised a finger to the hollow of her throat and lightly stroked. “I think I should demonstrate.”

“Demonstrate what?” she asked unsteadily.

His eyes smiled into hers. “The kind of pleasure a man can give a woman.”

Her heart started thudding harder as he made good on his declaration. His hand cupping the back of her head, he drew her close again…yet this time his kiss held an even more delectable pressure. This kiss was slow and erotic and extremely thorough; parting her lips, his tongue slid into her mouth, creating an intense yearning inside her that only added to her light-headedness.

Lily fought the powerful urges in her body. Her head was still spinning from the champagne, but that didn’t explain her overwhelming feelings of desire or her deplorable attraction to the seductive marquess.

She couldn’t resist letting him continue, though. Not when he was assailing her mouth with such throat-stopping languor…molding, tasting, teasing. All her senses felt assaulted as his tongue stroked provocatively against hers, tangling in a sensual dance.

With a sound between a sigh and a whimper, Lily surrendered.

In response, his kiss only deepened.

Helplessly she raised her hand to his sun-streaked brown hair, which was amazingly thick and silky. His own hand cradled her throat, then slid lower to where the square decolletage of her evening gown exposed a generous amount of bare skin.

When his knuckles skimmed the upper swells of her breasts, Lily tried to draw in a shaky breath of air. But he kept on kissing her, arousing with silky strokes of his tongue, slowly driving, deliciously plundering.

She was achingly aware when he shifted beneath her, for one of his knees separated hers. Through her skirts she felt the pressure of his sinewed thigh against her femininity. At the same time his hand moved lower to lightly cup her breast.

Lily moaned at the feverish surge of pleasure that sensuous caress engendered. She felt overwhelmed with sensation, and when his fingertips discovered her nipple beneath her bodice, fire streaked through her body, flooding her veins with shuddering heat.

She had never felt anything like this captivating man’s erotic assault on her senses. He was driving her mad with his caresses, encouraging her response, coaxing her, stirring the wildness that had always clamored in her blood.

Yet it was his tenderness that stunned her most. He knew his own strength, knew how to use it. He could be gentle, tender, that was evident. Moments earlier, the two kittens had swarmed over him, mewling and purring, disarming the caution that she had learned long ago, when she was sixteen.

That should have been a warning, Lily knew. Those tiny creatures sensed no danger with him, which made him infinitely dangerous to her

Merciful heaven, what was she doing ? She had to end this now, a desperate voice protested in her head. She couldn’t let it continue.

Suddenly pushing against his chest, Lily tore her mouth away from his magical one and sat up. Her breath was coming in rapid bursts while her pulse raced wildly.

“That was quite a…demonstration, my lord,” she murmured shakily, forcing a lightness to her tone. “But I imagine you were aided by the effects of the champagne.” She lifted a hand to her temple. “I should never have drunk so much. I didn’t know I would have to defend myself against you.”

He didn’t reply at once to her complaint. Instead his gaze was fixed on her, measuring, as he slowly pushed himself up on one elbow.

Lily had to look away from his penetrating regard. She still felt dazed, and their passionate bout of kissing had left her yearning for more-devil take him. She had to leave. She didn’t trust herself to be alone with Lord Claybourne any longer.

Just then she heard a distant commotion out in the stableyard-the sound of carriages being readied, she realized. Some of the wedding guests would be leaving the ball early to return to London, a half dozen miles away.

“I must go,” Lily said quickly, relieved to have an excuse to escape.

It was a moment before he spoke. “Can you make it safely down the ladder?”

“I…think so. I am almost sober now.”

He corralled the two kittens and deposited them gently back with their mother and sibling. As they scurried down hungrily to root for their dinner, Lily eased her way toward the top of the ladder.

But Lord Claybourne wasn’t finished with her, it seemed.

“Wait a moment. You have straw in your hair. You can’t return to the ball looking as if you’ve been trysting in a stable.”

Lily shook her head as he moved closer. “It doesn’t matter. I am not returning to the ball. I am driving home with my friend, Miss Tess Blanchard, shortly. My sister Roslyn and I mean to spend the night at her house so as to give the newlyweds privacy.”

“But you don’t want Miss Blanchard to suspect you have been kissing me, do you?”

“Well…no.”

“Then keep still while I play lady’s maid.”

Despite her reluctance, Lily obeyed as he plucked the straw from her upswept coiffure. She could feel his fingers in her hair like a soft caress, could feel his gaze lingering on her face.

“I had best hurry,” she said as soon as he was done. “Tess will be waiting for me.”

He put a hand on her arm. “Allow me to go first in case I must break your fall. I don’t want you injuring yourself.”

She couldn’t argue with that, either, blast him. “Thank you, my lord,” Lily murmured, allowing him to move past her.

He climbed down first, pausing partway to wait for her. Lily followed, lowering her feet to the ladder and holding tightly as she turned around to descend backward.

She made it down several steps, but then somehow her foot missed a rung. It was fortunate that Claybourne was below her, for when she slipped, his hand reached up and caught her hip to steady her. Her gasp, however, was due more to his touch on her body than her fear of falling.

“Easy,” he murmured, guiding her foot back to the ladder.

The warm feel of his fingers as they wrapped around her ankle unsettled her even further. Unnerved by the intimacy, Lily bit her lip and descended the final rungs as quickly as possible.

“Th-thank you,” she repeated as she reached the solid ground of the stable floor.

She remained there a moment, swaying a bit dizzily and trying to regain her composure. She was still shaken by his seductive kisses and eager to pretend that nothing had happened between them.

She expected Lord Claybourne to move away, yet he stood close behind her, his hands spanning her waist. His body felt hot and hard against her back, reminding her of his alluring caresses.

Her breath caught in her throat when he stepped even closer and nestled her buttocks against his groin.

Lily shivered. She knew what that male hardness meant. He was aroused from their brazen intimacy.

She was still keenly aroused as well, she admitted. Her body tingled all over, while the warm yearning in her feminine center continued to throb.

“You may release me, my lord,” she whispered hoarsely. “I am quite safe now.”

He gave a low, rough chuckle. “You truly think you are safe?”

Her throat went dry. “Please, Lord Claybourne…”

“Please what, Lily?” He spoke her name in a husky murmur as he bent his head to nuzzle her ear.

Her head jerked in alarm. “You cannot kiss me again!” she exclaimed, her voice high and breathless.

His exhalation was like a sigh. “I know. I would like nothing more than to climb back up there with you and spend the rest of the night showing you pleasure you’ve never dreamed of. But it wouldn’t be honorable of me to take advantage of you in this weakened state…and Marcus would have my head on a platter if I tried.”

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