An Affair with Mr. Kennedy (39 page)

Rodin and Zeno followed closely behind. “What fortunate men we are, Monsieur Kennedy. To bed with beauty as well as talent, yes?” Cassie glanced backward, curious to catch a glimpse of Zeno’s expression. A British frown was supplanted by an accommodating grin. After all, they were in Paris.
Mais oui.

Chapter Thirty-two

“N
o morbid thoughts, I hope.” Zeno’s lips brushed softly against the nape of her neck. Cassie leaned far over the stone wall of the bridge and gazed into the icy water of the Seine. Her laughter carried like the breeze wafting just above the river current. Moonlight danced over ripples of sparkling, undulating water. It was one of those special nights, an evening he would lock in his memory and always cherish.

“I don’t believe I shall ever have a morbid thought again.” She rotated within the circle of his arms. “They’ve been chased away of late.” Her words played softly against his mouth. “By a number of hair-raising adventures with a certain Yard man.”

“Mmm, yes. I am about to kiss the very bravest woman in all of France and England.” He grazed the tip of her nose with his lips.

“Plucky, perhaps, but hardly courageous. In the face of danger I take to my heels with a care for my neck.”

Beguiled by her fiery independence, her astounding, fresh-faced beauty, he headed for the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. The one that made her sigh. “And such a pretty neck.” His trail of carnal delights ended at the base of her throat.

There it was, a little moan of pleasure.

He lifted his head and nibbled soft, sensuous bites over her mouth. “Mmm, you taste of champagne.” Her lips opened, inviting him deeper. He needed little encouragement, for he was ravenous for her. “We must get to the hotel, before I ravage you here on the Pont Royale.”

On their way into the lobby, Cassie bought a blush-colored carnation from a flower vendor, snapped off the stem, and slipped the fringy bloom into his lapel.

In the corridor not far from her room, she pushed him against the wall and on tiptoe licked the curl of his ear. Christ, she was pure torture. His body burned for her, being in near constant arousal for hours now. She inhaled the fragrance of his boutonniere. “One of my favorite scents in all the world.”

The ends of his mouth tugged upward. “Me or the posy?”

Her tongue slipped along the upper edge of his mouth. “Mmm, you are both peppery and spicy.”

“And what scent are you?” He grabbed her and turned them both. Now she was pressed to the wall and his body. He leaned in and rucked up her skirt. His fingers slipped between her thighs. “Tell me, Cassie, if I got down on my knees here, and dipped into these moist pink petals, how might you greet an innocent passerby?” The bouquet of their sexual arousal permeated his senses as she answered him with an utterance that was sublimely unintelligible.

“I suppose,” he nibbled at her lush mouth as he pressed his length against her, “a gasp and moan is universally understood.”

Her breath stirred a delicate tempest in the air around them. The movement of her chest, as it rose and fell—all his sensibilities faded away, mesmerized by the sweep of a pretty pink tongue over her upper lip.

“You do that again and I swear I’ll have you here against the wall.”

Her slow smile made a dimple, and she challenged him with her eyes. Growling, he took her by the hand and placed the key in the lock.

She raised a brow. “Rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I have … a degree of confidence.” His grin turned humble.

She slipped between Zeno and the door. With the knob at her back, she opened the door a crack. Peering inside, she found the sitting room empty. No Rob and Cécile. “No doubt you believe you are forgiven?”

Zeno swallowed. “I will never, ever wound you again in such a way. And I avow not a single lascivious thought for Jayne Wells, even when she rubbed up against me.”

Cassie blinked. “She rubbed up against you?”

“I …”

Her arms crossed, brows furrowed, lips pouted.

“I became hard—but all I could think about was you.” He sighed. Christ, he had blurted out this nonsense as if Cassie was a priest in a confessional.

She opened the door just wide enough to back into the room, but did not invite him inside.

“I handcuffed the wretched woman to a chair to keep her off me—” The door slammed in his face. “—Cassie.”

The latch turned and clicked.

Zeno paced the floor outside her room. He supposed he looked as guilty as sin itself. Even now, he likely appeared wild-eyed and desperate. How had such a debacle happened? Moments ago he was making love to the woman of his heart and inches away from having her. A dull ache throbbed through his body.

He strode up and down the corridor until his pacing threatened to wear a spot in the carpet runner. Earlier this evening he had waved off her escorts: gendarmes, who were also to have guarded her room tonight. That left no one but him to keep watch.

Zeno exhaled and settled himself against the wall of the corridor. He reviewed his mistakes, including the awful choice of words he used to describe interactions with Jayne during interrogation.

Perhaps the most romantic night of his life, ruined by a faux pas.

What exactly had he fallen into with Cassie? He thought about the word
love
. Certainly, she had tempted him from the moment he turned around that first morning in the mews. Or perhaps even earlier, the moment she stepped out of the carriage to take possession of Number 10. He remembered how patiently she untangled the hounds caught up in leashes and skirt.

Odd bits of their courtship sprang to mind. Zeno recalled every passionate evening and wondered, if he never made love to her again, were there enough memories to cherish for a lifetime? He refused to think about losing her.

Her door opened.

NO MATTER HOW vexed she might be, Cassie’s heart skipped a beat when she found him standing in the hallway. A knight in tarnished armor stalwartly guarded her door. Her stomach fluttered as the infuriating siren in her body sang silent love songs.

Zeno raised his head and a shock of hair fell forward. He leaned against the wall in the corridor, his smile slight and sufficiently chastened. “I can explain.”

She opened the door wider.

His eyes bulged.

His mouth dropped open.

She wore a new, pale blue French corset and matching camisole edged in black satin ribbon and small bows, the silk fabric sheer enough for him to see all of her. Brief pantalets, black silk stockings, and pale blue garters completed the effect.

