sought, something like that."

Now, that was uncalled for, and outright rude. "What a splendid idea," she responded. "Only why play with metaphors? The direct approach is always best. How does this sound? Gentleman required for a temporary affair of convenience. Unexceptionable references from previous lovers required. Must be

willing to be named in criminal correspondence. Should be presentable, experienced, and have a strong back."

His glare said he did not find that humorous in the least.

"I do not understand why you are reacting like this, Julian. You agreed an affair was a simple solution.

You sounded very encouraging yesterday."

He studied the list further, looking very critical indeed. Angry, actually.

"I notice that my name is not here."

"You are so honorable, of course, and"

"You worry for my reputation? That is generous of you." He strolled toward her. His dark expression

made her heart rise. "However, since I am the only man who has already shown a willingness to risk the cost, that seems an odd reason to omit me."

He was right in front of her now.

"In fact, I have proven myself willing to risk the cost even without the prize of pleasure. If you decide to bestow your favors I think I should at least be in the running, out of courtesy if nothing else."

He looked down. She could not speak.

"I am also the only man who would completely understand what you asked and why, Pen. The only one who would know why you needed this affair of convenience, and what it did and did not mean."

It was not Julian the old friend gazing at her with those stormy eyes, nor was it Mr. Hampton the faithful

advisor. A different man stood just inches from her, darkly displeased, projecting an aura that charged

the air and made her heart pound.

His hand came to rest on her face. She stared up in silent astonishment. That touch felt very good, however. Masculine and warm and confident.

"Perhaps you did not include me because you did not think I could acquit myself well enough. After all, you have never subjected me to due testing."

His hand commanded her head steady. A sensual anticipation scurried through her.

His head lowered and his mouth pressed hers.

It was not a long kiss, but it amazed her. She responded as if a sexual breeze had entered her. The kiss was firm enough and long enough to make explicit it was not intended as one of friendship, or even one of request.

He stopped and straightened. His gaze affected her even more than the kiss had. She could not even

blink.

Then he was gone, walking away, heading calmly for the door to the terrace like a man who had thought of something else he should be attending.

Chapter Eight.

If that kiss was any indication, Julian Hampton could acquit himself very well indeed.

That was the first lucid thought that entered Pen's head as she gained some control on her flustered condition.

She sat on the sofa, trying to find some accommodation to this sudden turn in their friendship.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do now.

She stood up and looked out the window. He was not on the terrace.

He might think she was insulted by that kiss, or that she suspected his intentions now. That kiss could change everything about how one saw his help and protection and motivations, if one permitted it to.

She did not want him wondering if that were the case with her.

Her cloak was nowhere in sight, so she grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stepped out on the terrace to see where he was.

Julian stood not far from the bottom step of the stone stairs, on a strip of beach released by the outgoing tide. He cut a handsome image standing there, framed by the sea, his dark frock coat and hair contrasting with its pale tones. His body bore a casual stance, as if he meditated on the elements and allowed nature's forces to flow through him.

He did not look like someone who would welcome an intrusion on his solitude.

She headed down the stairs anyway. She went and stood beside him.

He did not look at her. "You should have stayed in the cottage, Pen."

"I am not going to take ill. I am quite recovered from my ordeal."

"That is not what I meant." He glanced over, then turned his attention back to the sea. "I do not intend to

apologize, if that is what you expect."

"There is no need to. It was an impulse. We all on occasion act without thinking."

"Yes, it was an impulse. Or it may have been the most deliberate thing I have ever done in my life. I haven't decided yet."

She did not know what to say to that, but she felt compelled to say something. "I am surprised, that is all. Flattered, too, certainly, but mostly surprised. I had no idea that you ever thought of me that way." "Why wouldn't I think of you that way? You are an attractive woman, and men have a habit of thinking of women that way in any case."

That certainly gave the episode a commonplace color. It also explained the true reason for that kiss. A very ordinary one that had nothing to do with impulse, or even very much with whether he thought of her that way.

His pride had been wounded, that was all. His masculinity had been insulted that the Countess of Glasbury had not included him on that silly list of potential lovers, no matter which lover she eventually chose.

Well, what did she expect? He may be an old friend, but he was still a man.

"Julian, I meant it when I said you were not on my list because you are honorable, and because of the cost to you of such a scandal. I almost wrote your name, truly. My pen was poised to do so, but consideration of all that stopped me. Of course the notion entered my mind, but under the circumstances it just seemed to be best if I removed you from consideration."

He stepped in front of her, between her and the sea, listening with amusement. He reached out and gently laid two fingers on her lips, stopping her attempts to assuage his pride.

"It is very sweet of you to explain that, Pen. Also a mistake. It would have been better not to tell me."

