Page 66 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

The faint beginnings of a smile touched her lips, even as she watched him with a kind of wariness that made his chest hurt.

“Yes,” she said. “So am I.”

He wished—desperately—that he could read whatever thoughts were passing through her mind. But she merely watched him, probably hoping the same.

He exhaled sharply and went to sit to one side. Jessamine accepted the blindfold, and easily identified Lady Temperance, who submitted to being caught.

It was only when they were back in the carriage once more in the early hours of the morning, after having spent the majority of the night there, that she spoke once again.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It was my pleasure.”

She reached over and took his hand. He glanced down at the contact, the temptation to kiss her fingers almost overwhelming. “Really,” she said. “Thank you. I cannot tell you how very grateful I am. And for staying. And…” Her voice trailed away.

“You’re welcome,” he said, squeezing her fingers and relinquishing them before he could be tempted to go any further. “Anything you need, Jessamine. That is what I vowed I would provide for you.”

“Anything?”

The way she said it, almost throaty, a little breathy, put him in mind of other things he ought not to be promising her. But by God, the night was old, and he was tired, and his willpower had worn down, and if that was what she wanted from him⁠—

Well, he would not be so much of a bastard as to deny her.

“Anything,” he said.

She sucked in a breath, and he thought she would say nothing.

But then she spoke. “Kiss me.”

Jessamine had not intended to ask Andrew to kiss her. Not precisely. In the Minerva Club, she had half thought he might when he’d found her, but being watched had ensured he stepped back. Or perhaps he would have done, anyway.

All she knew was how much she craved just being held. He had been so good to her all night, and she wanted more of his goodness.

She craved it—she needed it.

He looked at her as though her request had wrecked him from the inside out. And then, as the carriage lurched over uneven cobbles, he moved, crossing to her side of the carriage and taking her in his arms, bringing her against his body and fastening his mouth against hers with such fervor, she realized he must have been waiting for this.

Waiting for her.

His lips claimed hers, and she offered herself to him. No more defiance, no more arguments, nothing but the primal desire that flared between them.

The carriage came to a stop before the house, and Andrew picked her up as though she weighed nothing, carrying her down from the carriage and up the steps to the front door. The moment they were inside, he dismissed the servants and turned her so her back was against the door and kissed her again.

Jessamine wasn’t certain they would reach their bedchambers before this passion claimed them, and she didn’t think she minded. He could have her on the stairs, so long as he had her. So long as he eased the ache in her body.

She wanted another of those wonderful, cresting peaks he had brought on. And more to the point, she wanted to return the pleasure. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she had been aware of the fact that the last time, she had done nothing for him.

This time would be different.

“I want you to touch me,” she said against his mouth.

He groaned as though he was in pain. “Where?”

“Everywhere.”

He cursed, and then he had picked her up again, barely breaking the kiss as he strode for the stairs. She slid against the hardness at his groin, wrapping her legs around his waist, the pressure delicious. This was everything she had been hoping for. Pleasure shot through her.

His steps faltered. She wrapped one arm around his neck and used the other to remove her skirts from around her legs. They kept getting in the way, and she wanted to feel.