Page 33 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
Impudent chit. Now he’d have to read one of Minerva’s blasted books to find out what the devil she’d been writing about him.
Meanwhile, his cock was as hard as the tiles beneath his feet, with no hope of relief anytime soon. He had to pretend to be the doting fiancé until Gran gave in, and Gran was already suspicious of the scheme. She would never take itseriously if he rode off to London to visit the stews whenever the fetching Maria aroused him. So he was stuck.
Unless I seduce Maria.
His blood roared in his veins anew. It would serve the chit right if he did.Shewas the one who’d asked him to kiss her again.Shewas the one who’d opened her warm, tender mouth beneath his and made him burn and yearn.
He stiffened. Burn, yes. But yearn? He yearned for no woman. They were only playmates to while away the time until . . .
Until what?
In a flash, the future stretched before him. Years of drinking himself into oblivion to get through the nights. Years of keeping women in his bed and out of his life so they wouldn’t muck around in his thoughts as women were wont to do.
What choice did he have? He wasn’t well suited to marriage, and any woman with an ounce of sense would know it. He was a ne’er-do-well and a bounder.
You’re behaving exactly like your father . . .
Except that Father wouldn’t have balked at a flirtation with the likes of Maria Butterfield. Shortly after he’d secured the family estate with Mother’s money, he’d returned to living like a bachelor, and none too discreetly.
It had humiliated Mother. Oliver had watched as she became more brittle, more jealous, more hurt with each instance of infidelity, until at the last they’d lived in two armed camps, their children stuck squarely between them.
Picking up the goblet, Oliver stared grimly into hisreflection in its golden surface.Thatwas the one difference between him and Father—having felt the effects of such an arrangement as a child, he wasn’t keen to inflict them on anyone else. As far as he was concerned, marriage and children meant fidelity.
And since he had his father’s appetites, he refused to bring some woman into his life. Not for Gran or anyone, and certainly not to secure the family dynasty and Halstead Hall. That’s what Father should have done. At least he wouldn’t have ruined Mother’s life and the lives of his children.
So Gran was mad if she thought Oliver would follow in his father’s footsteps in that respect. He wasnotgoing to marry some innocent chit just to please Gran. Which meant he’d best not think of seducing Miss Butterfield. If anything would shatter his plans to remain a bachelor, that would.
Especially since she had this uncanny and very dangerous ability to see beneath his defenses.There you go again. Making a joke to avoid talking about what makes you uncomfortable.Not even his friends had guessed that his outrageous remarks and flirtations were meant to hide how much he envied their easy contentment.
That must be why Maria tempted him so. She teased him with the promise of happiness. No matter how much he told himself it was elusive, that if she knew the truth about him she would shun him, he still buzzed after her like a bee to nectar. Her combination of innocence and curiosity, of determination and vulnerability, utterly bewitched him.
Then there was the fact that she’d turned down Gran’s money. What woman did that? She’d had the chance to thumb her nose at him and walk out, but she hadn’t. Instead, she’d let him kiss her.
He sucked in a ragged breath. Kissing her had been like tasting a forbidden fruit—the respectable woman. It had proved more intoxicating than any kiss he’d shared with a more experienced woman. Especially after she’d asked him to show her how. He’d not expected to find so much satisfaction in teaching her.
Imagine what it would be like to teach her other pleasures, other caresses. He could do that without being caught in any snare, couldn’t he? He needn’t seduce her to take advantage of her wish to “practice.” Pleasuring women was his forte, after all. And the thought of watching her in the throes of passion, her body quivering with need, her sweet mouth begging him for more, made something tighten in his chest. He wanted to be the one to give her what she craved, the one to watch those blue eyes darken with desire as she found release in his arms, to hear her say his name in that throaty voice . . .
With a groan, he forced the thought of it from his mind. It was madness to consider it. He still didn’t even know if she would stay beyond tonight. And if she did, he’d be a fool to risk scaring her off.
No, he’d better forget their kiss had ever happened. And he wasn’t going to do that if he lingered out here, where it had taken place.
Determinedly he strode for the door. It was long pasttime he should rejoin the others, anyway. God only knows what Maria, or worse yet, Freddy, was telling them in there.
But when he entered the dining room, he found it empty except for Minerva, who seemed to be waiting for him.
He stopped short. “Where is everyone?”
“Jarret and Gabe went to the card room to have cigars and port. Gran went to bed. Miss Butterfield said she was tired, too, and insisted that her cousin retire as well, so Celia took them up to their rooms.”
The quick stab of disappointment in his chest made him scowl. He was behaving like a fool. “Well, then. I suppose I’ll join the other chaps.”
As he headed for the door, Minerva rose. “Oliver, wait.”
“Yes?”
She came toward him, a frown darkening her brow. “What do you intend to do with Miss Butterfield?”
Strip her bare and kiss every inch of that lush, delectable body.
