Her mouth was soft and hot, like sunshine, like the white blaze of a heartwood fire. She gasped as he touched her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. Slowly her hands came to his shoulders, and then he felt her fingers at the back of his head, sliding into his hair to keep him from pulling away. There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening. Nothing could have made him stop.

A tremor shook his fingers as he bracketed the exquisite line of her jaw in the open framework of his hand, gently angling her face upward. The flavor of her mouth, sweet and elusive, fueled a hunger that threatened to rage out of control…he searched the damp silk beyond her lips, deeper, harder, until she began to breathe in long sighs, her body molding against his.

He let her feel how much stronger he was, how much heavier, one muscular arm clamped along her back, his feet spread to hold her between the powerful length of his thighs. Her upper half was bound in a laced and padded corset. He was almost overcome by a savage desire to tear away the stays and quilting and find the tender flesh beneath.

Instead he sank his fingers into her pinned-up hair and tugged it backward until the weight of her head was cradled in his hand, and her pale throat was exposed. He searched for the pulse he had seen earlier, his lips dragging softly along the secret pathway of nerves beneath her skin. When he reached a senstive spot, he felt the vibration of her suppressed moan against his mouth.

This was what it would be like to make love to her, he thought dazedly…the sweet shivering of her flesh as he entered her, the delicate chaos of her breath, the helpless sounds that rustled in her throat. Her skin, warm and female, scented like tea and talcum and a trace of salt. He found her mouth again, opened it, delving into wet silk, heat, and an intimate flavor that drove him mad.

She should have struggled, but there was only yielding and more softness, driving him past all limits. He began to ravish her mouth with deep, twisting kisses, bringing her body rhythmically against his. He felt her legs part beneath her gown, his thigh fitting neatly between them. She squirmed with innocent desire, her face blooming with the color of late summer poppies. Had she understood exactly what he wanted from her, she would have done more than blush. She would have fainted on the spot.

Lifting his mouth from hers, Matthew pressed his jaw against the side of her head. “I think,” he said raggedly, “this puts to rest any question of whether I find you desirable or not.”

Daisy gathered the strength to twist around in his grasp until she faced away from him, staring blindly at the rows of leather-bound books before her. Her small hands braced on the mahogany shelf as she fought to control the turbulent pace of her breathing.

Matthew stood behind her, reaching around to cover her hands with his. The narrow framework of her shoulders went rigid against his chest as he searched for the tender ridge of her ear.

“Don’t,” she said thickly, straining away from him.

Matthew couldn’t stop. Following the movement of her head, he nuzzled the downy curve of her neck. He released one of her hands to settle his palm on the exposed skin over her bodice, just above the rise of her br**sts. Daisy’s free hand came up to press his fingers harder against her chest, as if their combined efforts were necessary to restrain the pounding of her reckless heart.

Matthew tightened all his muscles against the overpowering urge to snatch her up and carry her to the nearby settee. He wanted to make love to her, to bury himself inside her until bitter memories had dissolved in her sweetness. But that chance had been stolen from him long before they had ever met.

He had nothing to offer her. His life, his name, his identity…it was all an illusion. He was not the man she thought he was. And it was only a matter of time until she found out.

To his chagrin he realized he had unconsciously clenched a hand in her skirts as if in preparation to hike them up. The satin spilled in gleaming drifts between his fingers. He thought of her body wrapped up in all these garments and lacing, and the ungodly pleasure it would be to strip her naked. To map her body with his mouth and fingertips, learning every curve and hollow, every hidden place.

Watching his hand as if it belonged to someone else, Matthew uncurled his fingers one by one until the yellow satin dropped. He turned her to face him, staring into the rich brown depths of her eyes.

“Matthew,” she said thickly.

It was the first time she had ever used his first name. He struggled to conceal the strength of his response. “Yes?”

“The way you phrased yourself earlier…you didn’t say you won’t marry me under any circumstances…you said you can’t. Why?”

“Since it’s not going to happen,” he said, “the reasons are irrelevant.”

Daisy frowned, her lips pursing in a way that made him long to kiss them.

He moved aside to let her go.

Obeying the silent signal, Daisy began to brush by him.

But as Daisy’s arm bumped against his, Matthew caught her wrist in his fingers, and suddenly she was in his arms again. He couldn’t stop himself from taking her mouth with his, kissing her as if she belonged to him, as if he were inside her.

This is what I feel for you, he told her with fierce, consuming kisses. This is what I want. He felt the new tension in her limbs, tasted her arousal, and realized he could bring her to cl**ax here and now, if he reached beneath her dress and—

No, he told himself savagely. This had already gone too far. Realizing how close he was to losing all self-control, Matthew ripped his mouth from hers with a quiet groan and thrust Daisy away from him.