The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton
She dropped her basket. He arched a brow and glanced pointedly at it. Before she retrieved it, he stooped and collected her things, picking up her sketchpad, which had spilled out.
“There is no need to be flustered, Mrs. Layton. I promise to leave you in your clothes.”
“How remarkably proper,” she teased drolly, desperate to disguise her alarm. One thousand pounds was a fortune. “And here I truly believed you had a reputation for being a debaucher of innocents.”
“A debaucher most assuredly, but not of the innocent. I wonder, in what category are you? The reserved sort? Or adventurous?”
The desire in his eyes set her world askew. “Are you trying to taunt me into agreeing to your request?”
“Most assuredly. Please also recall my exorbitant offer of payment.”
“And I would only need to sit for a few hours?” Why was her voice hoarse, and why were they standing so close?
“I may require you to be a tad bit scandalous.”
Her heart jerked most alarmingly. Lily cleared her throat. “How scandalous?”
“I want your hair loose, fanned across your shoulder…and your feet bare of stockings and boots so I may see your toes and the turn of your ankle. Nothing more.”
Nothing more… That was quite scandalous but paled in comparison to how she’d been spending her nights. They stared at each other for an indefinable amount of time. Lily was unsure what was happening, but something had changed between them. It was too vague for her to name, but awareness of it burned along her nerve endings. “Yes, I’ll sit for you,” she said softly.
A powerful need flared in his gaze before his lids shuttered.
She attempted to reassure herself she did it for the fortune he promised, but deep inside, she knew that to be a lie. It was simply because he asked. How very silly of her to be so thrilled at the notion of being improper with Lord Ambrose.
But inexplicably, he had somehow become a beautiful fire, and she wanted to burn in wanton delight.
Chapter Six
Oliver was not at all indifferent to Mrs. Lily Layton, which was a very startling truth to acknowledge. She knew nothing of the type of woman he wanted to marry, so why had he made his impulsive offer? Because he had wanted to wipe away the bleakness he saw in her eyes, the one that testified she might very well believe she chased an impossible dream. A thousand pounds was a trifling sum to him, but to her, it was freedom, independence, a chance to shine in a life that seemed so dreary for her.
“Is it so silly, do you believe, to want something of your own, to leave your mark on an ever-changing world?”
The stark yearning on her face had struck him hard, momentarily unbalancing him. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, and they had left the lodge without incident. And he was damned thankful, for never had he wanted to seduce a woman more. Lily walked ahead rapidly, her hips enticing him with their gentle sway. She laughed freely, which delighted him; even the imperfect overbite of one of her teeth, he found charming. If she only knew the lustful dreams she inspired. He clutched his unruly and inappropriate thoughts and buried them in the dark recesses of his mind.
Suddenly, she slipped, and with a soft cry, tumbled onto the muddy earth. He let out a curse and rushed to save her, only to end up in the muck with her. He pushed to his feet and was unable to find purchase on the slippery ground and landed on his ass once more.
A giggle escaped her, and he turned his blackest scowl in he
r direction. “I fail to see how this situation is amusing, Mrs. Layton.”
Her dress had been tossed up to her shin, revealing smooth, pale skin. The lady was without stockings. How scandalous. She had delicate, well-turned ankles, ones he could see crossed behind his neck as he parted the lips of her sex to lick and suck.
Sweet mercy.
“Forgive me. I cannot help noticing how many times I’ve fallen in front of you today.”
Merriment danced in the eyes staring at him, and he could only offer a soft, unintelligent grunt. He was bloody desperate to taste her lips. He’d lost his damn senses to even think of taking advantage of a worker within his household. He assisted her to her feet, finding her adorable when she growled at the sky, which chose to open once more.
“I bid you a good day, my lord!” Then she ran off as if the devil was chasing her, clutching her basket to her chest.
Oliver moved at a leisurely pace, uncaring that the rain was soaking through his clothes. He wanted Mrs. Lily Layton beneath him, rocking on his cock—hard and deep, then soft and sweet, those fine eyes darkening with pleasure.
God’s blood. He needed to stay away from her until the aberrant attraction faded. Instead, he would concentrate on finding his mysterious stranger. He only hoped she was as fascinating in the daylight as Lily was.
…
Dearest Diary,