Page 6 of Good Duke Gone Far

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

Kat laughed. “No doubt you forgot to add, ‘Young Lady’ at the end of your question.”

A small, pale hand reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “Dear man, please. What? You thought to ride up here and rescue me? As if I need saving.”

Quinn eyed the carriage and the sitting duck inside. “If you don’t need saving, you can call me Jack.”

“Lovely, Jack. I’ve always wondered at your Christian name. We all grew so fond of calling you the Colonel that it was never impressed upon me to dig deeper.”

Oh, she was playing it sweet. That smile. That glimmer in her eye. That innocent tone. He knew what she was about, but he would give her another shot to come quietly.

“If you don’t need saving, then what do you need?”

“Well, Jack, as it so happens, I was just planning my next steps to get to Scotland. Thank you for asking. But as you can see, I’m quite busy. Safe travels to you.”

And faster than the wings of a hummingbird, she pulled the door shut. And she must have been holding it closed on her end, for when Quinn attempted to open it, the door barely fluttered open an inch and then closed again.

“Kat!”

“Jack!”

“Kat! I’m coming in there.” And that was the last warning he would give her. There were no more games to be played. No more chances to be given. It was about to get dark, and they only had a few hours of travel to make it back to Goodgreen Hall.

“Back away from the door. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Quinn waited a second and heard a scuffle inside. With that he swung open the door, lept inside, and slammed the door shut behind him.

What he expected to see inside, he had no idea. What greeted him was Kat leaning back on one arm with heavy breaths. Her breasts threatening to break the seems barely holding them in that draped fabric she called a dress. And in her hand, a small dagger.

“Good God, woman. What is that?”

“You of all people should know.”

“What the blazes are you hoping to do with it?”

“Whatever I need to.”

“Are you insane? Not like that. You won’t be able to do anything.” Without thinking of where his next moves would take him, Quinn reached out, disarmed her, pulled her body into his and swiveled her around so that her back was flush with his front. The knife lay forgotten on the floor.

And that was a poor decision on his part. A very poor decision indeed.

The currents of blood rushing to his groin almost caused him to buckle at the knees, or buck into her backside.

He could not hide the stiffening that she was sure to feel against her sweet bottom, even through the multiple layers she wore.

One of his hands was lashed around her waist, and the other held her wrist up behind her head. The position caused her breasts to jut out in front of her and the swell of them was unlike any wave he had ever ridden.

Her body trembled against him, but he couldn’t be sure if it quivered in fear or anticipation.

“See? You’re helpless.” The words had been meant as a threat, but they came out hoarse.

“Am I?” the whisper shot to his groin, and he pulled her closer.

“Completely.” Did the word make any sense? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t think straight.

“I–I don’t know.” With little effort, she tugged her wrist from his grasp and slid it down her neck. Down her shoulder. And then down her breast.

Holy God, he watched her fingers graze her nipple as she slowly arched herself further into him. She should be an innocent. He thought she was, but the way she was breathing and moving and touching herself made him rethink.

And as he was trying to engage in that very instinctual activity of rethinking, she had turned her body to be facing him. Those pink flamingo lips were an inch from his.

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