lacking in honor when it comes to dealing with women. Ask anyone around here and he will tell you I am the devil himself where innocent young ladies are concerned."
"Rubbish." Harriet's fingers were trembling on the lamp, but she held her ground. "I believe you are deliberately trying to frighten me, sir."
"Damn right." His hand closed around the nape of her neck. The leather of his glove was rough against her skin.
Harriet abruptly read the intent in him, but it was too late to run. Gideon's fierce, leonine eyes flamed behind his hooded dark lashes. He brought his mouth heavily down on hers in a crushing kiss.
Harriet stood transfixed for a timeless instant. She could not move, could not even think. Nothing she had ever experienced in her entire twenty-four and a half years had prepared her for Gideon's embrace.
He groaned heavily, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. His big hand flexed with startling gentleness around her throat, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. And then he was urging her closer to the fierce warmth of his own body. The heavy greatcoat brushed against Harriet's legs.
She could not seem to catch her breath. After the initial shock, a shimmering, glittering excitement roared through her. When Gideon removed the lamp from her limp, unresisting fingers, she scarcely noticed.
Without conscious volition, Harriet raised her hands to his shoulders and sank her fingers into the heavy wool of his coat. She did not know whether she was trying to push him away or pull him closer.
"Bloody hell." Gideon's voice was husky now, betraying some new emotion that Harriet could not identify. "If you had any sense, you would run from me as fast as you possibly could."
"I do not think I could run a single step," Harriet whispered in bemused wonder. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently touched his scarred cheek.
Gideon flinched at the feel of her fingers. Then his eyes narrowed. "Just as well. I am suddenly not in the mood to let you escape me."
He lowered his head again and his mouth moved on hers with astonishing tenderness, easing apart her lips until she realized with shock that he wanted inside. Hesitantly, she obeyed the silent command.
When his tongue surged into her warmth with stunning intimacy, she moaned softly and sagged against him. Never had a man kissed her in this manner.
"You are very delicate," he finally said against her lips. "Very soft. But there is strength in you." Gideon slid his hands around Harriet's waist.
She shivered as he grasped her firmly and lifted her up high against his chest. He held her effortlessly off the stone floor. Her booted feet dangled in midair. She was forced to steady herself by clinging to his broad shoulders.
"Kiss me," he ordered in a deep, dark voice that sent a delicious chill down Harriet's spine.
Without stopping to think, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her mouth shyly across his. Was this what it meant to be ravished? she wondered. Perhaps it was just this heady mix of emotion and desire that had encouraged poor Deirdre Rushton to surrender to Gideon all those years ago. If so, Harriet decided, she could now understand that young woman's recklessness.
"Ah, my sweet Miss Pomeroy," Gideon muttered, "can it be that you truly do not find my features any more offensive than those of your precious fossil skulls?"
"There is nothing in the least offensive about you, my lord, as I am certain you are well aware." Harriet moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. She felt dazed with the emotions that were surging within her. She touched his ravaged face lightly and smiled tremulously. "You are magnificent. Rather like your horse."
Gideon looked startled for an instant. His eyes blazed. And then his expression hardened. He set her slowly on her feet. "Well, then, Miss Harriet Pomeroy?" There was an unmistakable challenge in the words.
"Well, what, my lord?" Harriet managed breathlessly. It was true she had virtually no
"Rubbish." Harriet's fingers were trembling on the lamp, but she held her ground. "I believe you are deliberately trying to frighten me, sir."
"Damn right." His hand closed around the nape of her neck. The leather of his glove was rough against her skin.
Harriet abruptly read the intent in him, but it was too late to run. Gideon's fierce, leonine eyes flamed behind his hooded dark lashes. He brought his mouth heavily down on hers in a crushing kiss.
Harriet stood transfixed for a timeless instant. She could not move, could not even think. Nothing she had ever experienced in her entire twenty-four and a half years had prepared her for Gideon's embrace.
He groaned heavily, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. His big hand flexed with startling gentleness around her throat, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. And then he was urging her closer to the fierce warmth of his own body. The heavy greatcoat brushed against Harriet's legs.
She could not seem to catch her breath. After the initial shock, a shimmering, glittering excitement roared through her. When Gideon removed the lamp from her limp, unresisting fingers, she scarcely noticed.
Without conscious volition, Harriet raised her hands to his shoulders and sank her fingers into the heavy wool of his coat. She did not know whether she was trying to push him away or pull him closer.
"Bloody hell." Gideon's voice was husky now, betraying some new emotion that Harriet could not identify. "If you had any sense, you would run from me as fast as you possibly could."
"I do not think I could run a single step," Harriet whispered in bemused wonder. She looked up at him through her lashes and gently touched his scarred cheek.
Gideon flinched at the feel of her fingers. Then his eyes narrowed. "Just as well. I am suddenly not in the mood to let you escape me."
He lowered his head again and his mouth moved on hers with astonishing tenderness, easing apart her lips until she realized with shock that he wanted inside. Hesitantly, she obeyed the silent command.
When his tongue surged into her warmth with stunning intimacy, she moaned softly and sagged against him. Never had a man kissed her in this manner.
"You are very delicate," he finally said against her lips. "Very soft. But there is strength in you." Gideon slid his hands around Harriet's waist.
She shivered as he grasped her firmly and lifted her up high against his chest. He held her effortlessly off the stone floor. Her booted feet dangled in midair. She was forced to steady herself by clinging to his broad shoulders.
"Kiss me," he ordered in a deep, dark voice that sent a delicious chill down Harriet's spine.
Without stopping to think, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her mouth shyly across his. Was this what it meant to be ravished? she wondered. Perhaps it was just this heady mix of emotion and desire that had encouraged poor Deirdre Rushton to surrender to Gideon all those years ago. If so, Harriet decided, she could now understand that young woman's recklessness.
"Ah, my sweet Miss Pomeroy," Gideon muttered, "can it be that you truly do not find my features any more offensive than those of your precious fossil skulls?"
"There is nothing in the least offensive about you, my lord, as I am certain you are well aware." Harriet moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. She felt dazed with the emotions that were surging within her. She touched his ravaged face lightly and smiled tremulously. "You are magnificent. Rather like your horse."
Gideon looked startled for an instant. His eyes blazed. And then his expression hardened. He set her slowly on her feet. "Well, then, Miss Harriet Pomeroy?" There was an unmistakable challenge in the words.
"Well, what, my lord?" Harriet managed breathlessly. It was true she had virtually no
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