“Ah, am I to be pinked for dallying with young Frederick in the garden?” Cherry teased at her naughtiest, stealing his lordship’s thunder.
“Then you are aware of the impropriety of your conduct,” his lordship said. It was obvious that it had not been a question and that he expected no reply. He looked as though he had a ready lecture to read, but Cherry was up to his game and not playing.
A gurgle of laughter escaped her lips before she waved the whole thing off and exclaimed, “Nonsense! Impropriety, indeed.” With her chin, she indicated the house. “Look there, we sat in full view of the garden windows … unlike when you lured me behind the tent at the fair …” She hurried on as she witnessed a storm gathering in his dark blue eyes. “We simply had a conversation, older woman with a troubled young man. Tell me, where is the impropriety?”
He shook his head, and his brows were drawn. It was obvious he was suffering mixed emotions. “You have a habit of turning things about, but it won’t do, Miss Sarah. Can’t you see the lad is in love with you?”
“Absurd, my lord,” she answered softly. “Freddy is infatuated with me for the moment. All he needs is direction.”
“Which he should be getting from me,” his lordship returned testily.
“True, but it seems his scrapes have brought him under your censure. It is difficult to confide in someone you love and admire, and whose respect you honestly wish to obtain, when you are forever in the suds.” She reached over and touched his lordship’s arm. A spark shot through her fingers, but she managed to say, “How can he confess to you when he finds himself in yet another scrape?”
“Another scrape? Has he fallen into yet another scrape?” His lordship sounded disgusted.
“Stop that,” she returned. “That awful tone of yours … so arrogant and superior. ’Tis why he can’t go to you with his problems. He fears censure.”
He stood erect, obviously momentarily taken aback by both her audacity and her words. His dark blue eyes narrowed, and he said, “Who are you really, Miss Sarah Parker? For I tell you now, you are not who you say.”
She waved that off. “We are speaking of Freddy.”
They were almost at the house. The front doors stood only a few feet from them, and she knew an urge to run. If she didn’t run, she was going to be breaking one more rule, because she was falling in love for this big, strong, rogue of a man, and then … and then she would be in trouble.
“Yes, and one has to wonder how we ever managed to get on without you,” he said dryly as he reached for and opened the door.
“Hmmm,” Cherry brightly agreed. “One wonders, indeed my lord.” As she giggled and brushed by him, she felt a delicious tingle as their bodies touched in the frame of the open doorway.
* * *
She knew he wanted to be alone with her.
She had seen something in his eyes during dinner and then afterwards just before she took the twins to bed. After Freddy left for a night on the town, she found herself anticipating his every move.
His lordship arrived at the twins’ chambers to help tuck them in. When he turned to her and invited her to join him by the fire in the library for a glass of sherry, she felt her heart quicken. She knew the safe thing to do was to decline, but Cherry rarely took the safe road …
He looked sensual as he loosened his intricate neckcloth, removed his cutaway superfine and then his waistcoat, and dropped them negligently on the floor. He stood in his white shirtsleeves. It was open at the neckline in a long V, and the material clung to his broad, firm chest. As Cheryl eyed him she felt the need for air. She licked her lips as she watched him pour her a glass of the sweet brew. She noted that his eyes were on her lips, and she shivered as she took a sip.
“Are you cold, Miss Sarah?”
“No, the fire is lovely,” she said, moving closer to it.
He was behind her, and his finger ran over her bare arm as he whispered, “You need to go to town and find some appropriate gowns … something … less …” His voice was a caress. “…revealing.”
“Yes, so I shall … also, if I may purchase a simple riding habit. You can deduct it from my remuneration.”
“Nonsense—you may purchase anything you need. Deduct it from your remuneration, indeed,” he objected out loud. His voice was a low, charged sound of primal need, “Don’t you see how much I want you, beauty? When you are mine … I will take care of you—”
“Stop!” Cherry was horrified. He was propositioning her! “I have not asked you to set me up as your mistress, nor would I ask such a thing.”
“But you do want me—I see it, feel it. You can’t hide it from me, as I can’t hide it from you. When we kiss … when we look at one another—”
“You are very sure of yourself,” she cut in hurriedly, threw down the sherry, and stepped away. “Good night, my lord.” Her entire body had been on fire because she did want him. She wanted all of him, and it was more than her body wanting his. It was her heart that called his name, whispered longings in her brain. It was her heart that wanted him to take her into his arms and make wild, passionate love to her—damn the consequences.
Sky had her then in his all-consuming embrace, and it appeared he was determined to exhibit just how much they wanted each other as his lips parted hers. His magical tongue moved inside her sweet mouth and promised pleasures to the delicious mate it discovered there. His tongue lingered with hers gently, tutoring her on what was to come as it tangoed with her tongue and made her knees melt.
His hand moved down her back and pulled her in by her rump hard against him, and she felt his rod throb against her belly while her loins beat out a rhythm that would not be denied.
He was so right—she wanted him, all of him—and still she managed the strength to break away from his burning kiss and to say in a hushed, barely audible sound, “Good night, my lord.”