Nothing But Scandal. Allegra GrayЧитать онлайн книгу.
whom, and how to interpret that as currency in the marriage mart?”
Elizabeth laughed. That was exactly what most conversations at a ball were like.
“You have a lovely smile. Although,” he mused, fingering the plain gray fabric of her gown, then lightly touching the hair she’d scraped into a tight bun, “I did prefer your appearance as a young lady of the ton.”
Elizabeth did not have time to be offended at the implied insult, for he continued in that thoughtful tone. “Odd, isn’t it, how in Society women strive to appear soft and inviting, when underneath they are hard and brittle? Yet you, as a warm-hearted governess, are expected to appear utterly proper, even drab.”
“I’m sure that is appropriate for a governess,” she replied primly, though his lingering touch on her hair sent little flutters throughout her body.
This was wrong. But she was powerless to stop him.
“Perhaps.” His hand covered hers again. “But it makes me wonder…what would happen if I pulled those pins from your hair? Would I have a woman before me who was soft and warm both inside and out?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” she whispered, as his hand came up to test his theory.
Common sense dictated she retreat, quickly, to the safety of her quarters. But the future spanned endlessly before her, devoid of passion. Was it so wrong to claim just one moment’s pleasure for herself?
She made no move to stop him as he slowly pulled one pin, then another and another from her hair. Piece by piece it fell, until the whole mass of it lay tumbled about her shoulders.
“Yes, here is the beauty I recall. Like a waterfall, set magically aflame.”
His tone turned husky and sent a shiver of anticipation up Elizabeth’s spine.
“Cold?”
He stroked her arm gently, and the heat of his hand warmed her to the very blood.
She gave him a sideways smile. “I believe you may have a bit of poet’s blood in you after all, Your Grace, for that was surely the most fanciful compliment I’ve ever been paid.”
Her smile vanished, all teasing forgotten, as he bent his head to hers. His lips met hers briefly before he pulled back. The dark, smoldering gaze she met when she raised her eyes took her breath away, just before he hauled her against him and crushed his lips to hers.
His mouth moved against hers with barely restrained passion, molding, tasting, testing. Elizabeth was drowning in sensation. He held her fast, one hand buried in the hair at the nape of her neck as he tipped her back to deepen the kiss.
His tongue gently parted her lips, then probed, dipping in to taste, to stroke, until a sharp need began to pulse low in her belly. She reached out, her hands gripping his firm shoulders, seeking an anchor in the storm of sensation. Somehow she was no longer sitting, but lying against the settee, with the delicious thrill of Alex’s weight above her. She returned his kiss as best she knew how.
When his hand moved to stroke her, moving up her bodice until it cupped her breast, she moaned low in her throat. Alex continued the pleasurable torment, teasing her through the fabric until her nipple hardened into a tight bud.
Only when he dipped into her bodice, and she felt the shock of his caress on her bare flesh, did Elizabeth remember any sense of propriety.
She jerked back, twisting from him until she landed in an unceremonious heap on the floor beside the settee. She stared at him, trying to catch her breath. The awkwardness of her position hastened the return of her senses. Luckily she was too mortified by her lack of propriety to be embarrassed by her lack of grace.
What had she just done?
Alex stared back, his eyes full of dark heat. Slowly he straightened and stood, formally offering a hand to assist her.
Mechanically, she took it and allowed him to haul her to her feet. She straightened her clothing, then began searching for her hairpins, all the while not saying a word to the man she’d just passionately kissed.
Even as she berated herself for her behavior, she already missed his touch on her skin. What must he think of her? Oh, Lord, she was a fool. Much as she might wish for the freedom the duke enjoyed, she did not have it. Dallying with the Duke of Beaufort would surely get her fired from her governess’s position. She snatched up her scattered pins and hastily jammed them into her hair.
Alex, who’d remained silent until now, gently stilled her hands. “Here, now. There’s no need to stab yourself. It can’t have been that bad a kiss.”
Alex may have been used to such casual dalliance, but Elizabeth was not, and she did not know how to respond to the light teasing in his tone. How could he be so nonchalant? Had the kiss not affected him as it did her? Perhaps not. After all, he was far more experienced. To her horror, tears welled in her eyes.
She turned away to hide them, but not before the duke noticed. He cupped her chin to turn her head back, then stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. Elizabeth closed her eyes and held very still, wanting more than anything to go to him, to let him fold her in his strong arms and comfort her. It made no sense, for he was the cause of her discomfort, but her emotions were too jumbled to care.
Finally she managed to whisper, “I should go.”
To her combined relief and disappointment, he stepped back. “As you wish. There’s more to you than I would have guessed. I find you very intriguing, Miss Medford.”
Elizabeth, desperate to recover some normalcy, reverted to their formal roles and dropped him a curtsy.
He regarded her with amusement, evident in the slight quirk of his full lips and the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He bowed.
“You may leave now, Elizabeth. But do not think for a moment I will not seek you out again.”
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