Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 11

Cedric's hands in her hair loosened and cupped her neck, holding her still so his mouth could wander back to hers.

"Open your mouth," he commanded before slanting his mouth over hers again. She refused to open, and he slid his fingers around her left breast and pinched her nipple sharply. The sensation shot a fierce desire straight to her womb. She gasped. Cedric swallowed the sound of her shock with a deep growl of satisfaction as his tongue invaded her newly opened lips.

Anne jerked in his grasp, but he refused to surrender his control of her. He kneaded her breast, cupping it, shaping it with his strong hand. Anne's knees buckled rebelliously.

Cedric released her as abruptly as he'd captured her. "I will tame you yet."

Anne pulled away, putting several feet of distance between them. Once they were married she would have to be careful; she couldn't allow him to paw at her and control her with her own passions. She'd vowed to come to his bed willingly, but now she feared she'd been too brave to assume she could manage it without losing herself. When Cedric kissed her it seemed to undo her from the inside out. When his lips meshed with hers she felt time rewind itself to that first night she'd seen him.

She'd been so young and foolish then, ready for love and marriage and a sweet life. Anne shook her head to clear it of sad memories and noticed Cedric flash her a mocking smile full of satisfaction.

"No doubt when we marry you think to take up the habit of hiding from me, Anne, but know this-I may be blind, but my other senses leave me quite capable of finding you. Each move you make I'll hear the rustle of your skirt, or catch the lingering scent of your perfume. I will make you mine all the more fiercely. Now go and change for dinner before I decide to scandalize you and follow you to your chambers."

Anne needed no second warning. She was out of the parlor and rushing up to her room in seconds, but she couldn't escape the echo of his laughter. They'd fought a battle of wills, and she only realized now that she had lost. Cedric was far more cunning than she'd assumed. He was not outwardly a scholarly type or a businessman, but he had a wealth of carnal knowledge that had put her at a disadvantage today.

I must always be on guard, she told herself.

As Anne dressed in the sanctuary of her bedchamber, she selected a gown of russet brown that had golden embroidery on the puffed sleeves and hem. It was a gown more suited to autumn with its hues more pumpkin than like flowers, which fashion dictated during the spring. She knew she should have stayed in her mourning blacks, but the thought of a lovely evening wasted in that awful black crepe was an unpleasant one.

Her father wouldn't have wanted her to wear black for long; he'd never approved of the conventions of mourning.

Grief attends to itself in its own time, in its own way, her father had often said. It neither expects nor desires formality. The dinner at the St. Laurent townhouse was private in nature, and Anne felt confident that Emily would not demand she wear black.

After Anne dressed she called in her lady's maid, Imogene, who looked briefly startled at Anne's choice of gown, but knew better than to comment on it.