Read The Tempting of Thomas Carrick Online
Authors: Stephanie Laurens
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Scottish, #Historical
The Tempting of Thomas Carrick (52 page)
Not just any man—one with a body like warm, flexing steel. She had to lean back to look into his face.
Blue, blue eyes met hers.
Catriona stilled; she stared. Then she blinked. It took half a second to check—arrogant mein, decisive chin—it was him.
Narrowing her eyes, she fixed them on his; if The Lady had made no mistake, then it behoved her to begin as she meant to go on. "Put me down."
She'd learned the knack of commanding obedience at her mother's knee; her simple words held echoes of authority, undertones of compulsion.
He heard them; he angled his head, one black brow rising, then the ends of his long lips lifted. "In a minute."
It was her turn to listen, and hear the intent in his deep purr. Her eyes flew wide.
"But first..."
If she'd been able to think, she would have screamed, but the shock of his touch, the intimate warmth of his palm as he framed her face, distracted her. His lips completed the conquest—they swooped, arrogantly confident, and settled over hers.
The first contact stunned her; she ceased to breathe. The very concept of breathing drifted from her mind as his lips moved lazily on hers. They were neither warm nor cool, yet heat lingered in their touch. They pressed close, then eased, sipped, supped, then returned. Firm and demanding, they impinged on her senses, reaching deep, stirring her.
She stirred in his encircling arm; it locked tight about her. Heat surrounded her—even through her thick cloak, it reached for her, enveloped her, then sank into her flesh. And grew, built, a crescendo of warmth seeking release. His hot hunger had infected her. Utterly distracted, she tried to hold it back, tried to deny its existence, tried vainly to dampen it down.
And couldn't. She was facing ignominious defeat—with not a clue of what followed—when the hard hand tilting her face shifted. He altered his grip; one thumb pressed insistently in the centre of her chin.
Her jaw eased; her lips parted.
He entered.
The shock of the first touch of tongue against tongue literally curled her toes. She would have gasped, but that was impossible; all she could do was feel. Feel and follow, and sense the reality of that hot hunger, the surprisingly subtle, deeply evocative, seductively physical need. And hold hard against the temptation that streaked through her.
Even while he took arrogance to new heights.
She hadn't thought it possible, but he gathered her more closely, imprinting her soft flesh with the male hardness of his. Ruthlessly confident, he angled his head, and tasted her—languorously, unhurriedly—as if he had all the time in the world.
Then he settled to play.
To advance and retreat, to artfully entice her into joining the game. The very idea shocked her to her toes—and sent shards of excitement flying down her nerves. They stretched, tightened. His lips and tongue continued their tantalizing dance.
She responded—tentatively; instead of the aggressive response she expected, his lips softened fractionally, encouragingly. She dared more, returning the pressure of his lips, the sensuous caress of his tongue.
Without even knowing it, she sank into the kiss.
Triumph streaked through Richard; he mentally crowed. He'd laid waste her starchy resistance; she was soft and pliant, pure magic in his arms. She tasted like the sweetest summer wine. The heady sensation went straight to his head.
And straight to his loins.
Staving off the burgeoning ache, he feasted, careful not to startle her, to let her wits surface enough to recognize his liberties. He wasn't fool enough to think she wouldn't break away if he gave her sufficient cause. She was no simple country miss, no naive maid—her three words, her attitude, had reeked of authority. And she wasn't young; no young lady would have had the confidence to command him, of all men, to "Put me down." She was not girl, but woman—and she fitted very well, supple and curvaceous in his arms.
How well she was fitting, how tempting her curves were, locked hard against him, registered, and raised his lust to new heights. The soft, silken sway of her heavy hair, a warm, living veil drifting over the backs of his hands, and the perfume—wildflowers, the promise of spring and the fecundity of growing things—that rose from the silky locks, converted lust to pain.
It was he who pulled back and ended the kiss—it was that or suffer worse agony. For he would have to let her go, untouched, unsampled, his lust unsated; a snow-bound church yard in the depths of a winter's night was a challenge even he balked at.
And, despite the intimate caresses they'd exchanged, he knew she wasn't that sort of lady. He'd breached her walls by sheer brazen recklessness, evoked by her haughty command to put her down. Right now, he'd like to lay her down, but that, he knew, was not to be.
He raised his head.
Her eyes flew wide; she looked at him as if he was a ghost.
"Lady preserve me."
Her words were a fervent whisper; condensed by the cold, they misted the air between them. She searched his face—for what, Richard could not guess; with his customary arrogance, he raised one brow.
Lips, soft and rosy—much rosier now than before—firmed. "By the Lady's veil! This is madness!"