A dark fire ignited in his eyes.

Lowering her gaze she discovered the lingerie lived up to the shopkeeper’s promise. “Mother once explained to me that a man has little governance over his penis when it comes to arousal, but a commanding mastery over whom he chooses to couple with.”

A slow, thin-lipped smile widened on his face. “Dr. Erskine is a very wise woman.”

He launched himself off the wall and swept her up into his arms. Carrying her into the room, he made a half turn, hooked the door with his foot, and slammed it shut.

“Bedroom?”

“Mon Dieu.”
Cassie moaned. “After days without you I can think of nothing else.” She pointed the way.

Zeno placed her on the edge of the plain four-poster and yanked off her pantalets. “Very pretty, but they are in my way.”

Cassie uttered sighs of encouragement as he unhooked the exquisite French undergarment. He stood between her raised knees, gently stroking the insides of her thighs. “Let’s keep the stockings on for now.” A lazy grin enhanced the desire in his eyes.

She lay naked and spread out before him. She wore nothing but black hose and pale blue garters. Her bare upper limbs trembled, waiting, anticipating his kiss.

His sensuous mouth caressed the inside flesh of her thighs. He leaned farther over her torso to suckle nipples that were pointed and ready. Gently at first, and then harder. Her hips arched as a wave of excitement shot through her.

She moaned her own directive. “I will see all of you, Zak.”

He did not remove his covetous, hungry gaze as he tore at his necktie. Cassie ripped the buttons off his slacks and his erection sprang to life in front of her. She stroked hard, smooth velvet.

His eyes closed and his head dropped back with a groan. She blew a warm breeze the length of his phallus and he tore at his shirt buttons. Shedding the rest of his clothes, she caught a glimpse of chiseled buttocks, the product of years of horsemanship and rugby. Moisture grew between her legs as she admired the man’s lean, hard body and long muscular legs.

Her man
.

She lay back on the bed linen propped on her elbows. “Such a handsomely built detective inspector.”

He placed himself between her legs. “And he is about to investigate.” Grabbing her knees, he yanked her bottom to the edge of the bed.

His mouth pressed past the light brown curls between her legs as she flung her arms overhead and abandoned herself to the long, slow strokes of his tongue. The man had a devilish way of encouraging this sensuous, wicked side of her. His hands moved over the flat of her belly to cup her breasts and rub over hardened peaks. She shuddered.

“You are the most exquisitely beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He voiced the very words she had been thinking—about him.

She arched as his fingers brushed past moist curls. He teased her until she asked for what she wanted. “Inside me. Now.”

“It is my pleasure to give you pleasure.” He used one, then two fingers to delve deep. She pressed into him as his lips and tongue found the engorged spot between her legs to suckle and stroke and circle.

“Yes.” Her body vibrated in arousal.

“I am intoxicated by the taste of you.” His mouth glistened with her essence. His every touch became a testament to his affection. He paused, paying careful attention to her every moan and sigh, every arch and shudder. As she neared the edge, he
lifted his fingers away. “I shall prolong your climax.”

She growled at his deliberate delay and, in challenge, took hold of his shaft and stroked until he forced her hand away. “Cassie,” he groaned, “I have no idea how long I will be able to last. I have restrained a substantial passion for you all evening.”

He crawled on top of her, a predatory animal after his mate. His rigid, jerking organ ready for penetration. She reached out and he swept her into her arms.

She drew his mouth down over a breast and he suckled and nipped and fondled each nipple while she uttered nonsensical words, in the vernacular of the animal kingdom.

He broke off to come up for air. “Such beautiful, speechless speech.”

“And what of yours?” She raised herself up on her elbows to reach his nipples. “What mindless words shall you make?” She tongued and nibbled until he groaned from her caressing.

Reaching under, to the small of her back, he slid his hands lower to cup each buttock. He tilted her pelvis so that she might take all of him. He eased in gently, inch by inch, until he filled her up with the hard, smooth length of his phallus.

And she took all of him. Answered every thrust. Wrapping her legs about his hips, she drew him in. He spoke against her lips. “I will see your finish, Cassie.” Commanding, insistent, and completely generous, he coaxed her ever closer, driving in and out until she hovered at the point of orgasm. As if on cue her body shattered into a million pieces of pleasure, shuddered, then bucked beneath him.

He pulled her tight, for he meant to feel every small contraction ripple through her body. “Ahh. God yes,” he groaned; his climax came with the next deep thrust. And he answered her sighs with whispers of soft-spoken declarations. Far from the mindless utterances a man used in the throes of passion. These were emotions long stored away in his heart, released into the air, a fleeting gift to her, which made them irrevocable and glorious.

Abruptly, he pulled out. “We didn’t use a rubber.” He flopped down onto the bed, and gulped for air. His breathing harsh, his groan deep.

She added her moan to his. “We have been rather hit-or-miss at this condom business, haven’t we?” She threw a leg over his thigh, tucking herself into the curve his body.

“I’ll purchase some first thing in the morning. As soon as I find an open barbershop.”

Cassie brushed her hand through the small hairs of his chest. “Tomorrow is Sunday.”

“Bollocks.” The utterance was all he could manage as her fingernails moved down his chest. She licked a nipple and his lower extremity jerked.

“Cassie, please.” If the animal in him got its way, he would have her again and again until they were both raw from it.

Resting her chin on his chest, she ran a hand down his trim stomach and made the muscles contract. Gently, she played with a pearl of semen that emerged from the tip of his penis. “There are other ways, are there not, of pleasing each other?”

He opened a sleepy eye, and propped an arm behind his head. “And what do you know of such things?”

Cassie tilted her head. “I was married. Briefly.”