My Lord Immortality (Immortal Rogues #3)

My Lord Immortality (Immortal Rogues #3) Page 28

The words trailed away as she moistened her lips in a revealing motion. Sebastian gritted his teeth, feeling the fierce awareness of her own smoldering desire. He should return to his chambers, he sternly warned himself. The heavy pulse of awareness was too potent on this night.

It would take one glance, one touch for both of them to be consumed in flames.

But even as he acknowledged the peril, he discovered himself lost in the dark beauty of her eyes.

"Ah."

"I am sorry if I woke you."

"No, I was not asleep."

The small pink tongue once again peeked out to touch the fullness of her lips. Sebastian swallowed a groan.

"It is very warm, is it not?" she demanded in husky tones. "I do not recall a summer in London so smothering before."

If it had been warm before, it was now blazing. A fine sheen of perspiration spread over his skin.

"Yes, it is very warm. Do you dislike the heat?"

"It can be discomforting," she admitted.

His lips curved in wry acknowledgement. "Indeed."

As if realizing he was speaking of more than the ternperature in the air, her absurdly long lashes fluttered downward. The hint of confusion was oddly erotic.

"At least William is settled for the night. He was rather restless earlier."

Sebastian sucked in a deep breath. The last thing in the world he desired to discuss was Amelia's brother. Not when she was standing mere inches from his stirring body. Not when the scent of her filled his senses. Not when he had only to lower his head to capture the sweet lips in a kiss that would sweep both of them into paradise.

"I know that it is difficult for him to remain hidden," he followed her lead with an effort. "It is little wonder that he is restless."

"Yes." She paused before wrinkling her nose. "I fear that he sneaked the kittens into his bed. It was very naughty of him and I have made him promise to return them to the kitchen the first thing in the morning. I hope you do not mind?"

"Of course not." He regarded her pale complexion for a long moment. "You are very patient with him."

She lifted her gaze in surprise at his words. "He is my brother. And I love him."

"You speak of it so casually, but such devotion is rare. I can think of no other maiden that I have ever encountered who would willingly surrender her own needs to ensure the happiness of another."

A hint of color touched her cheeks. "That is absurd."

"Is it? Tell me how many of your acquaintances are struggling to provide a home for their family rather than fluttering their way through the Season?"

The blush only deepened. "Sebastian."

Sebastian offered a slow smile. She would never admit that she had done anything extraordinary in saving her brother from the asylum.

"Very well." His gaze shifted on its own to the provocative shimmer of her pale skin. The brief distraction had done nothing to ease the tension that throbbed between them. "I will leave you to find your book."

He had every intention of turning to leave, but even as he sternly commanded his reluctant feet to move, she was reaching up to lay her hands softly upon the bare skin of his chest.

"No. I... I do not wish to be alone."

Sebastian froze, his throat closing as he battled the dark lust that flared through him. Not now, he fiercely warned his surging passions. Amelia was clearly troubled. She needed his strength, not his aching desire.

Lifting his hands, he covered her fingers as they lay against him.

"What is it, Amelia?"

A frown tugged at her brows. "I do not know. It is ridiculous, but I cannot be at ease. There is something in the air that troubles me."

Sebastian felt a measure of surprise. How could she possibly sense the vague threat that had plagued him throughout the day? Unless ... his gaze lowered to where the Medallion lay against her skin.

"I will remain if you wish," he said in low tones.

"Thank you."

He regarded the dark, vulnerable eyes, his desire abruptly threaded with deep tenderness.

"Shall I read to you the intriguing philosophies of Plato? Or do you prefer the teachings of Aristotle?" he teased.

A prompt grimace eased her frown. "Neither."

"Philistine," he chided.

"I wish you to tell me of yourself."

He was caught off guard by her sudden demand. "What do you wish to know?"

"Everything."

"Everything?"

The raven curls rippled down her back as she tilted her head upward to meet his bemused gaze.

"Tell me of your life."

He gave a rather wry smile, recalling the endless years that had rolled past with barely a ripple.

There had always been a vague contentment in his studies. Even an edge of arrogant satisfaction in his superior existence.

It was not until Amelia had crashed into his life that he realized that there had been something missing in that placid contentment. Now he feared that he was very much addicted to the chaotic passions she had unleashed.

"You would no doubt consider it a tedious existence," he admitted. "I devote most of my hours to various studies and debates with my brethren."

Not surprisingly, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. "There are no entertainments?"

His smile widened. "Our view of entertainment tends to be less frantic than that of humans.

We are Immortals, after all, and possess endless opportunities to appreciate a fine work of art or compose the perfect sonata. I have devoted centuries to a single sculpture. Mortals do not enjoy such luxury."

Amelia stiffened at his words, her expression becoming guarded. Belatedly he feared that his words must have reminded her vividly of the differences between them.

"No, I suppose we do not," she murmured.

"Amelia, what is it?"

"You are an Immortal. How insignificant a mere maiden must seem to you."

"No." He squeezed her hands tightly. "Never insignificant."

The dark eyes searched his with a barely concealed anxiety. "But how could I not be? I shall be here and gone while you continue for an eternity."

Reaching out, he softly cupped her cheek in his hand. Insignificant? The mere thought was enough to make him bite back a choking laugh. She might as well claim that the moon and the sun were insignificant.

"Amelia." He patiently waited for her gaze to lock with his own.

"Yes?"

"As I said, not even vampires can read the future. You are the bearer of the Medallion. It offers you powers far beyond those of other mortals."

Her brow wrinkled in concentration. "Powers such as the binding you spoke of?"

His heart missed a full beat. Now was not the time to speak of such things. Not when the

darkness was weaving its potent magic.

"Yes."

Seemingly unaware of the danger kindling in the air, she slowly brushed her fingers over the skin of his chest. Sparks of delicious heat attacked him.

"What does it mean? What will happen to us?"

His thoughts threatened to cloud up as he grimly grasped her fingers and held them still. He knew precisely what was about to happen if she continued to stroke him in such a fashion.

"I think it best that we discuss such things on the morrow," he husked.

"Sebastian." She regarded him steadily, her expression somber. "You have done your best to avoid and distract me. I would far prefer the truth. What has happened between us?"

Chapter Twelve

Amelia felt lightheaded as she gazed into the impossible beauty of Sebastian's countenance.

The odd sensation could easily have been blamed upon the unbearable heat. Or the sleepless nights. Or even the disturbing tension that had plagued her throughout the day.

But she knew quite well that none of those could explain her pounding heart and the honey heat that poured through her blood.

It was those eyes, she silently concluded. Those silvery eyes with their eternal wisdom and that calm, gentle strength. Eyes that could hold her heart captive with frightening ease.

And of course, she wryly acknowledged, her sense of dizziness was not notably eased by the wide, naked bulk of his chest. It was little wonder that gentlemen were expected to keep themselves decently covered. If maidens were exposed to the sight of smooth male skin stretched over muscles that rippled with fluid ease, there might very well be a riot throughout the ballrooms of London.

Inanely she recalled the feel of warm silk as her fingers explored the fascinating planes and angles of that chest. An exploration that might have continued far longer if he had not brought such a firm halt to her forbidden pleasure.

Her breath caught and she sternly chastised herself for the treacherous meanderings of her thoughts. Unbridled lust might be a novel and startlingly delicious experience for an innocent maiden, but at least it was a perfectly normal, human emotion. Her concern should be focused upon those sensations that were decidedly foreign.

Sensations no mere mortal should be capable of experiencing.

With an effort she sucked in her breath and regarded her companion's closed expression.

Tonight she was determined to have answers to the questions that had plagued her for days.