Not until she felt his hand cupping her breast, then sliding inside her silk shirt, did she jerk free of the whirlpool of mindless pleasure where she was willingly drowning. And then it was surprise and guilt, rather than revulsion, that made her rear back.
Bracing her forearms against his chest, she tried to catch her breath, and then she raised her head, dragging her embarrassed gaze to his smoldering grey eyes.
"I've shocked you," he murmured huskily.
It was true, but Alexandra saw the amusement in his sultry eyes and stubbornly refused to admit it Accepting his unspoken challenge, she put her lips against his again, and this time when his tongue slid between them, her body automatically fitted itself closer to his. A muffled sound that was part groan, part laugh, escaped him, but when she would have pulled away, his arms tightened around her and his mouth became more insistent Alexandra surrendered to the heated demands of his mouth and hands, kissing him back with all the awakening desire flooding through her.
When he finally let her go, his breathing was almost as labored as hers. Lifting his hand, he rubbed his knuckles along her heated cheek. "So soft," he whispered. "So incredibly innocent."
Alexandra interpreted "innocent" to mean "naive" and jerked away from him in angry hurt. "I must be a dreadful bore for a man of your obvious sophistication."
His hands clamped her arms and hauled her right back. "That was a compliment," he retorted, his face only inches from hers, and the taut sound of his voice made her wonder a little wildly what he must be like when truly angry. Giving her a little shake, he clarified shortly. " 'Unspoiled—unsullied—without artifice or pretense,' do you understand?"
"Perfectly!" Alexandra flung back, reacting to his tone and not his words, and then the absurdity of it all made her burst out laughing. "Are we having a quarrel over how nice I am?"
Her irresistible smile doused his momentary exasperation and brought a reluctant answering smile to his eyes. "So it would seem," he softly replied and, with inner resignation, Jordan finally faced the fact that he could no longer pretend the insistent, throbbing desire he felt for her didn't exist. She laid her cheek back on his chest and he stared fixedly over her head, mentally reminding himself of all the logical reasons why he would be making a mistake if he took her to bed tonight:
She was young and naive and idealistic.
He was none of those things.
She wanted to give him her love.
All he wanted was her body.
She wanted to be loved by him.
The only "love" he believed in was
the kind made in bed.
She was infatuated with him.
He did not want to be burdened with an
infatuated child.
On the other hand,
She wanted him.
He wanted her.
His decision made, he tipped his chin down. "Alexandra?" When she lifted her face inquiringly, he said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, "Do you know how babies are made?"
The unexpected question jolted a stunned, embarrassed laugh from her at the same time hot color washed over her cheeks. "Do—do we have to discuss this?"
His lips quirked with self-mockery. "Yesterday, I would have said there was no need. An hour ago, I would have said it. Now, I'm afraid we do."
"What made you change your mind?"
It was Jordan's turn to Took blank. "Our kissing," he said bluntly, after a pause.
"What has that to do with babies?"
Jordan leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed with exasperated amusement. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."
After studying his odd expression, Alexandra sat up and self-consciously straightened her clothing. Mary Ellen had tried to convince her two years ago that babies were made the same way puppies were made, but Alexandra's intelligent mind had rejected that piece of appalling nonsense. Human beings would never behave in such a way, she knew, and only someone as corkbrained as Mary Ellen would believe such an absurd thing. But then Mary Ellen also believed that if you turned your back on a rainbow, you'd have bad luck, and that fairies cavorted under mushrooms in the forest. Which was why Mary Ellen walked backward whenever it rained and refused to eat mushrooms.
Alexandra stole a sidewise look at her husband and decided to ask him a simple question about something which young girls were kept in ignorance of, but which she felt she was entitled to know. Her grandfather had oft said that ignorance was a disease for which questions were the only cure, and so, with bright, candid interest, she inquired, "How are babies made?" Visibly startled, Jordan turned and opened his mouth, as if he intended to speak, but for some reason no words came out. At first Alexandra was puzzled by his involuntary silence, but then understanding dawned. She shook her head and sighed with sympathy for their mutual plight. "You don't know either, do you?"
Jordan's sharp crack of laughter exploded like a pistol shot, and he threw his head back, laughing with uncontrollable mirth until he finally managed to drag enough air into his lungs to choke, "Yes, Alexandra… I do know." He had laughed more in the week he'd known her, Jordan realized, than he had laughed in an entire year.
A little wounded by his reaction, Alexandra said, "Well then, how is it done?"
The remnants of mirth gleaming in his eyes slowly dissolved as he laid his hand against her cheek, running it back to tenderly smooth her hair. Finally he said in an odd, husky voice, "I'll show you how it's done tonight."
He had scarcely spoken the words when their coach turned off the road and pulled into the yard of an inn with lamps burning brightly in all the windows.
Chapter Ten
Candles flickered cheerfully on the mantel and on the low table between them, left there by the maid who'd come to clear away their dinner plates. Curled up in a pretty chintz-covered settee, her stockinged feet tucked beneath her and Jordan's arm around her shoulders, holding her nestled into the curve of his arm, Alexandra had never felt so luxuriously, sublimely cozy.
Lifting her wineglass to her lips, she sipped the wine Jordan had seemed determined to press upon her for the last hour, wondering when he planned to retire to his own room. She wasn't entirely certain he even had a room of his own tonight. While she'd bathed in her room before dinner, he'd bathed in the small room adjoining hers, but there was only a narrow cot in there, obviously intended for use by a valet or lady's maid. Alexandra had no maid and was perfectly able to fend for herself; Jordan had said he preferred to leave his valet behind when he was only going on a short trip. Since neither of them had servants, she wondered if the inn was full and he therefore was forced to sleep in the adjoining room.