Monday, June 27, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Chapter 2 (cont.)
He grinned. “Well, to begin with, I don’t think you should glare at me all the time. Do you suppose you might be able to manage that?”
“I might.” Her eyes focused on his lips. Her brain told her that was a stupid thing to do, but her eyes refused to listen.
His lips had felt so good.
“That’s it. You are doing an excellent job of not glaring at me now.” His voice had dropped. His arms came around her. They felt good, too.
“Hmm.” His lips were now so close and coming closer. He brushed them over her mouth, but it was not enough. She must have whimpered slightly, because he came back.
He didn’t mash her lips against her teeth. He didn’t try to force his tongue down her throat. He didn’t haul her body up against his so tightly she couldn’t breathe. He didn’t do any of the things Brentwood had done.
He held her firmly, yet gently, and slowly, leisurely, explored her mouth, filling her with a dark, liquid heat that pooled between her legs.
She knew what happened between a man and a woman. It was embarrassing and painful...but that was not what many of the married women said. No, they smiled and giggled and blushed when they talked about their marital duties.
Perhaps the act was different with different men like kissing appeared to be.
Her body insisted everything would be different, better, with Mr. Parker-Roth.
“Anne,” he said, his voice slightly breathless, “there’s no one here to fool. You’re supposed to be pushing me away and giving me that evil look of yours.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re supposed to be lashing at me with your sharp tongue, telling me to stop.”
He kissed her again, his hands bringing her closer, up against the hard ridge of his erection.
Nerves fluttered through her. Brentwood had done a similar thing...
But his hands had been rough. She’d felt trapped.
She didn’t feel trapped now. She felt welcomed.
The King of Hearts had earned his title; there was no question about that.
He urged her toward one of the couches, but it was too low. She lost her balance and tumbled against him, ending in a tangle of skirts and legs as the carefully closed, but unfortunately unlocked, door flew open and Harry bounded in.
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Thursday, June 2, 2011
Chapter 2 (cont.)
“I won’t hurt you.” Mr. Parker-Roth actually looked worried. “I thought you knew that.”
He shook his head and winced. “Not any longer--or at least not enough to mask my other aches and pains.” He looked at her intently. “But even drunk I’d never force myself on a woman.”
He wouldn’t have to. Women would force themselves on him.
She dropped the pillow back on the couch, feeling a little ridiculous. “About this sham betrothal?”
He studied her for another minute and then shrugged, running his hand through his hair. “I do think it’s the only way to save your reputation and salvage your sister’s Season.”
She had a very uncomfortable feeling he might be correct. She didn’t care about her reputation--she didn’t have one to salvage--but she’d fight tooth and nail to protect Evie’s chance to enjoy a London Season and perhaps find a suitable husband. “If Lady Dunlee would keep the story to herself, we might be able to get by.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, and if I had wings, I might be able to fly across the Thames.”
“But I am sure Lady Dunlee and Melinda Fallwell are setting out this very moment to share the tale--in strictest confidence of course--with ten or twenty of their closest friends. It will be all over London by nightfall.”
“Yes. You don’t have to be familiar with London to know how gossips operate. There are plenty of those in the country.”
“Oh, yes, I know.” Though somehow the story of her downfall had never spread, probably because only she and Brentwood knew about it. She was not about to say anything, and Brentwood likely had forgotten it the moment he’d pulled her dress back down. From what she’d heard later, she was only one of his many conquests.
Damn. They had only arrived in London yesterday. How could she have made micefeet of everything so quickly?
“Hey.” He touched her shoulder. “Don’t look so glum. We’ll muddle through.”
She tried to smile.
He cupped her cheek. “It would be easier to pass the story off if we seem to like each other, you know. Given the rather passionate display Lady Dunlee witnessed, we might even wish to appear somewhat ardent. Restrained, of course, but just barely--giving the impression that the moment society looks the other way, we’ll be in each other’s arms.”
“How are we to do that?”
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Chapter 2 (cont.)
She had a bad feeling about this. “Everything was here when we arrived.” She snatched the statue out of his hands and looked at it. There was a man and three women and they were--
“Dear God!” She stuffed it behind one of the couches. As soon as she got rid of Mr. Parker-Roth, she would examine all the knickknacks and pack away the inappropriate ones before the twins found them. This looked like just the sort of room ten-year-old boys would love. “Apparently collecting erotic--I mean exotic--items runs in my father’s family.”
“Apparently.” The annoying man had found another inappropriate sculpture on the mantel.
“Will you put that down?”
“I don’t know. It’s rather...stimulating, don’t you think?” Mr. Parker-Roth sent her a heated look. His thumb was rubbing slowly over the brass woman’s extremely prominent breasts.
“No, of course not.” If he wanted prominent breasts, he would have to look elsewhere.
And why was she thinking of breasts at all? How shocking.
Her body wasn’t shocked. Her little breasts felt oddly sensitive, almost achy, as if they’d like Mr. Parker-Roth to touch them as he was touching the statue. “Didn’t you drag me in here to discuss our b-betrothal?”
He put the statue back on the mantle and smiled. “Yes, I did.” His voice sounded like sin as he came toward her. He looked like sin.
He’s the King of Hearts, you ninnyhammer. Seduction is his middle name.
She looked for a sturdy settee to dodge behind, but the damn room had nothing so conventional. She grabbed a fat pillow instead and held it in front of her like a shield.
He stopped a good two feet from her and frowned. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you, Anne?”
“Of course not.” God help her! His look of concern made him even more alluring.
She wasn’t afraid of him; she was afraid of herself.
What was the matter with her? Had she forgotten the last time she’d let her body rule her head? Ten years ago, she’d gone with Lord Brentwood into Baron Gedding’s garden and come back without her virginity. She would not be so stupid as to make that mistake again.
Well, she couldn’t, could she? Virginity once lost was gone forever.