Xavier Westbourne would be a gentle lover, she thought, until passion overcame him. Then perhaps the beast dwelling in all men would come alive, taking over and driving him to roughness, releasing him from control, throwing them both towards and over the edge of passionate madness. She licked her parched lips, and was rewarded with a sound emanating from deep in his throat—the sound of the beast stirring. With another shiver, a delicious spasm of expectation suffused her entire body.
“Perhaps I shall, Mr. Westbourne.”
She pitched her voice only high enough to reach him, seeing him exhale, as though he had been holding his breath.