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She wavered between right and wrong and decided that perhaps it was time to loosen some of the strictures she’d placed around herself. She had the power to distract Lord Osgood from his troubles—and face the yawning emptiness inside of her, because she’d held on to the pain surrounding the baron for far too long. She’d ignored her body’s physical demands, telling herself that one magical night with Udell had been enough to satisfy her through the years.
But it wasn’t true. Her curiosity was far from quenched, heryearning for this man too strong to deny. Her affair with Udell had been everything she might have been hoping for when it came to love, as her heart had been overflowing. But she’d been denied the fiery passion that belonged to lovers. She wanted to remember what it was like to have the feel of a man’s arms around her, to feel that hard length between her legs. This far from England, it wasn’t as if anyone would have to know something had happened between them. It could be their secret, and since he already knew where she stood on marriage, there would be no illusions about taking things any further.
She’d had one night with the baron.
She would allow herself to have one night with the marquess.
Without a word, she walked over to the bell pull. When a maid arrived a short time later, she said in a perfectly calm tone. “Would you happen to have any brandy on hand?”
The lady shook her head regrettably. “We dinna, my lady.”
Isadora thought for a moment. “I’m sure there’s some sort of local scotch.” At the affirmation, she added, “A bottle of your finest, if you please. The marquess and I would like to see the best that Scotland has to offer.”
The girl curtsied and rushed away. When she was gone, she glanced at Lord Osgood. His brows had creased into a frown. She was grateful that he didn’t speak, or she might lose her courage before she’d had a chance to steel her nerves with the liquid fire that was on its way.
When the servant returned with a tray holding a full, open bottle and two glasses, Isadora was grateful. She walked to the maid and inspected the label on the offering. “Glenturret. Hmm.” Isadora lifted her focus to the maid, and then she spoke quietly for her ears alone. “I hope that this house knows how to be discreet. I promise that you will be properly compensated for your silence on the morrow.”
The girl bobbed her head. “Aye, my lady.”
“Good.” Isadora dismissed her, and when she was alone withthe marquess, she poured two glasses and walked over to hand one to him. “I apologize that they didn’t have your preferred choice. I’m afraid this will have to do.”
Again, he looked at her curiously, but said nothing as he accepted the glass and took a large drink. She watched his throat work as he swallowed. “It will suffice.”
Their kiss in the carriage swamped her memory and she turned away to pour her own glass. Isadora drank very little spirits, choosing only to have a small glass of wine with dinner, or perhaps some Madeira at a society event.
She downed the fiery scotch in one large gulp.
Isadora coughed lightly as the strong taste of alcohol stole her breath. However, it wasn’t long before the burn was quickly replaced with a warm swirl in the pit of her stomach. It was particularly nice and just what she needed to calm her taut nerves.
She turned around to spy the marquess, who had yet to remove his gaze from her. Feeling empowered, she started to slowly remove the fastenings on her gown. He instantly froze.
“What are you doing?” His voice was husky.
She regarded him in her usual, direct manner. “Getting more comfortable.”
The gown fell to the floor in a forgotten heap.
He didn’t say anything as she started to disrobe, but she could tell by the way his nostrils flared, and the decided bulge between his thighs that his cock was hard and pulsing with raw vitality. She moved closer to him as she started to discard the pins holding up her hair. It tumbled about her shoulders in a dark wave.
“Isadora…” he whispered.
“Shhh.” She stopped directly in front of him and placed a hand on the fall of his trousers. His breathing hitched as she started to stroke him. “You know I don’t like to lessen whatever it is I have to say. I’ve always been direct and to the point when it comes toany business or personal affairs.” His eyes were heavy lidded as he looked at her. “Not only do I want to ease your pain, but I’ve been alone for too long. You were right when you said I should release my inhibitions.” She leaned closer to him, until there was but a slight distance between her mouth and his. “There is just one thing that I ask. Whatever happens tonight cannot leave this room, and it can go as far as I tell you. But I vow that I will not leave you without a release.” She nipped at the side of his jaw and he groaned. “Do you agree to my terms, Lord Osgood?”
She paused long enough to await his answer. His mesmerizing eyes shimmered with a glossy amber. “This has to be a dream. You don’t talk this way. You don’tactthis way.”
“No. I don’t.” As she spoke, she continued to stroke his hard length through his trousers. He gritted his teeth. “But tonight, I don’t want to be Lady Isadora Bevelstroke. I want to be a woman who yearns tofeel.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “If this is a fantasy, I don’t want to face reality ever again.”
She moved her hand away and set both of them on his shoulders. She allowed her breasts to rub against his chest. “You can imagine anything you want, my lord, but just for one night. But first, you have to give me your word, or we stop now.”
He threw his head back with a guttural moan, and then he clasped her face in his hands. “Whatever you want, my lady.” He agreed harshly. “It’s yours. And if one night is all I can have, then I will have to content myself with it.”
His mouth descended on hers.
Isadora thrilled at his kiss. Her thighs were the first to burn with desire, and then the flames flowed to other parts of her body, before finally settling in her midsection. The marquess undid the flap of his trousers and his cock sprang free. He grasped her hand and set it back over his manhood where she continued her long, easy strokes. Holding the full, naked lengthof him in her grasp made the fire in her lower belly grow and expand even more.
He tore his mouth from hers with a heavy pant. “My God, Isadora. You’re sending me to madness.”
