Page 41 of The Governess’s Carnal Temptation

“Done,” he declared, tearing her out of her thoughts. Lydia turned, aware her cheeks were aflame with her shock at seeing him naked and her impure thoughts. However, anger joined this deluge of feelings when she turned and saw his impish grin.

“Are you mortified because I caught you spying on me?” he asked with such cheer it made her want to plant a facer on him.

“You... you are impossible!” she hissed, spun, and was about to storm away in a rather dramatic fashion when he grabbed her wrist, swirled her and caused her to smash directly into the broad chest she’d just secretly admired. She knew she should push herself away, but somehow, his nearness robbed her of her will, of her ability to draw away.

Being so close to him, their bodies connected so tightly she felt each breath, each movement had pulled her into his spell.

It felt good, familiar. And try as she might, she did not have the will to walk away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lydia’s pert breasts pressed against his torso in a way that invoked delightful images of the past. Nicholas inhaled her exhilarating scent and pictured himself with her in the little stable across the street from her father’s shop. They’d snuck away to be together there, buried in a haystack with only the miller’s horses as their witnesses.

He held on to her and felt her relax against him. Desire surged in him, but before he had a chance to decide what to do, Lydia’s palms pushed against him, and she freed herself from their accidental embrace.

“Lydia,” he called gently, and she stopped, leaving only a small gap between them. But, when she looked at him, her face was a mask of conflict. He saw the redness in her cheeks that spoke of her want, but the uncertainty in her eyes was what drew his attention.

Their embraces and closeness had been second nature to them, their longing for each other and their shared tenderness as natural as the sun’s bright light. Yet now she had to make herself take at him; she knew this from the tension in her jaw, the way she stood so awkwardly as if she wanted to run away.

“Please, I did not mean to...” his words trailed off. He knew he’d acted foolish but hadn’t expected to see her here at this hour. He often went swimming in the nude in the more secluded portion of his lake. Servants never came out there; he knew which days the gardeners came and thus could indulge without detection. The second he’d spotted her, obscured by the curtain of water that dripped down his face, he’d felt transported to the past, and the need to make light of things had overcome him.

In his attempt to make things easier, especially after their encounter the night before, he’d caused her discomfort. Nothing, he understood, was as it had been between them.

“I beg your pardon for my tomfoolery. And also for my conduct last night. I overindulged and found myself in a position most unfortunate for a duke, and you came to my aid. For that, I thank you.”

She wetted her lips, a shimmer remained, and his mouth parted at the thought of tasting her once more.

“I only did what I was hired to do,” she replied, her jade eyes flitting left and right as if looking at him directly was impossible. Why? Was it that she’d seen him in the nude as she’d so often had in the past? Or was she angry at his behavior at the ball?

“I thought you were hired to care for my daughter, not me,” he replied with a smile he hoped was soothing.

Her face grew a deeper shade yet. His smile faded as he wondered if her behavior was rooted in more than just catching him unclothed. Nicholas could only remember what he’d said and done the night before, his memory rather vague.

He cringed as he thought back to the copious amounts of wine consumed. He had no idea how he’d gotten to the pantry or ended up in his bed. He knew Lydia had taken him, but why she’d come upon him in his disastrous state or brought him to his room was foggy, as so many of his drink-induced hazes.

“Will you sit with me?” he asked, motioning to a log near the water’s edge. “I’d like to explain.”

His seriousness drew her attention, and she nodded once before turning. Lydia walked toward the place he’d indicated, and as she went, he watched her hips sway with each step. Her dress moved perfectly with her, hinting at her narrow waist and wide hips. Then, a gust of air caused the thin material to move forward, and her leg’s shapely outline revealed itself. Nicholas groaned, overcome with a desire to run his hand between her legs, to feel the warmth coming from her most private place, like a promise of unimaginable pleasure.

He shook his head and ran one hand through his wet hair, chasing away these thoughts. Then, when they sat, he ensured they were far apart to maintain propriety while also close enough to feel each other’s warmth.

“I’ll admit I do not recall every detail of last night’s adventure. I hope I did not offend.”

She glanced at him, and a strand of red hair grazed the top of her lip.

“You did not. Indeed, you did not make much sense most of the time.”

He cringed though he’d half expected this, though a part of him worried she wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

“I apologize. I know I attempted to go to my chamber, but the hallways appeared to converge like a maze. I...” he waved his hand to illustrate his confusion. “I was in the parlor one moment and the pantry the next. I do not know how I got there nor what I wanted.”

“Potatoes,” Lydia said, a hint of a smile on her lush red lips.

He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

The sun cast its beams upon her as if to enhance her angelic appearance further. An image flashed before him. A candle illuminated her face. Concern, genuine affection in her eyes. Were these true memories? Or images conjured up by his fractured memory mixed with wishful thinking?

“When I found you, you clutched a potato as if your life depended on it. You informed me it was a gemstone. You thought yourself quite fortunate.”