"I don't think it is proper for you to look at me like that," Caroline whispered. Her face was just inches from his, yet she couldn't draw back any farther. Nor did she want to, she admitted to herself, even as she clutched the lapels of his jacket closer to her chest.

"I've never been known to be proper," Bradford answered. His voice sounded coated with honey. "And that is one of your requirements for a suitor, isn't it?"

"You're not nice either," Caroline commented, trying to break the spell he was weaving.

"And why have you come to that conclusion?" Bradford asked, raising one eyebrow with curiosity.

"Because you believed that I had done something improper," Caroline answered. "Don't look so innocent, Bradford!" she continued when he gave her one of his silly grins.

"Only for a moment, and I did not think you had behaved improperly," he explained. He brushed her hair back over her shoulder in a gentle gesture. "I believed someone else had taken advantage," he went on.

Caroline shook her head. "Do you always think the worst of people?" she asked, frowning. "That isn't very nice either."

Bradford gave a mock sigh. "Is there anything that you find appealing about me?" he asked. His fingertip stroked a long line down the side of her face. Caroline felt goosebumps cover her arms and tried to push his hand away.

She wanted, more than anything else in the world, for Bradford to kiss her. "I like the way that you kiss me," she whispered. "Is that terribly improper for me to admit?" she asked.

Bradford didn't answer. Instead, he cupped the sides of her face and drew her toward him. His mouth touched hers in a feathery caress that brought a sigh of contentment.

Caroline parted her lips and pressed herself against Bradford, loving the feel of his hard body, reveling in the differences between them. It was all the encouragement he needed. One hand moved to the back of her neck and the other fell to grip her waist. He opened his mouth over hers and the kiss immediately changed in intensity. Bradford was no longer tender but demanding as he took what she had so willingly, so innocently offered.

Caroline's heart began to pound and she found she couldn't quite catch her breath. He was draining her of all reason, all sense of caution. Her tongue stroked his while her fingers explored the soft texture of his hair. She felt overwhelmed by his touch, his scent. She didn't want the kiss to end, moaning a soft protest when Bradford tore his mouth from hers.

He took a deep breath, hoping the action would cool his growing need. It was all futile thinking on his part. She felt so soft, so incredibly good against him. He decided to act the role of a true gentleman, place her on the seat across from him, and guard her innocence as any decent nobleman would, but then he looked into her eyes. Her gaze held a slumberous look, as if she had just been awakened to the physical pleasures shared between a man and a woman.

Bradford was compelled to kiss her again, telling himself that it would be the very last that they shared this night, and knew when his tongue met hers, when the hot excitement exploded into raw passion between them, that he couldn't stop. His fingers brushed a trail down the smooth column of her slender neck, hesitated for the briefest of seconds, and then continued until her eached the soft fullness of her breasts. And all thoughts of playing the gentleman vanished.

Caroline tried to protest this new intimacy as she fought the sensations. Bradford's mouth had moved to the side of her neck, and his breath was warm and sensual against her ear as his tongue caused such blissful havoc.

His mouth found her breasts and Caroline was powerless to stop him. She felt like she was floating in his arms, so safe and secure, and let the flood of emotions claim her attention. She was so innocent and each touch, each kiss, opened a new world of feeling. She instinctively trusted Bradford to know when to stop. He was leading the way into this erotic world and she believed that he would know when it was time to call a halt. He was the experienced one.

"Caroline, you feel so good," Bradford whispered, his voice harsh now with need. "So soft. You were made for loving." His tongue was circling the nipple of one breast while his hand gently caressed the other. Caroline twisted in his arms, trying to avoid the sweet torture, yet clung to his shoulders and silently begged for more. Bradford held her still and finally took the straining nipple into his mouth. When he began to suck, and his tongue began to stroke the sensitive skin, Caroline thought that she would go out of her mind.

A burning knot of frustration was growing inside Caroline. She began to ache with a need she couldn't define, couldn't understand. It frightened her, this sensual torture he caused, and she began to truly struggle. "Bradford, no! We must stop now."

He silenced her protest with a long, hot kiss and shifted her so that she was aware of his hardness against her. Caroline became more alarmed, realizing that Bradford didn't have any immediate plan to stop his tender assault. "I want you, Caroline, as I have never wanted another woman."

Her skirt was being lifted and his hand caressed her thigh. Caroline felt like she was being branded, so hot was his touch, his demand. She jerked away from him. Her breathing was as ragged as his, though anger had replaced passion.

"You were supposed to stop before it went this far," she whispered.

It took a moment for Caroline's statement to filter through Bradford's haze of passion. By the time he felt in some semblance of control again, Caroline had moved to the seat across from him, once again clutching his jacket over her torn gown.

Caroline was suddenly terribly embarrassed. She trembled and the knot inside her wouldn't go away. She realized that she really wanted Bradford and that absolutely horrified her. She belonged in a tavern, she told herself. She was cold now, cold from the shame penetrating, and as humiliating as it was, she began to cry. Lord, she hadn't cried in years, and damnation, it was all his fault. He was the experienced one and should have known what he was about!

Bradford saw the tears stream down Caroline's cheeks but was in no mood to offer comfort. He was in acute pain and it was all her fault. Didn't she realize her appeal? Didn't she know the temptation she flaunted? What kind of people raised her? he asked himself with building fury. Hadn't anyone taken the time to educate her in the boundaries of flirting? She had reacted with such ardor, and Bradford thought that her need for completion matched his. He sincerely hoped that it did, he thought with anger. God, he hoped she was hurting every bit as much as he was.

Caroline glared at Bradford while she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the edge of his jacket, hoping he would dare to criticize her for it so that she could lash out at him. She smoothed her gown and moved and then let out a moan. Her backside was tender and most probably black and blue from the fall on the steps, and a part of her thought it peculiar that it hadn't hurt much at all when Bradford was kissing her.

The carriage hit a pothole on one of the side streets that led to her father's townhouse and Caroline gritted her teeth when her bottom was smacked anew. She didn't think she could stand up if her life depended upon it.

"What the hell are you groaning about?" Bradford all but yelled the question. He stretched his legs out as far as the carriage would allow, taking the torn hem of Caroline's gown with him.

"I am in pain," Caroline snapped out.

"Good," Bradford replied. His voice was curt but he was no longer yelling. Caroline was sorry for it, as she was aching now for a fight. "I am in pain too."

"And why are you in pain?" Caroline asked.

"Are you serious? I am in pain because you have made me want you. Are you really such an innocent?" His voice had increased in volume and he leaned forward, his hands on his knees, glaring at her.