Scarlett let out a soft gasp. "But your mother..."
Damien smiled a familiar, mischievous smile. "I happen not to care about my mother right now."
Damien's hands traveled underneath her dress and to the skin of her back—touching, demanding, insisting that she match her passion to his.
She wanted this, she told herself. She needed this. If she was going to do this, then she had to surrender to the moment, to stop thinking and enjoy this hard-bodied, hard-eyed man who had the ability to make her skin sing with arousal, who'd possessed this ability since the first time she'd met him.
For the first time in her adult life, Scarlett switched off her brain and surrendered herself to the physical warmth of his touch.
His hand, warm against her, made her feel intensely female. Sensation bombard
