He captured her legs between his, rolling her over until her back was pressed against the edge of the seat. She pushed him back, throwing herself over him and pinning him to the floor.

“Stay put, will you?” She frowned. Honestly, was any other husband in the world so hard to seduce? “It’s my turn, you are obliged to do this my way.”

She could just make out the look of confusion in his eyes through the dim light of the carriage lantern. “Charlotte, what are you talking about? I’m obliged to wrestle with you on the floor of my carriage? I don’t remember that as part of our wedding vows. Or is this some new tonnish trend that you are determined to try? If so, I must object. This position is not only undignified, but it has the added detraction of causing a crick in my neck, not to mention the fact that I’m lying on a brick.”

“Oh,” she said, releasing her grip on his wrists to run her fingers into his hair. She sat up, straddling him. “I didn’t know about the brick. Do you wish for me to get off you and postpone your seduction until a later time when there are no bricks and cricks to interfere with my plans?”

“That would be most magnanimous of you,” he said, his hand running up her calf. Her breath caught in her throat at his touch. She placed a hand on his chest. Even through his shirt and waistcoat, she could feel his heart beating madly, almost as madly as hers was.

“Charlotte,” he groaned, both hands on her legs now, above her stockings, his fingers teasing a trail up her thighs. “Oh, to hell with the brick.”

One hand tangled in her hair as he pulled her down onto him, his mouth waiting for hers, asking, pleading, then demanding she give herself to him. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she remembered that she had wanted to be the one in charge, that it was rightfully her turn to seduce him, but the hot magic of his mouth and the fires of desire his fingers were building as they stroked up her back and around to her breasts drove every other thought from her mind.

“God’s breath, how I want you,” he groaned into her ear as he kissed a lovely shivery spot on the side of her neck. “But we have to stop. Charlotte, you must stop. We can’t do this here.”

She sat up on him again, pulled away from kissing the area she’d exposed by tugging off his cravat. “Hmmm.”

His chest heaved beneath her, his breath ragged and fast. That pleased her. “Hmmm what?”

“Hmmm, I agree that we can’t do what I’d like to do here, but do you know, there was mention made in Vyvyan La Blue’s Guide to Connubial Calisthenics of an act that is recommended for those who find themselves in a closed environment such as this carriage. Would you care for me to demonstrate?”