She shook her head, and pushed against his chest; bemused, Richard set her down carefully, then released her. Frowning absentmindedly, she stepped around and past him, then whirled to face him. "Who are you?"
"Richard Cynster." He sketched her an elegant bow. Straightening, he trapped her gaze. "Entirely at your service."
Her eyes snapped. "Do you make a habit of accosting innocent women in graveyards?"
"Only when they walk into my arms."
"I requested you to put me down."
"You ordered me to put you down—and I did. Eventually."
"Yes. But..." Her tirade—he was sure it would have been a tirade—died on her lips. She blinked at him. "You're English!"
An accusation rather than an observation. Richard arched a brow. "Cynsters are."
Eyes narrowing, she studied his face. "Norman descent?"
He smiled, proudly arrogant. "We came over with the Conqueror." Smile deepening, he let his gaze sweep her. "We still like to dabble, of course." Looking up, he trapped her gaze. "To keep our hand in with the occasional conquest."
Even in the weak light, he saw her glare, saw the sparks that flared in her eyes.
"I'll have you know this is all a very big mistake!"
With that, she whirled away. Snow crunched, louder than before as, in a flurry of skirts and cloak, she stalked off. Brows rising, Richard watched her storm through the lych gate, saw the quick, frowning glance she threw him from the shadows beneath. Then, with a toss of her head, chin high, she marched up the road.
Toward the inn.
The ends of Richard's lips lifted. His brows rose another, more considering, notch. Mistake?
He watched until she disappeared from sight, then stirred, straightened his shoulders, and, lips curving in a wolfish smile, strolled unhurriedly in her wake.
Other Titles from Stephanie Laurens
Cynster Series
Cynster Sisters Trilogy
Viscount Breckenridge to the Rescue
The Capture of the Earl of Glencrae
Cynster Sisters Duo
Cynster Special
Cynster Next Generation
The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
The Casebook of Barnaby Adair Novels
The Peculiar Case of Lord Finsbury’s Diamonds
The Curious Case of Lady Latimer’s Shoes
Loving Rose: The Redemption of Malcolm Sinclair
Bastion Club Series
Captain Jack’s Woman
(Prequel)
Black Cobra Quartet Series
Other Novels
Medieval
Novellas
Melting Ice
– from the anthologies
Rough Around the Edges
and
Scandalous Brides
Rose in Bloom
– from the anthology
Scottish Brides
Scandalous Lord Dere
– from the anthology
Secrets of a Perfect Night
Lost and Found
– from the anthology
Hero, Come Back
The Fall of Rogue Gerrard
– from the anthology
It Happened One Night
The Seduction of Sebastian Trantor
– from the anthology
It Happened One Season
Short Stories
The Wedding Planner
– from the anthology
Royal Weddings
A Return Engagement
– from the anthology
Royal Bridesmaids
UK-Style Regency Romances
Tangled Reins
Four in Hand
Impetuous Innocent
Fair Juno
The Reasons for Marriage
A Lady of Expectations
An Unwilling Conquest
A Comfortable Wife
Table of Contents
The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
Other Titles from Stephanie Laurens
About the Author
#1
New York Times
bestselling author Stephanie Laurens began writing romances as an escape from the dry world of professional science. Her hobby quickly became a career when her first novel was accepted for publication, and with entirely becoming alacrity, she gave up writing about facts in favor of writing fiction.
All Laurens’s works to date are historical romances, ranging from medieval times to the mid 1900s, and her settings range from Scotland to India. The majority of her works are set in the period of the British Regency. Laurens has published 60 works of historical romance, including 33
New York Times
bestsellers. Laurens has sold more than 20 million print, audio, and e-books globally. All her works are continuously available in print and e-book formats in English worldwide, and have been translated into many other languages. An international bestseller, among other accolades, Laurens has received the Romance Writers of America® prestigious RITA® Award for Best Romance Novella 2008, for
The Fall of Rogue Gerrard
.
Laurens’s continuing novels featuring the Cynster family are widely regarded as classics of the historical romance genre. Other series include the
Bastion Club Novels
, the
Black Cobra Quartet
, and the
Casebook of Barnaby Adair Novels
. All of her previous works remain available in print and all e-book formats.
For information on all published novels, and on upcoming releases and updates on novels yet to come, visit Stephanie’s website at
www.stephanielaurens.com
To sign up for Stephanie’s Email Newsletter (a private list) for heads-up alerts as new books are released, exclusive sneak peeks into upcoming books, and exclusive sweepstakes contests, follow the prompts at
Stephanie’s Email Newsletter Sign-up Page
Stephanie lives with her husband and two cats in the hills outside Melbourne, Australia. When she isn’t writing, she’s reading, and if she isn’t reading, she’ll be tending her garden.
