“I do try, your grace.”
Tried and failed last night—rather spectacularly, in fact. Gillian had not stopped thinking about her employer ever since their kiss, and in ways she was not supposed to consider him. It was very likely she could have shared his bed, if she’d not been scared witless by the very great risk she’d taken with her reputation.
He glanced behind them. “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night.”
She startled. “But you did. Why?”
He appeared puzzled. “I took advantage of you having put mistletoe in my pocket.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what must have happened. Jessica must have put it in her father’s pocket when she’d said good night to him! “I did not put mistletoe in your pocket.”
Gillian put her hand over her lips. The kiss had been a mistake, and she’d pay for it somehow. “You must think the worst of me, but I know my place.”
“Your place is exactly where you are.” He studied her, and she grew warm under the intensity of his stare. “You did nothing wrong in my eyes.”
“If you say so, but I am afraid others would disagree.”
“Last night was all too brief to warrant any lasting awkwardness between us, but I do apologize if you were left unsatisfied. Your husband would have had much more leisure to do a better job of kissing you.”
It took her a second to understand him, and then she blushed harder. She had let him believe she’d been happily married when they’d first met but the lie had come back to haunt her in the worst way. The truth was much too humiliating to share. “Oh, yes. Yes, he was very good at that.”
He stared, and then his smile grew wider. “I’m better.”
She opened her mouth in shock. “No gentleman should ever say such a thing.”
“Duke I may be, but have I ever claimed to be a saint, Mrs. Thorpe?”
Gillian shook her head. “I never imagined you were.”
“Good.” He swooped down and claimed her lips in a
fierce kiss that took her breath away.
Gillian clung to him as her knees grew weak. Despite her previous experience with the duke, she was not prepared for this assault on her senses. His arms came around her, drawing her close. He kissed her soundly, drawing on her lips and shifting constantly against her body. Gillian lifted trembling arms around his shoulders as her legs threatened to buckle. Could any stolen kiss have ever been so thoroughly delivered before?
He drew back a little to speak. “You and I need a little privacy.”
Although she shouldn’t agree, she nodded anyway, feeling excited when he clasped her hand and tugged.
Gillian was led into his study, and the doors were closed and locked. Stapleton turned, captured her face, and proceeded to kiss her witless once more against the hard wood door. She found herself perched over his knees ten minutes later, his fingers in her hair, his lips tugging hers. She pinched herself, concerned she might be dreaming this.
She drew back. “Oh dear.”
“So can I claim the distinction of kissing you better than your husband once did?”
“Oh, yes.” She squirmed. He’d promised he hadn’t wanted to know about her marriage. She’d never known such kisses existed. Wallace had certainly not kissed her like that. “Indeed, you have been quite thorough about it.”
He laughed softly. “I had hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to please you.”
He kissed her cheek, and then her throat. Gillian shivered and clutched to him as he slowly lowered her backward onto the chaise they were sitting on.
As he hovered above her, Gillian panicked. She pushed him away and struggled to escape his clutching hands. “What have I done?”
One of the stipulations Lord Stapleton had insisted upon was that Gillian would share her knowledge of the delights of the marriage bed with Jessica, to prepare the girl. He had said he wanted Gillian to take her mother’s place in explaining every facet of married life. Gillian had hedged about her experience quite a bit at that point, feeling acute embarrassment at the time. Gillian had been married, to a man twenty five years her senior, but she hadn’t found her brief experience in the marriage bed at all delightful. Wallace had never kissed her with such passion.
She couldn’t let Stapleton discover she wasn’t as experienced as she’d promised him she was.
Her job depended on her maintaining propriety. She clung to the back of a chair for support. She was Jessica’s companion, not his.