Bewitching the Duke - Page 26

Wanting nothing more than to take her pain away, he tugged her body against his. They were both soaked from the rain but he didn’t mind. Their heat warmed them. Passion flared as he skimmed his tongue over the crease of her lips again. Only this time, she opened for him.

The sensation of her velvety tongue on his almost sent him over the edge. He wanted to lay her down on the wet grass and make love to her for hours. As she responded to his kiss, he heard a low moan from her throat.

God, this wasn’t right. He couldn’t want her like this. He couldn’t make love to her all night. But his body wouldn’t listen to reason. He trailed his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks.

She moaned again as he pressed her hips to his growing erection. He wanted to slip into her warm depths and watch her face as she reached her climax. He wanted to release his pent-up frustrations and feel that moment of pure pleasure.

He wanted—

She thrust him away. “Oh dear Lord, what were you doing?”

He blinked and shook his head. “What was I doing? I believe you were doing it too.”

“That may be, but I am not engaged!”

Chapter 7

Selina raced to the woods to get away from the duke. Hiding behind a tree, she watched as he searched for her. She prayed the darkness would conceal her position. She didn’t want to hear his reasons for kissing her. Or face the fact that her body betrayed her.

“Selina, come out of hiding. I need to take you home,” he said, impatience lining his voice. “It’s raining and I believe we would both feel better if we talked about what happened in dry clothing by a warm fire.”

A warm fire with him near would lead to far more than a simple chat. With rain still falling, she could barely make out his form even though he was only a few feet away. She remained completely still to keep her hiding place secret.

“Dammit, Selina!” he shouted. “Where the bloody hell are you?”

The angry tone of his voice was just one more reason to keep quiet. At least now it sounded as if he was going deeper into the copse of trees. With him farther away, he might not find her tonight. If he did, he would surely tell her that his kiss meant nothing. He’d only been trying to make her feel better.

He was nothing more than a rake. All the rumors she’d heard about him over the years were true. She felt a pang of pity for his impending bride.

She stilled her thoughts and listened for him again. A twig snapped a distance away and then she heard a muttered curse. Knowing this might be her only chance, she broke away from the trees and ran toward the house.

Randall opened the door as she approached the house. “Is everything all right, Miss White?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” she replied with a quick glance back toward the pond. “I’m just wet from the rain.”

“I shall call for a bath,” he said and then walked down the hall to fetch the footmen.

“Thank you, Randall.” She hastily made her way up the back staircase to the third floor before the duke arrived back home. She closed her door and leaned against the hard wood as all the emotions of the night surfaced. Covering her face with her hands, she mumbled, “How could I have let him kiss me?”

She’d been so upset about Susan’s baby and then seeing him had only made her angry. And yet, those few moments in his arms gave her comfort and warmth and for some reason she felt certain he’d understood her pain. If it had ended there, she might not have thought any more about it. But she’d felt his reaction to their kiss when he pulled her hips tightly against his. His arousal had been long and hard, and she’d wanted to rub against him like a wanton.

She had wanted him tonight.

She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive in a dark brooding manner. But tonight was different. If she hadn’t come to her senses, she might have let him take her up to his room and make love all night long. That idea was mad. She would never become involved with a married man. While the duke had yet to say his vows, a betrothal meant a contract to marry.

Besides, how could she think of such a thing when she knew he hated her?

Slowly she undressed, but as she did, one thought wouldn’t leave her mind. If he hated her as he appeared to, why did he kiss her?

It made no sense.

As she reached for her night rail, she wondered about that.

He forced her to leave the estate because of her mother, but could there have been another reason? Could he desire her and think it best to remove her from his presence so he wouldn’t be tempted? She laughed aloud at her fanciful imagination.

After a few minutes more of pondering, she finally decided their kiss had been nothing but a quick lapse in judgment. Tomorrow, he would be kicking himself for kissing the wise woman . . . if he wasn’t already. She’d tasted the brandy on his velvety tongue. Too much drink was likely the explanation for his behavior.

Although, she could hardly blame brandy on her reaction to his heated kiss.

Tags: Christie Kelley Historical
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