To Desire a Wicked Duke (Courtship Wars)

Finding a spot to be alone, however, proved difficult. In every corridor, they passed small knots of chattering guests and busy footmen carrying trays to and from the buffet tables.

After trying several rooms, which were also occupied, they discovered the library deserted. When they slipped inside, Ian shut the door firmly behind them. Instantly the gay sounds of the gathering became muted.

“Alone at last,” Ian said, taking Tess in his arms.

“Just what are your intentions, wicked sir?” she asked, laughing up into his eyes.

“I have yet to decide. How wicked would you like me to be, my love?”

“A little ravishment might be gratifying.”

“I might comply if you beg prettily enough.”

Tess flashed him an arch smile. “You are still laboring under a severe misapprehension, your grace. I would be delighted to have you ravish me, but I will not beg you, prettily or otherwise.”

His half-lidded gaze was amused. “I seem to recall you reneging on that vow on several occasions … although I admit, you have had me pleading for mercy once or twice.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Only once or twice?”

“Well, perhaps somewhat more frequently than that.”

“Yes, much more frequently. Your memory is sadly lacking, I fear.”

“Then by all means, we must remedy my deficiency.”

Thankfully, Ian bent to kiss her, his mouth hot and tasting of passion. That exquisitely hard, hungry mouth could drive her wild and fill her with pleasure, Tess thought as his tongue tangled and dueled with hers. So could his hands. When those marvelous hands rose to caress her breasts through her gown, she moaned at the delicious sensations streaking through her.

She was only vaguely aware of the library door opening moments later.

“There you are,” a haughty female voice suddenly interrupted. “I should have known I would find you trysting.”

They broke apart and turned to face Tess’s disapproving godmother.

“Honestly, Rotham,” Lady Wingate complained. “Can you never manage to quell your sinful urges in public?”

Unperturbed, Ian slid an arm around Tess’s waist. “I have every right to tryst with my wife in my own home, Lady Wingate,” he said mildly. “We have been wed for more than six weeks now, in large part thanks to you.”

“Perhaps so, but it is deplorable, the way you disregard propriety when there are so many witnesses present. And you, my dear,” she said, fixing her gaze on Tess. “Have I taught you nothing about proper behavior in all these years?”

Despite her godmother’s avowed dismay, Tess suspected that Lady Wingate’s expression of shocked rectitude was largely feigned.

Her own tone turned wry when she replied. “I think you protest a bit too much, my lady. You were quite glad to catch us in an illicit embrace at your house party, since you could demand that Rotham marry me. It all worked out exactly as you hoped. Come now, admit it.”

The hint of a pleased smile on Lady Wingate’s lips confirmed that she was only pretending to be scandalized now. “I admit that I was clever enough to take advantage of the opportunity you presented.”

Ian answered for Tess. “You were indeed clever, my lady. And you are also astute enough to know when you are unwanted … as you are presently.”

Lady Wingate pursed her mouth for a moment but gave in with good grace. “Very well, I will leave you to your shameless dalliances. I want a god-grandchild to keep young Jamie company. But I trust you will not make a habit of exposing Tess to scandal every time you venture out in public together, Rotham.”

“Not every time,” Ian pledged. “Only now and then.”

Tess stifled a laugh as the baroness shook her head in exasperation.

When the noblewoman had left the library and shut the door firmly behind her, Ian turned to Tess. “Now where were we?” he asked, drawing her against him again.

“I believe you were kissing me witless.”

Tess thought he would resume his delightful attentions, but he hesitated. “She does have a point,” he observed. “Jamie needs a playmate or two to keep him company.”