Karen Robards - Amanda Rose

He had reached the end of the center hallway and now turned left along the corridor that led to his rooms. Lalanni came out of one of the bedrooms, a duster in her hand. Her eyes widened as she saw her master striding down the hall with a face like the devil’s and Amanda struggling in his arms. The girl knew better than to say anything; Matt’s face as he stalked past her told her that. She moved back into the bedroom, as if to make herself invisible. Amanda felt her face flame at being caught by her maid in such a humiliating position.

“Damn you, put me down.” Embarrassment added fresh impetus to her struggles. Matt paid no heed to her efforts; he had reached the door to his bedroom and now shouldered through it. “Matt, I won’t …”

Her voice trailed off and her face turned an even brighter shade of scarlet as she saw Lamb, Matt’s valet, place a change of raiment on the bed. He regarded them incredulously.

“ Get out. ” Matt’s voice was a snarl. Lamb, flushing, hurried to obey. When the door closed behind him, Matt strode to the bed, sweeping the carefully arranged clothes onto the floor with one hand before dropping Amanda onto the silk bedspread.

Amanda quickly rolled toward the edge of the bed and to her surprise, she wasn’t stopped. Then she saw why. Matt stood between her and the door, a nasty, mocking smile on his face. As she watched he crossed to the door and turned the key in the lock. Then he came back to stand in the middle of the room. His eyes never left hers as he shrugged out of his coat and began to remove his cravat.

“This won’t change anything, Matt,” she warned, swallowing as she watched the lacy cravat fall to the floor and his fingers move to the buttons of his shirt.

“Won’t it?” The last button came out of its hole; Matt pulled the shirttails from his pantaloons and shrugged out of the shirt. Amanda’s mouth grew dry as she stared at the wide, bronzed shoulders and black-furred chest. If she were honest, she would have to admit that she had craved his lovemaking for weeks now. The last time he had taken her, he had introduced her to a range of pleasures that she had never imagined existed. Her cheeks colored at the memory of what he had done to her with his mouth and hands, and her heart began to beat faster. She wanted him-but she wanted him in love. Not like this, with anger and a desire to force her submission fueling his passion.

“If you do this, you’ll regret it, Matt,” she said softly. Standing in front of one of the two large, many-paned windows that stretched from floor to ceiling and let in a dazzling amount of sunlight, she could see every hair and pore on the bronzed skin while her face remained in shadow. Shirtless, he was magnificent: all hard muscle and rippling sinew, with a broad chest that could have been carved from teak and a flat, tautly muscled abdomen that she knew from experience was as unyielding as a board.

“I only regret not doing this weeks ago.” He was bending to pull off his boots, then began to unfasten his pantaloons. “God knows why I didn’t, but it doesn’t matter. From now on I’ll make love to you when, where, and how I please. And don’t lie and pretend you’ll find it a hardship. We both know that you enjoy the way I can make you feel-and we have only just begun.”

“I won’t be your mistress, Matt.” He was sliding the pantaloons down over his legs, stepping out of them and letting them fall carelessly to the floor.

“I asked you to marry me.” He straightened, looking at her, his eyes suddenly keen. Amanda stared back at him, meeting his eyes calmly, determined not to let him know how affected she was by the sight of his nude body.

“I won’t do that, either.”

“Then, damn you to hell,” he said, his voice suddenly thick. In two quick strides he was beside her. Amanda didn’t try to run. There was no way she could escape him, and she knew it. As his arms came around her, pulling her hard against him, she knew that she didn’t want to. She craved him as fiercely as he craved her.

When his mouth came down on hers, she met his kiss with a bitter passion that left him gasping. He didn’t have to tell her what to do or force her response. Her arms twined about his neck, holding him tightly to her while her hands stroked the black head. She could feel the fine tremor in the hands that moved over her back, struggling with the myriad tiny hooks that closed her dress. She didn’t notice when at last the dress fell open; her whole being focused on the kiss that threatened to steal her soul.

At first he had meant to hurt her. His mouth had been rough, insulting, as it had closed over hers. But when she opened her mouth to his without resistance, meeting his tongue with hers with a fierce joy, the kiss altered dramatically. It still throbbed with passion, but there was a tenderness in the chiseled mouth as it stroked over her lips that roused an ache deep in her belly. She wanted him-oh, God, she wanted him. More than she had wanted anything in her life.

She was hardly aware of what he was doing as his hands brushed her clothes from her body. Finally she was naked in his arms, trembling as his hands found her breasts, the sun warm on her bare back and buttocks. Then his hands slid from her breasts down the front of her body and around to close over the curved flesh the sun had warmed. His big hands cupping her bottom, he lifted her, pulling her against him so that she was left in no doubt that she aroused him as much as he aroused her. Clinging to his neck, drowning in his kiss, she felt herself lifted off her feet, and then he was striding with her toward the bed.

It was a huge four-poster with a gold silk spread. Sunlight streaming in from the gold-curtained windows fell across it, warming the silk, which he didn’t bother to pull aside. Achingly alive in every nerve, Amanda was aware of the sun-warmed silk against her bare back even as Matt came down beside her. Her hands moved restlessly over his shoulders, beseeching, as he kissed her deeply. She felt his hands in her hair as he withdrew the pins that secured her chignon. Then he was spreading her hair out against the silk, smoothing the thick waves. After a moment his mouth left hers and he buried his face in the soft fire of her hair.

“Matt…” she whispered in a low, aching voice as her hands ran over his shoulders and back. The contrast between the satiny skin of his shoulders and the rough mass of scars lower down twisted like a knife in her heart. She ran her fingers lightly, delicately over the raised surface. He shuddered against her. Amanda felt the movement of his big body with every centimeter of her skin. Then he moved on top of her, his mouth seeking and finding hers with a hungry eroticism that shook her to the depths of her being.

There was no hesitation-they wanted each other too much. Amanda twined her legs around his waist even as he settled himself between them, on fire for him, lifting her body in shameless need. He took her, fiercely, thrusting inside her with a flaming passion of his own. Amanda cried out, then cried out again as he repeated the movement. Then she was dissolving in a wave of bliss unlike anything she had known.

He was tireless. After that first time he took her again and again, in ways she had never dreamed a man could take a woman while the sun sank outside the windows and darkness stole over them like a velvet blanket. If she had been capable of conscious thought, she would have been shocked at some aspects of their lovemaking. But she was aware only of the volcanic heat of their passion, and how wildly she wanted him.

The moon had risen and was peering at them through the window when they both succumbed at last to an exhausted sleep.

Amanda awoke slowly, conscious of a penetrating warmth against her breasts and belly and thighs and around a narrow portion of her waist; her buttocks were cold. Frowning, she opened her eyes. Had she kicked the covers off half her body? She found herself staring directly at Matt’s hard brown neck, and then she understood the reason for the mysterious disparity in temperature. He was holding her close against his chest, his arm around her waist and one muscular thigh thrown over both her legs. Everywhere he touched her, her body was toasty warm. But they were both naked, lying on top of the rumpled bedspread, and her buttocks were exposed to the night air.