Page 14 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
“I’m not going to have you wandering the streets searching for a cab this time of night, and I’m too indolent to go searching with you.”
“My anonymity will be compromised.”
“I’ll have my driver swear an oath not to tell me where he took you.” He approached her. “I may be a rogue, but I respect the purpose of this place. Your secrets are safe with me.”
It was probably foolish, but she believed him. “What about your camera equipment?”
“I’ll return for it after I’ve seen you safely delivered from here.”
She strolled to the door, very much aware of his footsteps echoing behind her. She turned the key in the lock, wrapped her hand around the knob, stared at the dark wood—
“I don’t suppose you would at least kiss me?” She despised that she’d been reduced to pleading but to leave with nothing at all after all the planning, preparation, and risk seemed doubly unfair.
“Have you never been kissed?”
Mortification swamped her, but it was easier knowing that he had no idea who she was or how old or how unappealing. “Never.”
She was aware of him moving nearer, the heat of his body radiating from him, enveloping her. Swallowing hard, she was on the verge of turning around when his mouth came to rest at the nape of her neck. She barely recalled that she’d wanted his lips on hers, as she became aware of dewy moisture gathering in a small circle on her skin, warmth seeping into her muscles and bones, traveling slowly yet ever so intensely through her, a delicious shiver passing in its wake. If he could create such sensations with only his mouth—
What a fool she was to have changed her mind. How ridiculous she would appear if she changed it once again. But even if she did alter her course, he wouldn’t be the one to satisfy the cravings he was stirring to life. She was still a virgin, not at all his preference.
His hand came around, his fingers brushing over her chin but settling in to turn her face back slightly, then his mouth blanketed hers with unerring accuracy. His other hand cradled the back of her head while his tongue outlined her lips, before urging them to part. He took the kiss deep, so deep, exploring her mouth as she imagined he’d explored a good deal of the world, slowly, thoroughly, giving his undivided attention to every minute detail. He savored. He worshipped.
His guttural groan echoed between them, and she felt it rumbling through his chest, pressed against her back. Moaning, she was astounded by the intimacy of this prelude to something far more primitive. This man took; he gave no quarter. In bed, he would have conquered her, and yet she could not help but believe that she would have come away the conqueror.
She almost wept with longing when he drew back and lightly stroked his thumb over her tingling, swollen, and damp lips. Too many shadows prevented her from reading his eyes, his expression.
“You make me regret that I have an aversion to virgins,” he said, his voice a low thrum that skittered through her.
“You make me regret that I turned cowardly.”
“Not cowardly. You ensured you don’t awaken in the morning with misgivings.”
She questioned if it were possible for a woman to awaken with anything other than triumph after being with him. Reaching past her, he opened the door. “Let’s get a move on, shall we, before we both change our minds?”
She wasn’t convinced that would be such a bad thing. He escorted her to the changing room. When a maid finished helping her dress, Minerva found him waiting in the hallway, his back to the wall, his gaze distant, and she wondered where his thoughts had taken him. Still wearing her mask, she was grateful that he would never know the identity of the woman who had made a fool of herself this evening.
Offering his arm, he led her out to the street where carriages were lined up. They reached the coach bearing his ducal crest. A footman and a driver were standing near the horses. They both came to attention.
“Wilkins, you’ll be taking the lady home. She’s going to give you her address. Should either of you gentlemen ever tell me or anyone where you delivered her, I shall cut out your tongue.” With an ironic twist of his lips, he looked at Minerva. “Sufficient to guard your identity?”
Even knowing it was no doubt an idle threat, and he’d simply sack the man, she said, “Yes, thank you.” She whispered her address to the driver. The footman opened the door. Ashebury handed her up.
“Good night, my lady.”
She paused in settling onto the seat. “How do you know I’m a lady?” Although she wasn’t one who should be addressed as such. Her mother was the daughter of a duke, but her father was a commoner.
“The way you hold yourself, the way you move, the way you speak. And the fact that you came here, hoping for something more than a common tupping. I hope at some point you find what you’re searching for.”
Strange how she was no longer certain that she knew precisely what it was. “I hope you get your photograph. I suppose you’ll go inside and find a willing lady.”
Slowly he shook his head. “No. You were what I wanted tonight. I never settle for substitutes.”
He slammed the door shut. With a jerk, the coach took off. Minerva removed her mask, set it on her lap, and leaned back into the plush padding of the carriage.
You were what I wanted tonight.
She wondered if he would have said the same if he’d known who she was.
