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The Dowager smiled as if she’d given her agreement rather than a prevarication. “Of course, my dear. Tomorrow is your day off... do take all the time you need.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She glanced at the Duke, but he was still studying the floor with a determined glower. “If you don’t mind, I think I shall return home for the evening.”
“Quite.”
Nora swept the Dowager a curtsy. “Thank you, Your Grace. I shall consider your words most carefully.”
This time, no one tried to stop her as she left.
—
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CHAPTERSEVEN
“Iwill never agree” Soft, supple lips, set in a hard line under blazing blue eyes. The little maid faced him without a trace of fear... and the sight was alluring.
He stepped forward, undeterred by her ferocious scowl. “No? Allow me to persuade you.”
And then he moved forward, tilting her chin up and his own head down. Their lips met, and heat sprang to life between them. He molded his lips to hers, swept his tongue across the seam of her mouth, and reveled in the soft sound she made as she acquiesced. Her mouth was warm and sweet, as was the heat of her as she leaned into his arms.
Soft and pliant in pleasure, nothing like the fire of earlier words. But no sooner had he thought it than she pulled away, remembering herself. “I will not be toyed with.”
“I will do no such thing.” He drew her back, but there was no easy, surprised compliance. She met him willingly enough but also willfully, hands hard and firm against his chest, implacable in controlling the distance despite her small size.
Well enough. He tipped his head to deepen this kiss and stroked his hands down her shoulders, delivering the lightest of teasing strokes to her breasts and relishing the gasp that escaped her as he did so. A shift of his weight…
Arthur woke with a groan of frustration and an aching hardness in his groin, sheets tented, and sweaty and too warm from his arousal. He kicked them off, hissing as cooler air flowed over him, and rolled away from his sweat-dampened pillow.
The ball had only ended a few hours ago, and sleep had been elusive, and now this.
He willed the aching stiffness down, then found a new position on the cooler portion of the bed and closed his eyes, breathing in the soft scent of rain and cedar that he preferred his linens to be aired with.
Rain and cedar mingled with a delicate floral scent. Lily, or jasmine, or perhaps something subtler, like heather. Yes, heather and good clean soap with just a touch of something underneath, a bouquet to tease the senses.
He blinked, and there was Nora, standing near his bed, dark hair tousled and free of its usual confining styling. She was not amused. “What are you thinking of, Your Grace?”
“You.” There was no reason not to be honest. He reached out to draw her down, draw her to him…
And flailed, dragged awake with a jolt as he nearly toppled from the mattress. He jerked back roughly, chest heaving as he fought to regain his equilibrium and a safer position.
When had he gone so close to the edge of the bed? Certainly, he had been dreaming, but even so…
