Page 69 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
Lightly he touched her cheek. “You’re turning my words against me.”
“I simply understand them better now.” She glanced back, returned her gaze to his. “My mother will be returning at any moment now.”
“Then we should return to the matter at hand,” he conceded without rancor. “Did you like the photographs?”
She smiled softly. “I did, yes. They were extraordinary. Especially the one with the woman. I quite agree that we’re all prudes if we focus on what she isn’t wearing rather than on what she is: pride, elegance, and grace.”
“I thought you would appreciate what I had hoped to capture. She reminds me very much of you.”
At the compliment, heat warmed her face. “You have quite the imagination,” she said.
“If you can convince your brother to allow me to use the bridge in his garden as a setting, I can showyou.”
“I’m flattered, but I seldom pose for photos or paintings. I never like the way they turn out.”
“You’ll like mine.”
She laughed. “I don’t know if you’re confident or arrogant.”
He leaned in a little more until his breath was skimming over her cheek. “You know what I can do in the dark. Let me show you what I can do in the light.”
She was struck with the image of him laying her out across the bridge, hovering over her, before using his mouth to take a delicious journey along her body to the juncture between her thighs, bringing her pleasure as the sunlight warmed her skin, and her cries—
A throat clearing had her jerking as though her thoughts were dancing around the room for all to see. With a decidedly wicked smile that implied he knew exactly where her imagination had been traveling, he slowly shoved himself to his feet. Tamping down her pounding heart, Minerva rose as well.
“I must take my leave,” he said. “You’re welcome to keep the photographs.”
“I shall treasure them.” And she would. She wouldn’t be able to look at them without thinking of him and the intimacies they’d shared. Those intimacies were beginning to go beyond the physical to include shared moments that connected them in ways that she’d never been associated with anyone outside her circle of family and close friends.
“Then I’ve found them a good home,” he said quietly before walking away. He stopped to have a word with her mother, then carried on through the doorway.
Sitting back down, Minerva picked up the photographs. Nothing he could have given her would have pleased her more. She rather suspected he knew that. He knew her better than any other man. Should she be comforted or wary by that thought?
Acutely aware of her mother settling on the cushion beside her, Minerva fought not to blush.
“What an interesting afternoon. When did Ashebury start taking an interest in you?” her mother asked.
“We spoke a little when I attended Lady Greyling’s party. Our paths have crossed a few times since.”
“You looked rather pleased when he walked through the door.”
“I find his adventures interesting and his photographs ... he’s very talented.”
Her mother took the top one—the chimpanzees which Minerva thought would forever remain her favorite—and studied it. “He has a good eye.”
She thought her mother was talking about more than the picture. “How did you know, unequivocally, that Father loved you?”
Her mother’s eyes softened with remembrance. “When I met your father, he cared only about acquiring wealth. His coffers were overflowing, yet he wanted more. It was all he valued. Then, one day, he was willing to give it all up for me.”
She’d always known the basics of her parents’ tale, but not the specifics. “I think that’s the reason that I dislike fortune hunters. They have nothing to give up.”
“Don’t be so sure, sweeting. Everyone has something to sacrifice.”
“ITHINK Ashe is in a bit of bother financially,” Edward said, sipping his brother’s scotch, waiting for his turn at the billiards table.
Grey lifted his gaze from the colored balls he’d been studying. “Has he told you that?”
“Not the details, but he’s moving into Ashebury Place. His situation must be dire for him to do that.” While none of them knew precisely why Ashe had an aversion to the place, they knew it was associated with the death of his parents. He’d suffered through nightmares when they first moved to Havisham.
