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He snorted. ‘Whilst I haven’t had to deal with an inconvenient erection since my teenage years, I think I’ll survive.’ The blood rushed to her cheeks. She turned and attempted to take a few pictures of the figurines she’d lined up earlier, but her hand wouldn’t stop shaking.
‘Sara.’ He gently placed his hand over hers, steadying it. ‘I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable. It won’t happen again. We got carried away.’
She took a deep breath. Great, good. Except someone needed to tell her body, which was still tingling all over at his nearness. The whole of her still soft, ready and far too willing to leap at him and demand a repeat performance.
A man like Lance wouldn’t want her—if he’d wanted her, he would have done more. And there she’d been rubbing against him as if she were some feline overcome by catnip. Like Ferdinand when they’d spent their disastrous night together, Lance’s physical reaction hadn’t been to her as such. Any man would react that way to a woman wrapping herself around him and clinging like some rampant creeper. Anyhow, she needed to stand on her own two feet, not fall for her beautiful rescuer. Doing that would be a one-way journey to more heartbreak.
‘There’s nothing to apologise for, and nothing more to discuss,’ she said. She turned to face him because she was going to be an adult about this. Sophisticated. She forced herself to look up at him. His hair was dishevelled, mouth redder than usual from their kisses. He looked down at her with a world of concern shining in his eyes. ‘I had a nice time.’
He grimaced. Then nodded. Her hand was steady now, so she turned her back on him and began taking random photographs to give herself some space.
Lance was right. It was simply the intoxicating mix of the excitement of the moment and unrestrained hormones that had led them here. The adrenaline of finding her first valuable antique couldn’t be avoided. But her hormones? From now on they were being kept well and truly under lock and key.
They had to be.
CHAPTER SIX
ONTHEDRIVEback to Astill Hall Lance kept up a steady narrative on what they’d found and how much the figurines she’d discovered might fetch at auction. Sara was caught between wanting to scream at him to stop because he seemed so unaffected by what had happened and weeping in thanks that they could pretend nothing had happened at all.
Her body didn’t lie, though. No matter how mortified she still felt, it wanted him with a ferocity of desire she’d never experienced before. The ache inside, the heat between her thighs. The prickle of her nipples, now uncomfortable in her bra. As if she was ripe, ready to be picked. If he pulled the car over, dragged out a picnic blanket and wanted to have his way with her under a tree at the side of the road she feared she would agree with indecent enthusiasm.
Proving she wasn’t a good girl at all, butbad,as he’d first pointed out at the funeral months ago. Even more horrifying, she kind of liked it.
As they turned into the stately driveway of Astill Hall she was relieved she’d at least survived without begging him for a repeat performance or, worse, for forgiveness. The problem was, she wasn’t sure how sheshouldbehave, so she was trying steadfastly to just ignore the fact that she’d orgasmed with Lance’s hand stroking between her legs, murmuring those wicked words, making the fire inside her burn hotter...
As Lance parked the car in the expansive garage, George arrived to meet them. He looked from Lance to Sara and back again. Was it obvious something had happened? Surely not, and yet she couldn’t help feeling that guilt was written all over her face. The air between them became stiff and uncomfortable as the silence stretched.
‘Your Grace.’ He nodded to her. ‘Lady Sara.’
Lance raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this the way things are going to be?’
She wasn’t sure what any of this meant. As far as she was concerned, Lance’s butler seemed to be behaving entirely appropriately. He would have fitted in with any of the staff at the Morenburg Palace.
‘It’s only proper.’
‘When has anything in Astill Hall been proper?’
George stood a little taller. Glared at Lance. ‘You have a fiancée. There are standards to be upheld.’
‘You well know I’ve never been one forstandardsof any kind.’
‘Perhaps you can maintain them for a little longer since you have a deputation. From the village.’
Lance snorted. ‘Really? I’ve never had a deputation before.’ He looked over to her, a grin on his face. ‘I suspect I’m not the person they want to see. They’re interested in someone else entirely.’
‘Which is why I’m letting you know, in case Lady Sara wishes to...have some time before joining you.’
‘Excellent idea. We’re both in need of a moment.’
‘I’ll let them know you’ll be with them presently.’
George left and Lance turned to her, his expression serious. ‘Do you need anything—bathroom, cold water, a stiff drink? An excuse to avoid the next half hour or so?’
It was time to show him how unaffected she could be. ‘No, I’m happy to meet your deputation now. So long as I look presentable.’
They’d cleaned up in a guest bathroom at the manor house before leaving, but she wanted to make a good impression, although she wasn’t entirely sure why.
‘You could never look anything other than beautiful.’
