My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(13)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

But her brief experience did not seem to make her any more prepared for the flutters of excitement that sped through her or the sudden racing of her heart.

With an awkward haste she rose to her feet and backed away from his large form.

"It is growing late," she muttered, watching warily as he swiftly gained his feet and moved to stand directly before her.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed."

With deliberate, relentless steps he backed her toward a nearby wall, placing his hands on each side of her head to effectively trap her.

"Not quite yet, I think," he murmured.

She sucked in a sharp breath, then wished she hadn’t. The warm scent of male skin and a faint hint of spice threatened to cloud her mind. A potent, undeniable quiver of longing swept through her.

"What do you want?" she demanded in unsteady tones.

Those distracting fingers lifted to stroke the line of her exposed throat, coming to rest upon the frantic beat of her pulse at the base of her neck.

"You lost the match, my dove. Now you must pay your forfeit."

"I… there was no mention of a forfeit."

His soft chuckle feathered down her spine, sending a rash of delightful sensations through her stiff body.

"What is the point of winning a game if I cannot collect a prize?"

Jocelyn discovered herself battling to maintain her usual calm demeanor. This man possessed the most shocking ability to slip beneath her defenses and stir sensations she had thought buried forever.

With wide eyes she regarded the delicate features of his countenance.

"What sort of prize?"

He slowly smiled. "Ah, you should have determined the precise nature of the wager before ac-cepting our bargain."

She wanted to be furious at his audacity. To be able to wound him with the sharp edge of her tongue. But it was utterly impossible when she was shivering at the temptation that swirled thickly through the air.

"Mr. Valin, I warn you that I will tolerate no foolishness," she forced herself to mutter.

The golden brows lifted as his fingers daringly stroked the modest neckline of her gown.

"What shall it be, Miss Kingly? I have no need for coin, nor do I care for trinkets, although …" His gaze slowly lowered to where the golden amulet lay against her white skin. "I must confess a fascination with the Medallion that you wear about your neck."

Muddled by his proximity, and not at all prepared for his sudden interest in the amulet, she instinctively lifted her hand to clutch the necklace.

Having become accustomed to the strange weight of the amulet, she rarely recalled the encounter with the old gypsy woman. She had been on her way home from visiting the small farm where she placed those women willing to leave the streets, when the gypsy had suddenly stepped before her carriage. Afraid that she had been hurt, Jocelyn hurriedly climbed down to tend to the old woman.

What followed was oddly difficult to recall, although she did clearly remember the gypsy placing the amulet about her neck and telling her that she must never give it to another. She had warned that a gypsy gift was both blessed and cursed, and that she would receive happiness beyond measure if she carefully guarded the necklace from all others.

Jocelyn, of course, was far too sensible to believe in such nonsense. Gypsies were notorious for spreading such tales. Still, she discovered herself unwilling to part with the bauble. It had become almost a part of her now.

"No," she denied with a shake of her head. "It was a gift."

"Ah. From an admirer?"

"Actually it came from a gypsy."

"A gift from a gypsy." His fingers brushed over the amulet and Jocelyn gave a small jerk at the tiny prickles that seemed to come from the warm metal. "Is it blessed?"

Feeling rather foolish, she gave a lift of one shoulder. "If you believe in such things."

He held her gaze for a moment. "Oh, I believe, as should you. Such a blessing can be a powerful force against evil."

There was something in his tone, some dark quality that made Jocelyn feel a shadow fall over her. "Evil?"

His features became stark, the golden eyes darkened with some inner thought.

"It exists, make no mistake about that, my dove," he warned in husky tones. "And it is closer than you ever dreamed possible."

She shuddered at the words. "What on earth do you mean?"

"You must take great care. A shadow moves through London."

Jocelyn briefly thought of poor Molly and the note that had been left in her dead hand. A prick of dread touched deep in her heart.

"Are you attempting to frighten me?"

Easily able to sense her rising anxiety, Mr. Valin allowed his distracting smile to return.

"No, I only offer a warning. Keep the amulet close to you and give it to no one. It might very well save your life."

Jocelyn stilled at his soft words. It seemed impossible that he would echo almost precisely the same warning as the old woman.

"That is what the gypsy told me. Do you know something of this amulet?" she demanded in suspicion.

"Perhaps." His voice lowered and his accent was more noticeable as his fingers stroked over her skin. "But at the moment I am more interested in my prize."

Jocelyn was w.ell aware that he was deliberately attempting to distract her. Unfortunately he was succeeding all too well. She could think of nothing beyond the delicious feel of his touch.

"Mr. Valin…"

"Let me see," he teased softly. "We have ruled out money and trinkets. What do you have left to offer?"

"Nothing."

The golden eyes abruptly flared with undisguised desire. "Do not be so certain. There is always this …"

His words trailed away as he slowly lowered his head. Jocelyn knew beyond a doubt he was going to kiss her. Just as she knew that he was giving her ample opportunity to halt him if she so desired. But even as her hands lifted to press against his chest, her lips were parting in an undeniable invitation.

She wanted him to kiss her, she dizzily acknowledged. Despite all logic. Despite all the warnings clamoring in the back of her mind. Despite all the betrayal she had endured. She wanted to know the feel of his mouth against her own.

Keeping her gaze entangled with his own, he continued downward, at last touching her lips in a tender kiss. Jocelyn’s breath caught at the soft caress. It was enchanting. Astonishing. Magical.

With gentle care he explored her mouth, urging her to soften against the welcome hardness of his large form.

Warm, sweet pleasure flooded through her, making her knees weak and her head spin. How easy it would be to lose herself in such delicious sensations.