At her gesture Michael cursed and caught her hand, falling suddenly atop her.

She stared up at him wondering what bedchamber faux pas she’d committed.

He groaned at her look. “I’ll let ye pet and play all ye want—after. Now I need”—he pushed her chemise to her waist, parted her thighs, and settled between them—“to be inside ye.

Auteur: Elizabeth Hoyt