Page 40 of His Forbidden Duchess
Lady Arabella.
Felix frowned. The woman sounded almost pleased—a strange reaction when one’s reputation was about to be left in tatters.
Except… now he will have no choice but to propose.
He smirked again. The manipulations of women knew no bounds. He looked back at Eloise. Is that what she had been planning? To be caught and ‘forced’ into marriage?
Her eyes roved over his face as if searching for something, but he kept steady, peering into the depths of her icy blue eyes.
“It… er… this is not what it seems,” Lord Mortcombe said, forever the bumbling idiot.
Felix raised an eyebrow to Eloise, and she sagged. They both knew what this meant.
She had lost their bet.
He could feel her breathing heavily, her breasts pushing into him and then retreating, an unsteady rhythm that set his own heart beating.
He leaned in closer, pressing his hand more firmly against her face. Their noses touched as his face brushed past hers, their cheeks coming together.
“We must stay quiet,” he whispered into her ear.
As he pulled away, he allowed her earlobe to catch on his teeth. She moaned softly beneath his hand, her body weakening at the knees.
He looked at her again and winked. He knew exactly how to satisfy her.
“What is happening?” Another voice still.
“Lord Mortcombe and Lady Arabella have been caught in a rather… compromising situation,” the first voice replied with glee.
“No, no,” Mortcombe said quickly. “Not compromising at all. I was merely showing Lady Arabella the stars tonight. Is that such a crime?”
“And on the balcony, too,” the second voice interrupted. “Can you believe the gall?”
More voices appeared, the air rippling with giggles and gasps, some horrified, some delighted, and all the while Felix could feel his thigh rubbing against Eloise’s. He shifted his weight, allowing the tension in his trousers to brush against her leg.
Her eyes widened again, and Felix pursed his lips to stop himself from chuckling at her reaction.
She wanted him. It was obvious in her every movement.
And I want her.
“Such beautiful stars tonight, are they not, My Lady? Remember? I showed you the constellations.”
“Hmmm… no,” Lady Arabella said. “No, I do not rememberthat.”
“It is quite obvious what you were doing, My Lord,” another voice said, this time with a terse tone of reprimand rather than relish. “And I am quite horrified that you should choose to do so in my home! If you really must be so debauched, then take your needs to the gaming hells.”
Lord Peabody, their host.
Eloise’s body twisted beneath Felix’s, her hips pressing against his as if they were searching for something. The pressure in his trousers tightened further, and he sucked in his breath.
“Oh, it is not debauched,” Lady Arabella said from the corridor.
She had a sweet note to her voice, one of gentle persuasion. So unlike the Arabella that Felix knew her truly to be.
“No?”
Felix turned his face to the wall. If he looked at Eloise, he could not concentrate on the conversation, and he could not risk them also being discovered.
