not answer. His golden eyes were glittering with an intensity that in any other man would have been alarming. There seemed to be more annoyed impatience than sweet affection in his gaze, however. But perhaps that was just her imagination.
Without a word he removed her spectacles and bonnet and set them on the rock beside his hat. Then his mouth came slowly and deliberately down on hers and Emily forgot everything else except the hard, commanding heat of his kiss.
It was all she had ever dreamed his kiss would be during those still, dark hours in the middle of the night when she had allowed herself to dream hopeless dreams.
In truth, it was more than she had dreamed. She could never have fully imagined the feel of his mouth on hers because she had never experienced anything quite like it. This was nothing like those kisses she had received five years ago. The sensation of Simon's arms around her and the overwhelming intimacy of his mouth effectively shattered the fragile romantic illusions of a lifetime and taught her the true meaning of passion in one searing moment.
Simon's hand, which had been curved around her waist, began to slide up along her side toward her breast. Emily sensed dimly that she should call a halt at once but it seemed beyond her power to do so. This was S. A. Traherne, the man she had put on a pedestal, the man she had loved from afar with a pure and noble passion… the man of her dreams.
Now, in a blinding moment of sensual clarity, Emily realized that Simon reciprocated her love. The wonder of it was overpowering.
Simon's fingers continued upward over the bodice of the riding habit until the small, soft weight of Emily's breast was resting on the edge of his hand. Emily heard him groan as his thumb gently traced the outline of one soft curve. Her nipple was suddenly, achingly, taut under the heavy wool. Emily shivered and Simon's palm closed possessively over her breast.
"Come here, elf," Simon murmured in a rough, husky voice as he eased her across his thighs. He trapped her close to his chest with one bent knee and two iron-hard arms. The strength in him should have frightened Emily, but it did not. This was her dragon and she knew he would keep her safe.
Her fingers splayed across his chest, her nails digging urgently into the fabric of his coat. He smelled good, she thought. A combination of leather and horse and masculine heat. The scent of him was curiously intoxicating and she found herself burrowing closer into his warmth.
"Part your lips for me," Simon urged softly.
Emily obeyed instinctively. Without any warning, his tongue slid boldly into her mouth. The shock of it made Emily gasp and pull back. She was suddenly aware of the heavy bulge of his manhood under her thigh. She knew she was turning a bright pink.
"My God, Emily."
For a moment the world seemed to halt. She could barely breathe, let alone respond.
"Emily, open your eyes and look at me."
Dreamily, Emily lifted her lashes and looked up into Simon's harshly carved face. He was so close that she could see him without the aid of her spectacles. She was fascinated by the glittering heat that had washed away the coldness in his eyes. Fire lit the beautiful golden gaze now, a wild flame of masculine desire held under rigid control.
"Dragon," she whispered softly, touching his hard cheek with gentle fingers. "My very own golden-eyed dragon."
He narrowed his eyes as he stared down at her. "Dragons have a dangerous reputation around fair maidens."
She smiled softly up at him. " 'Tis no use breathing fire and smoke in an attempt to frighten me, my lord. I know I am quite safe with you."
"What makes you so certain of that?"
"I know you very well. I have read and reread every letter you have ever sent to me. Still, I must admit, I cannot quite believe this is happening."
"Nor can I." He shifted position abruptly, sliding her off his lap. He raked a hand through his dark hair. "Good God. I must have lost my wits."
"I know what
Without a word he removed her spectacles and bonnet and set them on the rock beside his hat. Then his mouth came slowly and deliberately down on hers and Emily forgot everything else except the hard, commanding heat of his kiss.
It was all she had ever dreamed his kiss would be during those still, dark hours in the middle of the night when she had allowed herself to dream hopeless dreams.
In truth, it was more than she had dreamed. She could never have fully imagined the feel of his mouth on hers because she had never experienced anything quite like it. This was nothing like those kisses she had received five years ago. The sensation of Simon's arms around her and the overwhelming intimacy of his mouth effectively shattered the fragile romantic illusions of a lifetime and taught her the true meaning of passion in one searing moment.
Simon's hand, which had been curved around her waist, began to slide up along her side toward her breast. Emily sensed dimly that she should call a halt at once but it seemed beyond her power to do so. This was S. A. Traherne, the man she had put on a pedestal, the man she had loved from afar with a pure and noble passion… the man of her dreams.
Now, in a blinding moment of sensual clarity, Emily realized that Simon reciprocated her love. The wonder of it was overpowering.
Simon's fingers continued upward over the bodice of the riding habit until the small, soft weight of Emily's breast was resting on the edge of his hand. Emily heard him groan as his thumb gently traced the outline of one soft curve. Her nipple was suddenly, achingly, taut under the heavy wool. Emily shivered and Simon's palm closed possessively over her breast.
"Come here, elf," Simon murmured in a rough, husky voice as he eased her across his thighs. He trapped her close to his chest with one bent knee and two iron-hard arms. The strength in him should have frightened Emily, but it did not. This was her dragon and she knew he would keep her safe.
Her fingers splayed across his chest, her nails digging urgently into the fabric of his coat. He smelled good, she thought. A combination of leather and horse and masculine heat. The scent of him was curiously intoxicating and she found herself burrowing closer into his warmth.
"Part your lips for me," Simon urged softly.
Emily obeyed instinctively. Without any warning, his tongue slid boldly into her mouth. The shock of it made Emily gasp and pull back. She was suddenly aware of the heavy bulge of his manhood under her thigh. She knew she was turning a bright pink.
"My God, Emily."
For a moment the world seemed to halt. She could barely breathe, let alone respond.
"Emily, open your eyes and look at me."
Dreamily, Emily lifted her lashes and looked up into Simon's harshly carved face. He was so close that she could see him without the aid of her spectacles. She was fascinated by the glittering heat that had washed away the coldness in his eyes. Fire lit the beautiful golden gaze now, a wild flame of masculine desire held under rigid control.
"Dragon," she whispered softly, touching his hard cheek with gentle fingers. "My very own golden-eyed dragon."
He narrowed his eyes as he stared down at her. "Dragons have a dangerous reputation around fair maidens."
She smiled softly up at him. " 'Tis no use breathing fire and smoke in an attempt to frighten me, my lord. I know I am quite safe with you."
"What makes you so certain of that?"
"I know you very well. I have read and reread every letter you have ever sent to me. Still, I must admit, I cannot quite believe this is happening."
"Nor can I." He shifted position abruptly, sliding her off his lap. He raked a hand through his dark hair. "Good God. I must have lost my wits."
"I know what
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