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her, sending arrows of liquid fire from her toes to her eyebrows. “Oh Evan…”

He looked up and stared at her. “So lovely, Gwyneth, you taste like…like sunlight…” He smiled and reached into the sink, his fingers scrabbling against the inside of the jam pot. It was warm but not hot and when he rubbed some on her nipples, she cried out at the wonderful sensation.

Sucking and licking, Evan drove her higher with just his tongue. “Mmm. So much better than toast…I want my jam to be served just like this in future…” He painted her again then returned, his mouth widening and pulling her breast inside.

She was lost in the touches, the licks, the teasing nips to buds that were hard, tight and oh so sensitive. Her body trembled, her loins ached and she wanted—no needed—him with a fierce passion that she could not deny.

A tremble shook her, and Evan raised his head. “Yes, Gwyneth…”

“Yes,” she whispered, not even sure what she was agreeing to.

He grabbed her and lifted her onto the table, whisking her skirts away and stepping between her thighs as he unfastened his breeches. “Here. Now. I can’t wait any longer.”

She wrapped her legs around him, gripping his shoulders as she did so. “Neither can I. Please. Here. Now…”

It was fast, hard and wonderful…Evan pushed himself into her willing heat, plunging deep, standing at just the right height to touch the places that shuddered and ached in anticipation.

She sighed out a moan of pleasure and clamped his body to hers, knowing that within moments she was going to explode. Evan, too, breathed a lusty sigh as he began to slowly thrust, rocking them both, rubbing them together like flint against flint, striking sparks of yearning and pushing them both toward a peak that drew ever closer.

The heat, her naked breasts wet from his mouth, his deep penetrating massage of places that burned with need…within moments she was shuddering and tensing, her back arching in his arms, her legs locking him to her so hard she wondered if she’d ever be able to let him go.

He cried out, a final thrust that set off all the fireworks her body contained. She soared high, linked to him, her fingers gripping his shoulders hard enough to tear his shirt and her body shaking even as he pumped himself deeply and shattered, throbbing violently inside her, adding to the magnificent whirl of blissful ecstasy.

“Mother of God,” he murmured, crushing her against him and finding her breast once more. “Jesus…” He continued to suckle and she continued to shudder, his actions prolonging her maelstrom of sensation.

Finally, exhausted, they eased, limbs loosening, bodies unwinding and breath returning to starved lungs.

“Gwyneth,” he whispered, the word coming out like a prayer of joy.

“I know.” She leaned her forehead against his as her legs finally decided to release him. “I know.”

Evan stepped back. “Stay for a moment…”

She couldn’t do anything else, so she didn’t object to the command.

He returned with a cool cloth and gently cleansed her still-tender folds, then he tidied himself and restored them both to a semblance of normalcy.

“Wait,” he said as she made to cover herself. “I missed a bit…” His head dipped and his tongue administered a final long, seductive lick around her nipples.

“Evan,” she groaned. “It’s too much…I like that far too much…”

Letting her go, he straightened her bodice as best he could and then fastened the apron over the torn fabric. “I can’t remember the last time I had such a wonderful time making jam.” His sensual smile made her shiver. “We’ll do this again, Gwyneth, and not on a kitchen table.” His gaze lit with fire. “I want you naked in front of me. And I want time to explore every inch of you…”

She swallowed down a lump of lust that refused to go away. “Yes,” she nodded, held in thrall by that look in his eyes. “Yes.”

Hooves clattered outside and recalled them both to the present, dispelling the erotic haze they’d created.

“Lord, I must go,” she whispered, sliding to the floor. “I cannot run around in torn clothing.”

“And I must take the delivery,” he sighed. “Until later, love.”

She nodded. “Until later, Evan.”

Hurrying away, she sped upstairs to her chambers and dressed once more, adding a chemise to the light lawn gown. Her hand still shook and she closed her eyes for a moment, reliving the feel of a man, the desire…the pleasure…

A door was opening inside her. She could step through it and become the sensual woman she’d buried so long ago. The question was, should she?

With a shrug, she told herself that only time would tell. And with that thought in mind, she left her room and headed back downstairs. Now she had to turn her attention to tomorrow’s fête.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“He’s here.”

Jeremy’s call echoed through the rooms of Wolfbridge Manor and brought the residents scurrying to the hall. One of them had been watching the drive since mid-afternoon and it was now late, they’d dined, and dusk was giving way to that in-between period where there was hardly any light but it wasn’t full dark.

Finally, after what seemed like weeks, Giles had returned from London.

Gwyneth stood with her gentlemen, eager to set eyes on the man who had literally saved her life and offered her a new one. She was beyond grateful and so very happy to see him arrive home where he belonged.

“Hullo…” He jumped down from the carriage, seeing the impatient faces awaiting him. “Since you’re all doing nothing, how about taking care of my bags?”

Jeremy laughed, Gabriel followed and everyone was busy for a few moments, talking to the driver and unloading Giles’s modest amount of luggage.

He walked straight to Gwyneth and took her hands in his. “All right?”

She nodded. “Yes, quite all

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