“Good. I’m not either. Shall we?” He tipped his head back toward the bed.

Heat spread through her body as if she’d just lowered herself into a steaming bath. Beads of sweat formed between her breasts. She turned away to drop to her knees and rummage through her trunk while she worked to keep her breathing even. “But we just got here. It’s the middle of the day.” As excuses went, it was particularly lame, but at the moment, it was all she had.

His chuckle followed. He stepped forward, leaned down, and traced a finger along her collarbone. His touch alone made her shiver. He crouched beside her, and his voice was a hot breath in her ear. “I seem to remember on our honeymoon we made love in the middle of the day. Several times.”

Veronica froze and briefly closed her eyes. “I know my second rule,” she choked out.

“What?” His voice held a note of apprehension.

“Don’t call it lovemaking,” she said through clenched teeth.

He pulled the chemise she was holding from her hands and let it drop back into the trunk. Then he stood and pulled her up with him into his arms. Veronica shuddered again. His mouth dropped to her neck and traced a heated path along the vein that led to her shoulder. Dear God. His tongue lit her up like a line of Christmas candles. When his mouth reached her ear again, he whispered, “I don’t care what we call it as long as you come to bed with me. Right. Now.”

Trembling with a mixture of trepidation and what she didn’t want to admit but knew was desire, Veronica let him lead her to the bed. The large piece of furniture took up the entire center of the room and was covered with a jade-green satin coverlet and stark white sheets.

Sebastian stopped next to the bed and stroked her cheek. “You’re beautiful, Veronica.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “And you’re handsome. Too bad you’re a—”

His mouth swooped down to cover hers, silencing her words. Her head tipped back, and her arms instinctively went around his neck. She anchored herself to him. It felt too good to pull away. And he was right. Damn him. She wanted it. She wanted his kiss. She wanted his touch. It had been too long. She’d been nervous minutes ago, but now all she wanted was to be tangled naked in the bedsheets with him, feeling his muscles ripple beneath her fingertips as he pumped into her.

His mouth moved along her cheek to her ear. He bit the lobe slightly before tracing the tip of his tongue down her neck, across her throat. Then he lowered his head to her décolletage, tantalizing her by rubbing the backs of his fingers along her nipples, kissing the exposed tops of her breasts before moving up, sucking at her neck, dipping into the little crevice at her collarbone, lapping at the spot behind her ear that he knew drove her wild. “I can make you burn,” he whispered. “I remember how.”