Page 55 of Fortune Favors the Viscount
He closed his eyes, even though it was pitch dark. He could see it all in his mind—how to hold the nape of her neck, how to angle his body so she fit perfectly against him, how to pull her closer and ravish her with kisses and make her quake with pleasure as he satisfied both of them.
His mouth went dry. Would her hands slide up around his neck? Would she cling to him? Kiss him back? Her longing gaze when they danced indicated she’d thought of all that...
Nick had not grown up in the ordered ways of the gentry. The women he’d known as a younger man hadn’t been offended by direct inquiry, and the women who drifted up to him nowmadethe direct inquiries. Perhaps that would change, with a viscounty, but... perhaps not. He’d seen for himself how titles disordered people’s minds. Either way, he had no idea how to confront this thoroughly inappropriate desire for his new governess.
“Mr. Dashwood,” she said breathlessly, “what—?”
“Shh.” He squeezed her tighter and ducked his head. There was nothing but a velvet drape behind them; Nick could still hear the voices of the new arrivals, nattering at Frank. “Did you see who just arrived?” he breathed by her ear.
She shook her head, wisps of her hair brushing across his mouth. They were silky soft, and he finally identified the scent of her: honeysuckle. “Who?”
“Fitchley and his mates, including Parker-Lloyd.”
She recoiled, turning her head as if to face him. Her cheek touched his, and then her mouth.
It was an accident. Nick was trying valiantly to cling to the shreds of whatever honor he had. When her lips brushed his, he froze—waiting, wanting, wishing—
She didn’t retreat. Softly, tentatively, her mouth soft and light, she touched her lips to his again, and that was both enough and not nearly enough. Nick turned his head and something inside him growled in triumph as his lips covered hers. She inhaled, and her hand gripped his shoulder.
Not to repel, but to hold.
He gathered her to him and kissed her like a dying man striving for air. Her hands moved to his arms, clinging. He raised his free hand to cup her head and knocked her bonnet off. She moved against him, making a soft gasp of desire, and Nick’s good intentions fled for good.
He licked the seam of her lips and she opened for him, moaning again as he tasted her. She pushed up on her toes, digging her fingers into his shoulders and gripping hard. His nerves lit up, crackling with desire and making him exquisitely aware of every little sound and movement she made as she kissed him back, just as hungrily and urgently as he devoured her.
He took a step, pressing her hard into the wall. Cards spilled around them, dice rattling out of trays to the carpet below. His hands were on her waist, lifting her and holding her with his weight. Her hands were in his hair, her voice in his ear, gasping “oh” over and over as he made love to her throat, as he shoved aside her cloak and licked the swell of her breast above her bodice. She bit his earlobe as Nick sucked lightly at the side of her neck, right below her ear. Her knees parted and he pushed his hips forward, against hers, and without thought his hand slid down her thigh, feeling for the hem of her dress.
And then he stopped, breathing like a racehorse after Epsom.Bloody hell,he though dazedly. With hands that trembled, he held her close for another moment, and then gingerly let her back down onto her feet. Sense seemed to return to her then, as she made a quiet sound of dismay and recoiled.
Only a few inches, because there wasn’t room for more. But she retreated.
“I didn’t mean,” he began at the same moment she whispered, “I am so sorry—”
Silence reigned.
Nick cleared his throat. Outside it was quiet; Fitchley and his lot must have gone into the salon. Frank would be hanging up their coats before returning to his post. “It should be safe now,” he said quietly. “To go out.”
“Oh,” she murmured. “Good. I—I ought to go.”
He nodded—inane, given the darkness. “They didn’t see you. They couldn’t have.” They had been facing Frank in the well-lit entry, and Emilia had been behind him in the dim corridor.
“Good,” she said again. “I don’t want to see them.”
He breathed in—sweet, wild honeysuckle—and exhaled, willing his pulse to calm. His cock strained at the front of his trousers, and the mad, reckless part of his brain was still exploring the ways he could make love to her in this alcove.
“You’re safe,” he said again. Another deliberate breath in and out. “I would never...”
“Yes,” she said when he fell silent. Her voice was higher than usual. “I would never... Andwewould never... It was a moment’s madness. Understandable. A lapse. Neither of us to blame.” She was also breathing hard and trying to hide it. “Nothing we need to speak of, later. Ever.”
Nick was still thinking about the wordunderstandable. “A lapse,” he echoed. “Madness.”
They stood in silence another moment, then Nick nodded curtly. “Right.” He pulled back the drape.
She looked so beautifully mussed, he almost closed it again. Her eyes were dark, the blue almost eclipsed. Her hair was falling down, her bonnet was on the floor, and her bodice was askew, showing that delicate little ruffle again. He’d pulled it aside, when he put his mouth right there on her breast, which was still rosy from the rasp of his beard and the pull of his mouth. She tasted warm and rich, like fresh cream—
He turned on his heel and strode into the entry. Frank was leaning on his stool, talking with Forbes, but leapt to attention at Nick’s approach. “Find James,” he ordered. “Now.”
Frank bolted toward the dining room.
