A Scandalous Affair (The Merry Widows 3)

Wanting to deflect her, he offered a polite smile. “You haven’t offended. I’m just not…feeling very well.”

She stood there, gazing down at him. Her expression said it all. She didn’t believe him. He sensed she wanted to say more but she refrained. Pasting on a smile instead, she offered him her hand, waggled her fingers at him. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

Her smile grew, genuine now. “It’s a surprise. Please, come with me. I want to make up for whatever misdeed I made toward you that offended you so.”

“It—it isn’t you.” He took her soft, slender hand and stood, not releasing

his grip on her. Her startled gaze met his. “You did nothing. I let my wayward thoughts get away from me.”

“Oh, well you must put a halt to that and immediately, don’t you think?” Giving him a saucy wink, she tugged him close, then started toward the doorway.

He had no choice but to follow, covertly watching her swaying hips as she led him down the corridor. She really was beautiful. And sweet. And a bit of good fun, something he desperately needed in his life. He was far too somber. Hell, he rarely smiled and the word “fun” wasn’t even in his vocabulary.

He had a suspicion if he allowed this particular woman deeper into his life, he wouldn’t regret it.

“Here we are.” They walked into a small sitting room, stopping in the middle of it. It was sparsely furnished and dark, only a single candelabra lighting the interior, and she stepped closer to him, grasping both of his hands in hers. “Would you care to dance?”

His brows lifted in surprise as she fitted herself more closely to him. “You’re asking me to dance again?”

She smiled. “It worked before, didn’t it? Besides, you seem to do your best when we’re alone. Though I did receive an invitation to the Westham ball yesterday afternoon. Perhaps we could dance together there?”

He’d received an invite as well. And he’d immediately dismissed it. What was the point in attending if no one spoke to him? It had been a mistake, trying to earn their respect and friendship. He’d hoped at the beginning of the Season to eventually earn the hand of a lovely young lady who wanted to marry him.

It had ended up being a colossal waste of his time.

“You’re tense,” she murmured, shaking their linked hands so his arms waved up and down. “You need to relax.”

Before he could reply, she released her grip on his hands and touched him. Smoothing her palms up the length of his forearms, his upper arms until she settled her fingers upon his shoulders, she firmly squeezed him there. And sighed loudly. “You’re very tense. Go, sit down.”

She waved a hand toward a small velvet settee and started toward it. He followed her, confused by her fluttering ways, her constantly changing mind. She was a hard one to keep up with.

Following her silent command, he settled his large frame on the delicate settee, hopeful he didn’t break it. The legs were spindly, the seat narrow and thin. She moved behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders and pressing her fingers deep into his tight muscles.

The groan that spilled forth couldn’t be contained no matter how hard he tried. Her touch was amazing. Her skillful fingers dug into his muscles, kneading the tension right out of him. He closed his eyes. Hung his head as she continued her delightful assault.

“Feels good?” she whispered when she pressed particularly hard.

Heavenly. “Yes,” he choked out.

“You worry too much, you know. And you carry all that worry on your big, strong shoulders, which is why you’re so tense.”

He let her words sink in, knowing she spoke the truth.

“You are a titled and wealthy gentleman, Hartwell. You shouldn’t care so much about what others think of you. You shouldn’t worry over their motives in getting to know you, either,” she continued. Such practical words spoken in such a sweet, lilting voice, the sound of it seduced him. Everything about her was seductive. The way she touched him, treated him, looked at him. Sincerity threaded her voice. He believed her.

More than anything, he believed she believed in him.

“I realize most of the ton is filled with a gossiping bunch who enjoy nothing better than giving those they believe beneath them the cut direct. I’m sure you’ve probably been treated terribly. I know I have, despite my connection to Hugh, despite my title and widow status. I realized after my husband died that I cannot spend my life worrying what others think of me.” Her voice trailed off and he wondered if she meant to reveal so much. “You don’t like to talk much, do you?” She moved her hands lower, skimming them along his shoulder blades with a feather light touch, and he grunted in response. “I remained silent for far too long. Now I can’t seem to stop talking.”

She’d leaned in close with her last words. He felt her breath against his ear. The warmth of her body, the lush fullness of her breasts as they brushed against his back. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes. He tried desperately to fight the impulse threatening to overtake him, especially if she wouldn’t move away.

His eyes flew open. It was no use. She still hovered over him and her hands wandered up to clutch his shoulders once again. Turning his head, he found himself staring into her eyes. So close he could see the blue depths threaded with green, a delicate pink flush coloring the apples of her cheeks. The damp sheen to her rosy lips, as if she’d just moistened them with her tongue.

He gave in to the impulse. She made it so easy, too easy. Leaning in, he brushed her mouth with his, keeping his eyes open so he could watch her reaction. She didn’t seem startled or repulsed, not at all. Her lids drifted closed, thick, dark lashes casting shadows upon her cheeks. She parted her lips easily beneath his, her mouth warm and tasting of the sweet wine she’d served at supper. He cupped the back of her head with his hand and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips. Her eager tongue met his, the kiss turning wild in an instant.

His cock strained against the front of his trousers. It had twitched and lengthened with every stroke of her fingers on his back and at the first touch of her lips upon his, it leaped to eager life.