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Yet curiosity got the better of her, and she tiptoed toward the sounds of unbridled passion. There was a couple in the gazebo a few feet away. She couldn’t make out the people involved, but they were entwined in the most sensual of acts.
Jo clenched her thighs together as she started getting aroused.
“Oh, Isabel,” the male voice growled, and Jo stumbled.
Isabel?
Jo instantly turned away and hurried as far away from the couple as she could. Isabel was the hostess of the house party and the man enjoying her feminine delights was none other than her husband, the marquess!
Everyone was looking for them at the ball while they were making love in their gazebo.
Jo chuckled as she hurried her steps. Good for them.
She hadn’t met a lot of loving couples among theton. And she was oddly delighted that her instincts about this couple had been proven right.
The viscount had worried about his sister for naught.
Jo didn’t notice how she made her way back to the main entrance of the house. She was still hot, and clothing stuck to her overheated skin. Her hair was disheveled, and her breathing was accelerated.
She wasn’t certain if she was still overwrought from her tryst with the viscount, or if it was the residue of arousal from witnessing the passionate interlude of her hosts. Either way, she didn’t feel like joining the ball again.
No, what she needed was something else.
The doors to my suite are always open.The viscount’s invitation proved to be too enticing.
Jo grimaced and hurried toward her room. She couldn’t afford to get entangled with the viscount.
And as for her need? Well, she could take care of her needs on her own.
Unless, of course, Selena was in the room. Then she would have to suffer her feverish needs or throw a bucket of cold water on herself.
Jo pushed the door, but it didn’t budge. Was it locked? Jo pushed it harder only to hear a squeak. As the door finally opened, something crashed loudly to the floor. No. Not something. Someone!
Jo yelled, jumped back, tripped over her gown, and fell onto her arse. She peeked into the room cautiously, only to see a woman with sandy-blond hair, wearing an ocean-blue gown lying in a heap on the floor.
“Selena?”
“Jo?”
Jo scrambled off the floor, entered the room, and helped Selena to her feet. Both women started adjusting their clothing.
“What happened?” Jo looked Selena up and down. Her hair was disheveled, and her gown was wrinkled. Jo imagined she didn’t look much better, not because of the tumble, but rather because of her lurid interlude with the viscount.
“I just came to our room, rather tired, and leaned against the door,” Selena said as she readjusted her clothing. “And then a moment later, you pulled the rug out of my feet, or rather pushed the door from behind my leaning back.”
Jo let out a chuckle and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling.”
Selena’s troubled face softened. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know I was there. Should have leaned against the wall.”
“What are you doing here so early?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Selena said, eyeing Jo’s appearance. “By the look of it, it wasn’t the tumble that wrinkled your perfect appearance. Or at least, not that kind of tumble.”
Jo looked down at her gown and self-consciously smoothed her hair. Her cheeks heated, and her mouth went dry.
Selena let out a chuckle and hid behind the screen as she started disrobing. “Tell me, who is the lucky gentleman? Or should I say the lucky chap, since I know you don’t cavort with aristocrats?”
Jo swallowed. She didn’t want to lie to Selena. Besides, she needed to get it off her chest. “Viscount Gage.”
