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It had taken the power of God alone to get
him to stop kissing her in the snow and the strength of angels to
push his feet toward the house.

He made his way down the stairs to the dining
room and cursed his eyes for scanning the room in hopes of seeing
Katherine.

She was nowhere to be seen.

Perplexed, he didn't even see Lord Marks
until the man cleared his throat. "Say, I'm not sure I've ever seen
you so distracted, your grace."

"Yes well, I…" Benedict felt off balance, as
if someone had pushed him onto ice without skates. "Have an
aversion to cold weather," he offered, wanting to slap himself for
such a ridiculous excuse.

"Do you now?" Lord Marks looked amused, his
brown eyes twinkling as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes." Benedict stood his ground and promptly
began to sweat. He still felt odd as if something was off, perhaps
the universe was trying to communicate with him that he needed to
stop being a besotted fool and kissing girls who would rather
fillet him alive than marry him. And then, his eyes again scanned
the doors to the dining room. They opened.

His jaw slackened.

Lord Marks cleared his throat. "Close your
mouth before you scare the poor thing. She is not to be the
meal."

Saints alive, let her at least be the
dessert then.

Katherine walked in with more grace than she
ought to possess considering she had only hours ago tripped out of
the carriage and started the most arousing snowball fight he had
ever had the pleasure of participating in.

His eyes openly admired her form in the blue
dinner dress. Had she any idea how much skin she was showing? The
poor thing was going to freeze to death! Suddenly irate and
irritated that she would think nothing of her health, Benedict
stomped over to where she stood and grabbed her arm roughly,
placing her hand in the crook of his elbow and covering it with his
own. A feral growl rumbled in the back of his throat.

Yes, like a dog. He growled to show his
displeasure. Was he now at odds with his body? It seemed to
instinctively do things it ought not do. Poetry? Growling? Staring?
Salivating? Sweating?

Cursing, he clenched her hand and gave her a
tight smile. "Beautiful dress."

"Why thank you. I—"

"Where would the rest of it be? Hmm?" His
eyes flickered to her breasts and then back up to her face, and to
his ultimate shame, back down to her breasts where they stayed for
a painfully long time until Katherine nudged him in the ribs.

"Manners, you devil." She winked.

His stomach did an odd sort of flop.

His heart increased his blood flow to all the
wrong areas of anatomy, and when he made introductions to the rest
of the dinner party, he felt such a stab of jealousy when Sir
Constantine's gaze flew to her bosom, he thought his head would
explode.

If not for Katherine being on his arm, he
would have ripped the man's head off and beat him with it. But the
minute he tensed, Katherine looked up through dark lashes and
smiled brilliantly, striking him dumb and immobile.

"Shall we sit?" she whispered, her lips only
inches from his.

Why did her simple invitation seem to be one
of sin rather than common sense?
Shall we sit?
Why the devil
would he sit when he wanted nothing more than to lie down, plunder,
possess… Truly he could think of any number of actions he would
rather give his full participation to than sitting.

Alas, he was in public, and though his
reputation laughed in the face of propriety, he couldn't bring
himself to ravish the girl in public, no matter how badly he
desired it. Katherine's eyes crinkled at the sides as she offered a
small smile and brought her hand down her neck to her chest.

Minx.

Dessert, yes she would be his dessert if he
made it through dinner. But about the likelihood of accomplishing
that, he had his doubts.

By the time the third course was served,
Benedict had imagined all sorts of ways to kill oneself with a
fork.

There was of course, the slow death of
pounding one's head against the sharp object. Naturally, he could
slice his skin with the knife if he felt so compelled. And his
personal favorite, trying to swallow the thing and hoping death
would come swiftly in the form of asphyxiation.

None of those options, however, provided him
a fast enough escape from his current predicament.

It had all started with the soup.

And went downhill from there.

There was nothing particularly wrong with the
soup. It was hot, and he was hungry, but his damned eye had the
ridiculous notion that it needed to pay attention to the woman on
his right.

Katherine, to be exact.

And hell if that eye didn't train on her very
lips as she held the spoon near them and closed her eyes in
ecstasy.

He had shifted in his chair.

Deuced uncomfortable dinner to be honest.

He prayed the soup would be taken away and
fifteen agonizing minutes later, it was replaced with something
new.

Ah! Yes, at least roast goose would give him
respite. For what woman in all creation could make roast goose look
erotic?

Oh, how wrong he had been.

Even now his body tightened at the
thought.

And he wasn't quite sure eating dinner would
ever be enjoyable again, at least not when he had guests
surrounding him and Katherine dropping pieces of meat into her
delicate mouth. He nearly wept as she would close her eyes and moan
when no one was looking, no one but him unfortunately. Her
vulgarity knew no end, yet he found it fascinating as the low
rumble would start in her throat and spread until he nearly dropped
his fork each time she brought food to her lips. Finally, she would
swallow and take a sip of wine, what he wouldn't give to be
glassware in that moment.

Well, he hadn't eaten anything at all, which
of course caused a ridiculous amount of questions. Was he not
feeling well? Had the ride from town been rough?
If only
, he
thought,
if only it was anything but demure.

Voice hoarse, he had merely shook his head
and prayed for Katherine to spill her wine or do something
clumsy.

Instead, his unsteady hand hit the wine
causing it to topple onto the white cloth. Once dessert was served,
the women retired away from the men, and he was finally at peace
with his cheroot and brandy out on the balcony.

And then he felt her.

Benedict couldn't help but think it had to be
some sort of sixth sense, that every time she was near, he would
begin to shake and lose control of his calm exterior. His body
would heat, thinking on her until he wanted to begin stripping his
clothes.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, lightly
falling beside him, her dainty arms leaned across the balcony,
breasts spilled over her dress, and again he was struck dumb. Why
in blazes hadn't she worn a coat?

