Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(57)

Especially there. The part that was standing up and taking notice of her actions. The part she was sitting on.

He drew her close and kissed her, pulling her closer against his chest, shifting her so his cock was just under her delectable bottom.

She had to feel it. She had to know what she was doing to him.

And then she leaned closer, her breasts pushing against him, his cock throbbing in delicious agony. She placed one hand on his chest, sliding it under his jacket, over his waistcoat, her fingers beginning to work the buttons free.

He broke the kiss, gasping, and moved his hand to the bottom of his waistcoat, undoing the buttons furiously, meeting her fingers in the middle. Within seconds, he’d managed to shrug off his jacket, tossing it to the ground, his waistcoat following, and then they were both tugging on his shirt. She drew it up over his head and he was momentarily blinded, and then saw her face as she threw the shirt in the air, heedless of where it would land.

She was grinning, and he smiled back, and then—thank God—her hands were on his skin, her palms sliding all over him, her gaze focused on his face, on his reactions.

She slid her fingers over his nipple and he closed his eyes, letting the sensation of her touch be all that he felt.

“That seems as though it is particularly interesting,” she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.

“It is, Olivia, and you should never stop doing it.”

The words came out before he could think, and then he felt her reaction as she withdrew her hands and shifted, then got off his lap entirely.

Fuck. He shouldn’t have reminded her about it, that this was something that not only should they not be doing now, but that it was something they would never be doing in the future.

Because, according to her, she would be married to his best friend, and this would all be a painful, embarrassing memory.

“I should go back.”

He opened his eyes, wincing as he saw the look on her face. A look he couldn’t entirely gauge, but looked suspiciously like regret, anger, and shame.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—this is entirely my fault.”

She raised one of her eyebrows in that proud Olivia look he couldn’t help but admire. Even if she was currently staring him down, not an errant duck or a snobbish lord.

“I had just as much to do with all of this as you. To say it is your fault is to deny my part in it, as though I am just a puppet for your—your lustful behaviors.” The color was high on her cheeks, and he felt himself starting to laugh, but smothered it.

But of course she noticed.

“And now you are laughing at me—again, might I say?” She planted her fists on her hips and glared at him, but he could see the glimmer of humor in her eyes.

Perhaps she thought this was funny as well, but of course her maidenly demeanor and upbringing meant she absolutely must not indicate she did.

“No, of course not.” He rose, grimacing as his still erect cock brushed against the front of his trousers. Leaning over to pick up his discarded shirt and putting it on, then grabbing his waistcoat and jacket from the floor.

Was her expression wistful as he put his clothing back on? Or was that just his hope?

They didn’t speak, and he didn’t trust himself to touch her, so he opened the door for her and gestured for her to go ahead, unable to keep from looking at her back as she walked quickly down the hallway back to the library.

If this was what they ended up doing after only an hour of being together, what would happen when they were in one another’s company for weeks on end?

Thank God—or goddamn it—Bennett was arriving tomorrow.





Chapter 19




If you don’t trust yourself, get your sister’s advice.

Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Being Reckless



“Again?” Pearl sounded incredulous, and Olivia had to admit her twin had reason to.

They were in Pearl’s bedroom having endured a dinner party with their mother dominating the conversation and their father glowering at the food (he was not a good traveler) as Olivia tried not to look at Edward, and it appeared Edward was trying not to look at her.

Ida and Mr. Beechcroft were the only ones who seemed to have a pleasant dinner.

The bedrooms, as could be expected, were enormous. Pearl’s was decorated in varying shades of silver and grey, with vases of bright pink roses scattered on nearly every available surface.

It was far more opulent than their own house, but it managed to remain tasteful, which was a neat trick, Olivia thought.

Her own room was gold and green, and she wondered if Edward had decided on the rooms, since her coloring matched the room’s shades.

Or she was thinking too much of herself.

“Olivia. Again?” Pearl repeated in a firmer tone.

“Uh . . . yes?” she replied, sounding hesitant. Not at all like herself.

Then again, nothing about this was like herself. First was the fact that, yes, she had to admit—in the privacy of her own mind—she loved him.

Damn it.

And that she did not want to marry Bennett. But what kind of good could she do if she were just Lady Olivia, the most Disgraceful of the Duke’s Daughters? The one who had refused to marry the man she had been chasing in order to marry his best friend?

And, dear lord, what would that do to Lord Carson? How would he feel if his best friend were to marry the woman he had decided he should, indeed, marry?