Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(66)

And yet here he was stalking through a crowded ballroom, his brother and her cousin in attendance. Well. That only made the hunt more interesting, didn’t it?

She was skittering around the edge of the crowd. She looked over her shoulder, and he stopped, half turned away from her, to greet an elderly gentleman he’d never met. The old man arched his eyebrows, confused but pleased, and Griffin leaned a little closer to hear his reply.

She fell for the ruse, silly, silly chit, and darted down a hallway. He straightened and turned from the old man, moving with purpose now. One glance showed that Thomas was clear across the room with a gentleman Griffin vaguely recognized as a member of the House of Lords. Griffin made sure no one was paying him any particular attention and ducked into the hallway.

The hall was lit, but the candelabra were few and far between. This wasn’t one of the main thoroughfares where the ladies went to mend their appearance. He tutted. She couldn’t have chosen a better place for his purposes had she acted under his own instructions.

Statuary lined the hall, eerily lifelike in the candlelight. The first room was on his left, the door ajar. He glanced inside and saw two shapes moving in the darkened room. His mouth curved in a cynical smile. She hadn’t gone to ground there. The next sitting room was empty. He carefully searched it while keeping an eye on the door so she wouldn’t double back past him.

The moment he entered the third room, however, he knew. It might have been the faint scent of a woman, or perhaps he heard a low gasp. Or perhaps he simply knew on a level below his senses and skin, a level as deep as his soul: She was here. He closed the door behind him, enclosing them both in near darkness. A single candle flickered, abandoned, on a side table.

Griffin glanced about the room. It seemed to be a small library or retiring room. A trio of chairs was by the fireplace on the far side, facing away from the door. Two settees were nearer to him, at right angles around a low table in the center of the room. One of the settees had its back to him, but the trio of chairs was the more obvious choice.

He smiled slightly, feeling his pulse spike, and walked slowly toward the fireplace.

She waited until he was bent over the nearest chair. There was a scuffling and a sudden flurry, but he was watching.

Griffin whirled and made it to the door before she did.

Hero halted, panting, inches from his chest.

He cocked his head, smiling not at all nicely. “Going somewhere, my Lady Perfect?”

“Let me out,” she demanded. Any other woman would’ve pleaded.

He took a step toward her, forcing her to step back or let him run into her. “No.”

She flung back her head, regal and palely beautiful. The diamonds in her red hair glittered. “I’ve told you I won’t marry you.”

“So you have,” he agreed pleasantly. “But I’m not looking for marriage at the moment.”

Her lips parted, and he saw the delicate skin on her throat flutter under her heartbeat. He’d bedded her only this morning. She’d been an innocent; she’d still be sore. They were in a public gathering, for Christ’s sake.

None of it mattered.

He was ragingly hard for her.

“Come here,” he whispered.

“Griffin.”

He half closed his eyes at her murmur. “You say my name like a lover, so soft, so sweet. I want to lick the word from your lips, sip the exhaled breath from your mouth. I want to possess you utterly. Right now. Right here.”

She darted then, a hart flushed from cover, and tried to leap around him. He caught her by her waist and flung her up against the closed door.

Then he bent his head and looked her in her brilliant diamond-gray eyes. “What will it be, madam?”

HERO LOOKED INTO those demonic green eyes and knew stark despair mixed with freedom: She couldn’t resist him. Why, she wasn’t sure. Any other man she would’ve walked away from. But not Griffin.

Never Griffin.

She let her own worst impulses fly free. She raised her hands, framed his lean cheeks, and pulled his head down to hers.

Oh, yes, she needed this. She needed him.

His mouth was warm and luscious, and she feasted on it like a starved child. She hadn’t even known that she’d missed the taste of his lips. The taste of liberty.

He groaned and fumbled with her skirts, pulling, yanking them up. She felt a draft of cool air on her bare thighs, and then his big, hot palms were on her bottom. He squeezed and fondled her, all the while kissing her passionately, his tongue in her mouth. His fingers dipped into the crevice of her buttocks and stroked down until they met her wetness from behind.

He tore his mouth from hers, panting. “Put your arms around my shoulders.”

She complied, with no idea what he might have in mind. Then he was lifting her bodily, supporting her whole weight in just his arms. She hung gracelessly for a moment until she instinctively wrapped her legs about his waist.

“Good girl,” he breathed.

His hand was between them, fumbling awkwardly, and she bit her lip against a wholly inappropriate fit of the giggles. They were both completely dressed. He even still wore his white wig. How could he possibly think—

And then she felt the naked heat of his cock.

She gasped, staring into his eyes, only inches from her own.

“Shhh,” he hissed quietly. “You must make no noise.”

He made a movement and that broad head slid through her slick folds.