"You'll catch your death out here," he
grumbled, disgusted with his lack of bodily control. As it was, he
was having a devil of a time keeping his arousal in check, and he
hadn't even touched the girl.

"Well, good thing I have my
fiancé
nearby to warm me up." Katherine looked up at him with merry eyes
and patted him lightly on the shoulder.

It was his undoing.

That one touch.

The one gaze from her eyes.

And again he found himself falling, as if he
could no longer see straight or stay in balance if his life
depended on it. His need was so great that he wanted to yell and
laugh at the same time.

Instead he just kissed her.

But to say it was just a kiss would be like
saying the ocean was just a mass of water, or the sun was just a
star. No, this kiss was unlike any other kiss he had ever
experienced in his lifetime or hoped to experience.

Because, he thought as his lips danced with
hers, it was shared with his other half.

And in that kiss, as she sighed into his
arms, as his tongue dove deep into the velvet moisture of her
mouth, he knew he wanted to continue to fall if it meant she would
be the one to catch him.

In the end, was that not what everyone else
wanted?

With the strength of a god, he pulled back
and muffled a curse before raising his eyes heavenward. "She's won,
by Jove, she's won."

"Pardon?" Katherine's lips were still swollen
from their kiss, her eyes barely visible through her thick lashes.
"Who won?"

"The devil."

"I thought you were the devil?"

He snickered. "From where did you think I
descended? Thin air? And I was referring to my aunt."

"Oh?" Katherine squinted at him as if he had
in fact turned into a pink unicorn. To be fair, he was acting like
a complete idiot, spouting nonsense into the sky like a fool. He
sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Are you unwell?" she whispered near his
face, too near, for it caused him to jerk back and trip. He hadn't
the grace or common sense to break his fall as he collapsed onto
the hard ground and looked up into her amused eyes.

Gracefully, she knelt down and felt his head.
"You're positively flushed, shall I take you to bed?"

"Please," he begged, wanting much more than
she was offering, innocent that she was.

"I meant," she scolded, hitting him with her
hand, "should I help you to you room then promptly leave you to
suffer alone?"

Well, at least she hadn't offered to kill
him. He had been quite forward with her all evening, and he deduced
he was already on some sort of borrowed time considering his
behavior was appalling. Not that he wasn't used to offending
others. But not her.

Not her.

Suddenly, he wanted much more than to give in
because his aunt desired him to marry.

He wanted to.

Devil take him… he wanted to treat her…

Why was it so hard to say in his head?

He wanted to court the girl, to do right by
her.

He waved in the air, literally lifted his
hand and waved, as all of his best laid plans flew into the night
sky. There would be no ravishing, no ruining, no laughing in the
face of marriage.

No, he imagined he was the type of man that
once marriage took him prisoner, he would happily, if not
drunkenly, offer his leg willingly to the ball and chain and boast
about it for the rest of his days.

Such a nuisance that.

Katherine felt his forehead again. "You do
not feel feverish. Tell me, what is your name, and where are
you?"

Oh, he could have fun with this one. Perhaps
just a little ruin never hurt anyone? He gave a goofy grin and
shrugged.

"Oh, my!" Katherine helped him to his feet
and immediately began reprimanding him as she led him into the
house. "And to think you would get so foxed! My goodness, have you
any care for your reputation? Never mind. I momentarily forgot with
whom I was speaking. But we both know how accident-prone you can
be. Imagine if you had fallen from the balcony! Whatever would we
do!"

He smiled smugly. Of course she cared for his
welfare. It felt good.

"I mean…" She cursed under her breath.
"Imagine the mess the servants would have to clean up, and then I
would have to tell your dragon of an aunt that I led you to your
death, and she would most likely say
finally,
considering I
have brought you quite close at least three times."

"Four." He coughed then slapped the silly
grin back in place.

Her eyes narrowed.

He purposefully tripped on the first
stair.

Shaking her head, she helped him up the
stairs and continued her tirade until she pushed open the bedroom
doors and laid him across the bed.

Surely in his drunken — albeit falsely
drunken — state, one could not blame him for taking full
advantage.

And take full advantage he did. With a sigh
he pulled her onto his body and closed his eyes.

Seduction by Moonlight

"
Oomph!
" Katherine fell across
his hard muscled body with a thud. Well, now he'd done it. She was
in somewhat of a pickle. How the devil was she to pry her body from
his when the man's hands were pulling her tighter and tighter
against him?

Honestly, she'd never seen him so foxed
before. Was he that upset over the marriage? Perhaps it was
boredom. He was, after all, the devil. Meaning he was used to much
more lively entertainment than eating a casual dinner and smoking a
cheroot.

She sighed and tried to pry her body
free.

Benedict's response was a moan. His lips
somehow found hers again and he worked his spell, his wicked magic
over her body until she was sure she was going to go to a very
fiery place.

They were not married.

They were only betrothed.

Accidently, of course.

And now she was in his bedroom. His bedroom!
Acting the absolute wanton, but oh, the things he did with his
tongue.

"Benedict," she whispered against his lips.
"Benedict, you must let me go."

"No."

"No?" His lips moved to her neck, his warm
tongue traced the curve of her jaw.

Oh, the wicked things he did with his tongue.
"Yes, you want me to let you go, or no, you want to stay?"

"Yes. No!"

"Wait, do you mean yes or no? Sorry love, I'm
somewhat foxed and need you to be a little more direct."

She kicked him with her foot.

He laughed. "I deserved that. It appears when
I asked for you to be direct, you were under the impression I
wanted violence."

Katherine closed her eyes and leaned her
forehead against his. "You are impossible."

"So I've been told." He sighed and then
miraculously released her. Only, she wasn't prepared so she fell
off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor.