Page 33 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

“His pulses seemed fine until you entered the room, Lady Lyons,” the doctor answered, sounding a little perplexed. “Perhaps the excitement of hearing your voice after what happened yesterday has overstimulated him.”

“After what—”

“Forgive me for bringing it up again,” the physician said at her distraught look. “I know it is an incident a lady would wish to forget.”

He had no idea. Emma took another step forward. The excitement of seeing her after what happened…He could not possibly be referring to those events of the past evening, unless Adrian had become delirious and talked in his sleep.

She tiptoed closer to his bedside. From the doorway he had appeared more subdued than the last time she had seen him, which, considering exactly what he’d been doing to her, was a relief.

But as his head turned on the pillow, as his unfocused eyes lifted briefly to hers in question, she was struck by his obvious decline during the night. His beautiful sun-bronzed skin had taken on a chalky pallor. Dark circles carved shadows above his strong cheekbones. The devilish twinkle in his half-lidded hazel eyes could only be a sign of fever. “He doesn’t look himself at all,” she exclaimed.

The physician shook his head. “I agree. I’d have applied leeches to his veins had he not kicked up such a fuss.”

She took a deep breath. “Perhaps you will have to restrain him. I don’t mind helping if it is what he requires.”

“We can wait a bit. I’ve just gotten a decent dose of opium into him—Lady Lyons, you look a little peaked yourself. Should you not have a sit?”

“Thank you, no.” Her horrified gaze latched on the jar of leeches at Adrian’s bedside. The poor rogue. Was it possible that he had not even known he was seducing her last night? Had she, in letting herself be taken advantage of, taken advantage of a senseless man? Perhaps he had not been himself at all. Perhaps he had not even known what he was about.

“Dear heavens,” she whispered, backing so abruptly into the bedpost that she not only alarmed the physician but also startled Adrian into opening his eyes to stare at her.

A shiver of electrifying sensation chased down her back. For the most peculiar instant he appeared so lucid that she was tempted to believe he had made a sudden recovery. And then he slumped back against the pillows with a disheartening moan. She was not certain what his behavior meant.

She turned her head to the physician. “Did he just awaken only to fall unconscious again?”

The Scotsman leaned over Adrian’s unmoving form, searching for the pulse in his throat. “He appears to be asleep. I’ve drugged him heavily. I do believe you aroused his passions and thus stimulated his response.”

“I what?” she asked in an embarrassed whisper.

“The passionate humours that govern a patient’s—my gracious, it is only an old medical term, Lady Lyons. I did not mean it in a literal sense nor to offend you.” He rose. “The smell of these herbs is aggravating my lungs. Excuse me while I step out into the air a moment to clear my head. Do you want me to summon a servant? I don’t think he is liable to awaken again for some time.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ll wait until you come back.”

Adrian was surprised how guilty he felt at Emma’s concern over his apparent, and fraudulent, decline. In fact, he was suddenly ashamed of himself for attempting to deceive her. The truth was that he enjoyed her attention, and he wasn’t entirely ready to give it up. The concern of an attractive woman, he was learning, was a powerful beguilement indeed.

She touched his shoulder, murmuring that he would be all right. Her voice held him spellbound. Adrian could not remember when, if ever, he’d known such a pure and beautiful attraction. Without doubt she was the most desirable, the finest woman he’d ever met. She came from a family he had long respected.

And how had he repaid that respect?

His thoughts drifted.

The drug blunted his awareness. He slipped into elusive darkness, a dream.

“Don’t be afraid,” Emma whispered.

“Of what?” His voice was hoarse. It must be nightfall. Had he been asleep?

“Of the dark. I’m here to take care of you. I know what you need.”

What he needed.

He managed to sit up in bed and stared into the dark, his throat closing. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been at his side. But she appeared to be removing her dressing gown, slowly dropping it to the carpet. Her beautiful breasts shone like large pearls in the darkness. Her slender limbs danced enticingly beyond his reach. Delicate yet voluptuous. A woman’s ripe body. His groin burned.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “Don’t let anyone else…see you.”

His gaze traveled over her perfect body. Her brown-pink nipples, her rounded belly, the fluff of gold-tinged curls above her sweet quim. He wished to God he could shake off his fatigue. His mouth watered at the sight of her. “Turn around,” he ordered her huskily, his penis lifting against the bedclothes.

She did, her red-gold hair teasing the tempting white cheeks of her arse. He grabbed her by the waist, one hand settling between her silky thighs. She was warm and fragrantly wet, riding his wrist like a naughty little nymph. He bit her nape. She bucked, thrusting her breasts out, and uttering a soft cry. He squeezed one ripe nipple until it turned cherry-red and taut.