The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

"Does it offend you?"

"No."

Brock had to lean closer to hear. The scent of jasmine filled his head. It was a more sensual scent than he thought she’d choose, but this astonishing conversation revealed she harbored depths he’d never suspected.

"It’s exciting." She went on, her voice a mere whisper. "Nobody has ever spoken to me like this. Roderick was a bit of a prude. He hardly ever mentioned our relations. And it’s not a subject I’ve broached with Cecil."

"He wants you." Brock had seen that from the first.

"Yes," she said with a commendable lack of false modesty. "That’s why he’s prepared to take on a penniless widow with a son. He’s rich enough to look much higher for a bride, perhaps even to the aristocracy."

Selina was no dupe. Nor was she a coy ingénue, for all her lack of experience with sexual satisfaction. Brock had started the night wanting her. Now he was in a fever to have her to himself.

"You’re the one who stoops to accept him."

Self-mockery twisted her lips. "The world wouldn’t agree."

"The world is an ass." Brock returned to what was worrying him. "You trust me enough to consent to be my lover."

Another of those searching inspections that seemed to penetrate to his stained soul. "Yes, I do. I don’t know why, but something tells me I’m in safe hands."

Warmth filled him, although God knew he was no hero. "I’ll do my best to justify your faith."

"I only ask you to be careful. I don’t love Cecil, but I owe him better than to marry him already carrying another man’s child."

Brock curled his hand over the back of the settle to stop himself from reaching for her. "I’ll be as careful as I can be."

"That’s all I ask."

Anticipation filled Brock, made his blood fizz like champagne. "So we have a rendezvous tomorrow at the Blue Wagon?"

Determination hardened her features. "We do."

"Then it’s time we parted." He stood and held out his hand. "I promised to keep you from scandal. We’ve been lucky that nobody has come in to discover us."

"I doubt Lord Derwent’s guests are interested in the library," she said drily.

Her humor drew a huff of appreciative laughter from Brock. He was sure she was right. The house party had passed in drinking and gossip and sex – with Canley-Smythe and his prim betrothed distinctly out of place in the louche atmosphere. "Lucky for me I wandered in for a moment’s quiet reflection, then."

A moment alone, so he could plot his seduction of Cecil Canley-Smythe’s future wife, more like. It turned out no plotting had been necessary. Tonight, it was clear that the devil was on his side.

"Lucky for me." She took his hand and rose, then her upward movement continued.

Only as her arms slid around his neck and she stretched to fit her lips to his did he realize what she intended. He, the great seducer, caught out by a beautiful woman’s boldness. The press of her body made him as hard as a wooden spar.

But her lips were soft and eager and tasted of an innocence that belied her widowhood. Her awkward fervor made his head spin. Dear Lord above, she even kept her mouth closed like a young girl kissed for the first time.

All night, Selina had held him suspended almost painfully between tenderness and desire. Why should her kiss be any different?

It was slow to dawn on him that this woman who had been married for nine years and borne a child had no idea how to kiss a man. Tonight he’d heard enough to learn to despise Roderick Martin. Now he wished the bugger was alive so that he could murder him. The bastard had had the supreme good fortune to marry Selina, yet from what Brock could see, he hadn’t put an ounce of effort into cherishing her.

So the hands that curled around her waist were gentle, not urgent with possession. Brock used his lips to temper her untutored enthusiasm. When he flicked his tongue along the seam of her lips, she released a soft sound of astonishment. He repeated the action more slowly and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. She tasted glorious and another of those confused little hums of pleasure sent arousal thundering through him.

When he pulled back, she gave a gratifying growl of disappointment. He trailed kisses down the side of her face. "Open for me, Selina."

She went rigid in his hold. "Open?"

He pressed his lips to hers and this time nipped at that luscious lower lip. When she parted to allow him entry, he felt like he’d won a mighty victory. With leisurely enjoyment, he swept his tongue into the warm, wet heat of her mouth.