Page 82 of The Good Duke
Which was saying something, given all the women he’d courted in his youth.
“All of that is fair. We are friends. What Ishouldhave said instead is that you needn’t worry I was hiding from you—”
“I didn’t use the word hiding, Persephone. You just did.”
She continued without missing a beat. “After I left—”
“You ran.”
“I didn’t give our embrace another thought.”
With Persephone standing primly in the entryway, as stoic as an abbess at a priory, had Simon not felt her coming undone in his arms just yesterday, he’d have believed her to be unaffected by him.
For her desire wasn’t one that could be feigned. The wild thrusts of her hips against his straining cock had been proof enough of that.
Even just the memory of her frenzied movements sent blood rushing to that randy organ.
With deliberate care, Simon positioned himself behind the fortunately placed globe near the corner of his desk.
The hell he’d allow her to see the effect she was having onhim. Not when she masked her own thoughts as well as the Theatre Royal’s finest actress.
Simon carefully removed his spectacles, and with those wire-rimmed frames in hand, he motioned her over. After all, with his shaft jutting against the front of his trousers, he was hardly in a position to approachher.
Despite his silent summons, Persephone remained rooted to her spot nearest the exit.
I should know better than to ever bid her to do anything.
Very well. He’d play along with whatever contest she’d thought up this day for him.
Simon tossed his glasses down, and the forgotten pair hit next to the globe with a littleplink.
“I trust you’ve sought me out this morning to continue where we’d left off at our last meeting, Persephone.” He wrapped her name in a husky purr.
She dissolved into a strangled paroxysm.
Simon kept his features deadpan. “I’d be all too happy to resume—”
“Noo.” Her voice climbed on a high squeak.
“Our conversation from yes—” Simon blinked slowly. “Oh, forgive me.” With the degree he found himself enjoying this, he was certain to land himself a place in hell. “You didnotwish to speak to me about the reason for your visit yesterday, before we became…distracted?”
And hell, if he didn’t manage the impossible—he’d silenced Persephone Forsyth.
Simon dropped a hip along the edge of his desk, presenting her with his side profile.
At her continued speechlessness, he quirked an eyebrow. “That is, unless the only reason you sought me out yesterdaywasfor that mind-blowing embrace—”
“It was not mind-blowing,Simon.” His name emerged as a whispery hiss. She took a quick glance about as if verifying they were still alone. “It was…very much a brief,humdrumexchange.”
A brief, humdrum exchange?
He’d allow the first kiss they’d shared as children, years ago, had been transformative for Simon but sloppy and quick for Persephone. In the interim, however, Simon had becomequiteadept in the art of lovemaking.
It’s how he knew theirexchange, as she referred to it, yesterday had left Persephone wet and aching. Simon hadn’t even needed to reach a hand between her legs and feel that warmth for himself to know it.
It was one thing for her to play games.
It was an altogether different thing for her to act as though she’d not melted in his arms.