She took his hand in hers. "I believe it was right to tell you, Julian. I do not want you insulted or hurt because of that stupid list."

His gaze fell to their hands. His hold tightened. Tiny lightning bolts brightened his eyes. "Touching me right now was another mistake, Pen. A very big one."

She moved in a blur as he pulled her into his arms and captured her in an encompassing embrace.

He kissed her again, but it was different this time. Definitely impulsive. Dangerously furious. She might have controlled her reactions to the last kiss if she had truly wanted to. This kiss gave her little choice but submission.

The blanket wrapped her, but his strength encircled her, too. His tight embrace held her so closely that she could feel all of him. His chest pressed her breasts, and his firm grasp held her to the kisses ravishing her mouth and neck.

He paused and gazed down at her. There was no mistaking the way he looked at her. No mistaking the sensual fury in his eyes. Nor could she ignore the way her lips swelled and throbbed from his kisses, and how that pulse beat its way through her cheek and down her neck to her breasts.

That exciting pulse turned her initial surprise and alarm into a seductive entrancement.

Her whole body reacted to his bold gaze. The throbbing became undeniably sexual and beat in her blood and head, and physically in her breasts and belly.

He knew. New lights entered his eyes that showed he did. No matter what shock her face might show, he could tell that her body recklessly dared him to kiss her again.

He did, ruthlessly. He aroused her as if he knew just how to do it. Each kiss was calculated to render her helpless to the escalating pleasure.

Stunning pleasure. A hot wind of it. Sly currents of hunger flowed ruthlessly to swelling pools of desire. Her breasts grew heavy and tender and sensitive. Moisture began slicking her thighs.

She barely noticed their steps back to the dry sand stripping the base of the terrace wall. He lowered her as if lying on the sand were her only choice of where to go.

He peeled apart the blanket to spread on the sand and shrugged off his coat. She was able to embrace his warmth during the next kiss. It felt so good to hold him, so blissful that it drenched her spirit and left her even more defenseless.

The kisses calmed. They turned sweet and slow and too tender to bear. Her body both relished the slow pleasure and ached for more.

He rose up on one arm and looked down at her, giving substance to the image of him that had flashed in her head for the last day. The wind blew his dark hair and the sleeves of his shirt. His gaze followed the gentle caress of his hand over her face and neck.

"Do you want to go back to the cottage?"

She could not resist touching him, too. She caressed the face looking down at her and the lips that had been kissing her. The sensation of his skin under her fingertips entranced her.

Her intense reactions confused her. Frightened her. The part of her that shuddered with anticipation knew exactly what it wanted, but her conscience chanted that she should leave at once and not risk complicating and ruining this friendship.

"I do not know what I want."

"I do." His caress drifted lower, to her neck. Her skin began sparkling with warmth. "You will stay for a while, Pen, and we will enjoy the sea and each other."

The next kiss told her what would happen and what would not. It promised as much as demanded, and she was filled with the trust she had always had in this friend. She did not know what she wanted, and he would not take advantage of that.

No more confusion, just total absorption in the sensations and changes. When he asked for more she could not refuse. The intimate strokes in her mouth sent stunning shudders all through her, enlivening her body, making her impatient for more closeness.

He caressed down her side and she felt his hand clearly. No stays protected her body or interfered. His hand moved again, over the fullness of her breast, as confidently as if he had touched her like this a hundred times before.

Only he had not, and the unexpected power of the pleasure sent her reeling. She wanted that touch to continue, desperately. Her body instinctively moved to encourage him. Even her breaths sounded a rhythm that begged for more.

What that hand did to her. His fingers found her nipple through the cloth and stroked it, sending streams of luscious excitement shuddering down her essence. She closed her eyes to try to control the madness that threatened to obliterate her composure. She kissed him back, urgently, to relieve the frightening desire building in her.

His hand moved to her shoulder. He gently rolled her on her side, away from him. Her disappointment lasted only a moment before she felt her dress loosening.

He eased her back on the blanket, then lowered her dress and chemise. He slid the fabric down, unveiling her body. She snuck a glance at what he saw. Her breasts rose naked above the rumpled garments. Her body was completely bare from the waist up.

He propped himself up on one elbow, out of her embrace, leaving her to lie there vulnerable to his gaze.

The sensation of lying naked and exposed was incredibly erotic. His hand came to rest on her stomach, dark against her white skin. "You are very lovely, Pen. Very fair and soft."

From beneath her lowered lids, she could see that hand on her. Her breasts grew sensitive because of its proximity. Even the breeze seemed to arouse them.

"Too soft," she muttered. "This dress needs stays and you forgot to bring me some."

He caressed where the stays should be. "I forgot nothing. There is no one here but me. No need to truss yourself unnaturally. You looked beautiful in the dress. You look more beautiful with it half off."