Page 35 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

Her voice trailed off. The candles fluttered as the door shut.

“Are we alone now?” Adrian asked, easing up on one well-muscled shoulder, his eyes intent on Emma.

She glanced back at the closed door. “Yes, but she won’t be—”

She gasped in surprise as he pulled her onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist, his face buried in her neck. “I had a dream about you,” he said. “I’ve never dreamed like that before.”

“A dream—Adrian, she’s going to come back at any moment.”

“I don’t care.”

He sank his fingers into the tight knot of hair at her nape and sought her mouth. If they had only a moment, he was not about to waste it. He could hear her breath catch sweetly. For an instant he felt her resistance start to slip; her mouth parted for his kiss, her back arched against the hand he’d planted above her bottom. Desire leapt to life in his belly. He might have been dreaming of her before, but this was real. Her breath mingled with his. Her soft flesh yielded.

He wanted her. Not only her surrender but her company, damn the danger of being caught. They were past the age of reproach. She had been married and he’d been to war. His blood came to a slow boil, and she knew it, too. He enjoyed the challenge. In proving himself to her, he might convince himself of his own worth.

“Emma.” He brushed the back of his hand down her shoulder to her breast, shivering at the silky texture of her skin, remembering how real his dream had been. His lips teased her mouth.

“Adrian, please,” she whispered. “Not now.”

He released a sigh. His hands moved down her graceful back, learning her shape, kneading her vulnerable curves. His body was so aroused that it hurt.

They both heard the approach of someone on the stairs at the same time. She raised her hand, inadvertently touching his painful erection. He groaned in resignation and subsided back onto the bed.

She disengaged herself at the same instant the door opened, whispering in reproach, “This really isn’t going to make you feel better, Lord Wolverton.”

He stared at her wet, swollen mouth and thought that she was entirely wrong. Talking with her, making love to her, would bring him immense relief. His great body shuddered in need as she threw the covers back over him. “Yes, it is,” he said stubbornly. “Just being with you is pleasant. Do you not enjoy my presence?”

She wavered. “I’ve scarcely known you long enough to think of it.”

“Well, you don’t steal comfits from a wedding cake to please every stranger you meet, do you?”

She laughed softly to hide her confusion. “No. I don’t.”

“Then why did you flirt so charmingly with me yesterday?” he challenged her.

She studied his hard-boned face. “Perhaps I was hoping to keep you out of trouble.”

“And now,” he said quietly, “I’m in the deepest trouble of my life.”

She had little time to reflect upon what he meant, or even to respond.

A familiar masculine figure bearing a water pitcher materialized behind Emma. Heath. Not Julia. “What is he saying?” Heath asked, lowering himself onto the stool by the bed. “Julia said he was half-delirious.”

“It’s nonsense,” Emma said evasively. “He was dreaming. What are you doing here? I should think you were in bed yourself.”

Adrian could hear the quaver in her voice. Heath would surely notice it, too. He was of a mind to explain himself to her brother, to confess that he’d developed an inexplicable attraction to Heath’s sister. But he’d promised. He couldn’t say anything until she gave him permission.

“I thought I’d keep you company,” Heath said after a measured silence. “Do you mind?”

Emma looked up at him. Her faint smile seemed to say that if he weren’t her trusted older brother, she might have resented his presence. “Why would I mind? He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“As far as I know,” Heath said, his voice thoughtful. “Our brother-in-law trusts him implicitly.”

Emma lowered her eyes. “Dominic is a good man,” she said quietly. Dominic had survived a brutal murder attempt and brought his would-be killer to justice with the help of their sister Chloe. “He allows precious few people into his life.”

Heath stared at her. “As do you and I, Emma.”

She nodded. “I feel responsible for him.”