Page 6 of A Flurry for a Duke

So his teeth had sunk into her neck. Her soft, creamy, hitherto unkissed throat.

Thank God and all the angels above that he had had the presence of mind not to leave a mark. Or maybe he had to thank the primal groan that had ripped out of her.

Yes, he thanked that groan with his own animalistic murmur, and then he did what he should have done first. He took her mouth with his.

He didn’t think anymore. Not that he could really consider anything in the last few minutes thinking. He felt. He acted. Pulled. Pushed. Prompted.

Pulled her closer. If that was possible. Pushed her legs apart with his thigh. Prompted her to open for him. Open her lips. Open her legs. Open—

What the bloody hell was he thinking? This was Hope, for God’s sake.

If the cats were away, the mouse did play. But he wasn’t supposed to be one of the mice, or more aptly labeled, rat. He was supposed to be the stand-in cat.

He yanked his mouth from hers. Her eyelids fluttered open. That would not do. Quickly, he covered her eyes with his hands. She was still an innocent. He would do what he could to protect her. What she didn’t see, she couldn’t remember. He stole a slow look down. It couldn’t have been helped. An inward groan roared within him.

Perfection.

Shapely breasts with perky nipples straining toward him. Curved hips waiting for his hand to grip them. Legs extending to trim ankles. And how could he have missed her sweet knees, bent toward him in weakness.

Ack! He was the worst hypocrite. Taking his fill and not permitting her to do the same.

But he knew he could move past this. He had seen plenty of women naked. She, on the other hand, had probably not even seen herself fully naked. Few women he knew had ever taken time to explore their bodies.

His cock throbbed. He had to remove her from himself, not delve into thoughts of her exploring herself.

One hand still on her eyes, he turned her around with his free hand, and then, like a fool, plastered that freedom over his own eyes. The blind leading the blind.

“Put your clothes on, Hope.”

She mumbled a few words, but he couldn’t make out a thing she said. Apparently his hand over his eyes rendered him deaf. Or maybe it was the crowded thoughts stomping through his brain demanding attention. Or maybe it was the sensory assault lingering loudly all over his body. His chest could still feel her breasts pressed into him. His tongue could taste her. Sweet tea. And his hands…they were the worst culprits. They had grabbed a handful of her luscious bottom, and now they were fidgety. Opening and closing of their own volition. Wanting more. Wishing they had done more.

Thankfully she didn’t protest, and she moved away from him. Then, like a bigger fool than even moments ago, he used both of his hands like blinders and stared at the floor as he made his way back into the inner room to pretend that what had happened wasn’t somehow still stuck to him.

After he closed the door, he leaned back into it and sighed in relief. He ignored the tremble in the legs that were designated to support him. And that jitter in his hands was all but obsolete as he dove them into his hair and grabbed onto his own locks. With a quick tug, his scalp prickled. Then, he listened to her movements to be sure she had quit the room.

As he dressed, he told himself to pretend as though nothing had happened. It was just a kiss. Men and women kissed all the time. It was part of life. It was perfectly normal. That was the most addle-brained thought he had ever had. And that included the time when he was eight and had tried to convince Felix he could fly if he stuck enough feathers onto his arms.

The whole pretend-it-never-happened thing lasted about twelve minutes, and then he knew he needed to confront her. He was a man. He had to take courage and fix this. Besides, they were friends. They would just laugh it off. No one saw. If he didn’t confront her, she would be awkward around him. He just knew it. And then suspicions might be aroused. With the Matchmaking Maven hovering around, he couldn’t risk it. He had to see her.

All it would take was an abrupt apology and a chuck under the chin. Of course, he would also give her a peck on the cheek to seal the deal. And she would wrap her arms around him in a friendly embrace. Naked.

Forget the hug. And while he was thinking clearly, forget the peck. No pecking. No sealing. No deal. Just an apology. Maybe no chucked chin either. Perhaps no touching for a few hours was best.

Yes. The plan was perfect. And it was perfectly thrumming through his entire body.

Quickly, he threw on a shirt and trousers. Then he popped his head out into the hallway. Confirming it was empty, he snuck down the corridor and crept into her room.

Chapter 5

HOPEFLOATEDINAbubble all the way back to her room. It was large, soft, and transparent. Almost a place where she could be alone with her thoughts, if she had any. Her mind was in a fog, and her eyes weren’t seeing what was right in front of her. It was her room that she entered. That she was sure of, for the voice of her lady’s maid anchored her into the present.

“My lady, are you all right?”

“Hmmm? Oh yes…I’m…”

Marlene studied her expectantly. Waiting. Something was hanging in the air, but Hope (for the life of her) couldn’t figure out what it was. How had she landed in Isaac’s room to clean up? It was all a blur. A very coincidental blur…perhaps too coincidental. It was a tail of a thought, but something about her mother trickled through her mind. She couldn’t be that good of a meddler, could she? Or rather, that naughty of one? But then the tail of the thought was gone. In and out of her bubble like a flash.

Her eyes unblurred, and she noticed a letter hanging from Marlene’s fingers.

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