Page 47 of In Scandal with the Duke
James waited a few days and then invited her to a literary salon. She daringly attended dressed in her gentlemen’s attire, amused when some stared longer than proper, trying to ascertain just who this creature with the duke was. It was an evening filled with poetry readings and philosophical debates, and Elizabeth did not suppress wit and sharp intellect, laughing and chatting for the night.
Each day brought a new adventure, a new memory, and with each passing moment, James’s resolve to keep their relationship light and unattached cracked, as something inexplicable slammed at it over and over.
“Are you aware that you have been staring into your drink for the last few minutes?” Oliver drawled, walking to stand beside James. “What mystery lies in this glass of whisky?”
James tipped the glass to his mouth and emptied it. “I am thinking.”
“I know it,” the marquess drawled. “I have never seen you like this, my friend, and I am wondering if we should be worried.”
James lifted a brow. “Worried about what?”
“Tonight is the first we have seen you at Aphrodite in almost three weeks.”
“This is not cause for any sort of concern. You and Radbourne are acting like wives and—” His words broke off sharply at the sight of the lady who strolled into the main ballroom of the pleasure palace.
Oliver followed his line of sight and whistled. “Is she one of Madam Rebecca’s new courtesans?”
James froze.Elizabeth. He would know the curve of her lips, the jut of her chin, her sensual walk, and that smile anywhere. Her figure was elegantly clad in a red ball gown featuring a daringly low neckline that clung to her body before cascading down to her ankles in shimmering waves. The gown emphasized her slender waist and full curves beautifully. She wore a dark gold domino mask adorned with black feathers, which concealed the upper part of her face, adding a touch of mystery. Her dark hair tumbled in glorious waves down to her lower back.
Several men stared at her, the covetousness in their stare. She seemed oblivious to this, looking about, her eyes wide behind that mask. Elizabeth strolled toward an area that held several chaise longues. She pressed a hand over her heart, her lips parted in shock and perhaps a bit of wonder. Tonight, the interior of Aphrodite was dimly lit and bedecked with oriental drapes and lush carpeting. Ladies wore jewel-studded masks on their faces and their gowns had plunging necklines with sheer materials that revealed much of their legs and bodies. Elizabeth spun in a circle, seemingly trying to take in everything at once. Couples danced the waltz far too intimately, some salaciously embracing and kissing against the wall, and another lady in a black-and-blue mask reposed on a chaise, with a man clearly riding between her thighs.
“You know her,” Oliver said. “Now, this is interesting. Is it—”
“Do not say it,” James warned, ignoring his smirking friend. He strolled past the marquess, going down the winding staircase, never taking his eyes off his lover lest she vanished in the crowd.
Why are you here, Elizabeth?James silently asked, his damn heart pounding as he approached her.
As if his lover felt him, she glanced over her shoulder, and even in the dimness, he saw the spark of delight in her blue eyes. That lush mouth curved in a daring smile, and she walked away, at times stopping before couples to watch their congress.
She stopped before Viscount Hardwick and his lover for the night. Hardwick glanced up at her, a carnal smirk touching his mouth before attending to his lover, fucking deep into her throat. Several people had gathered around them watching, and James went up behind Elizabeth. She leaned against him, her chest lifting with her ragged and very aroused breathing.
“I recognize her,” Elizabeth whispered. “That … she is his viscountess. Why …”
“Why are they here and not at their home?”
She nodded, shifting a bit closer to observe their play.
“Some like to watch; some like to be watched.”
“Oh,” she said, letting out a sigh echoing with such longing his gut tightened.
“Why are you here?” James growled against her ear, slipping a hand around her waist to hold her to him.
“I was at my brother’s home yesterday … and I overheard a conversation where a few wondered when you would visit here again.”
James stilled. “So you decided to come here?”
His lover turned in the cage of his arm, lifted a leg to hook it at his waist, slipped her hands over his shoulders and damn well climbed his body to wrap her legs around his hips. She shocked James by slipping a gloved finger under his chin and jerking it up.
“My brother wondered if you would be fucking one or two of the new ladies,” she drawled, something hot and provoking in her eyes. “Your cock belongs to only me while we are lovers.”
James’s cock got so hard and so quickly his head felt light. He’d never had a lover act so blatantly possessive of him or one who met his stare with such carnal confidence.
She leaned forward ever so slightly and nipped the corner of his mouth.
“Is that why you are here, my duke?”
“No.”
