Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(46)

She turned away from him. If she didn’t think of him perhaps her body would cool, perhaps she’d feel like herself again.

Lemonade. She’d get a cool glass of lemonade. This early in the evening there might even be chunks of ice floating in it. Perhaps she’d fish one out and run it over her heated skin—run it over his damp skin, watch his skin quiver and jump beneath the cold, watch…

No. No. No. Think about something else, anything else.

She turned again, heading to the refreshments, and stopped.

The Binkshaws stood before her. Not touching, but with an invisible cord holding them together. Why had she never noticed how Mr. Binkshaw’s gaze followed his wife, seen how his eyes caressed her ass as she turned away, seen the slight smile that marked both their faces when their eyes met? The truth surrounded her. She’d never bothered to actually look at them beyond the obvious. They were middle-aged, not unattractive, but not noteworthy. She’d taken them for ordinary when they were anything but. Her gaze circled the ballroom. How many others had she never bothered to notice? How many exciting lives were out there, slipping beneath her glance?

They were important questions if she was to seek a husband. Her eyes went to Lord Peter, who stood talking to Miss Amy Samson at the side of the floor. He’d never been unappealing but he’d never captured her attention. Had she missed something? He’d always been a good conversationalist, but she’d never bothered to pay him much mind. If she really focused on him, gave him a chance to open up to her, what would she find?



And what of Lord Banks? He’d certainly demonstrated that he had some very interesting qualities. She wasn’t altogether sure that she wanted a husband who indulged in someone else’s library, but given her recent desires in the gardens perhaps that was actually a good thing. Of course, she’d want a husband who indulged only with her and Lord Banks was staring at some woman who was distinctly not Julianna. And did she want a husband who stared at a woman’s breasts like that across a dance floor? She tried to imagine being the focus of such a gaze and decided that no, she did not like it, not in a crowded room. Duldon had made it very clear that he liked her breasts, that he noticed them each time he saw her, but she’d never felt like he was screaming the fact. No, she didn’t think Lord Banks would do, although she would try talking to him again. She was determined to consider all possibilities.

Lord Temple crossed into her field of vision, Sarah Swilp upon his arm. As he passed, he turned and stared at her, his eyes eating into her. Again she had the thought that he knew something about her that she did not know that he knew. He’d given her that feeling all afternoon, little comments that seemed to mean something she could not understand. It was most disconcerting, but then perhaps it was a sign that she should get to know him better. He clearly was interested in getting to know her and perhaps more. Some of his comments had been most suggestive. Maybe he would be a good choice to try kissing, although in this case she meant only kissing. She’d tried to avoid Temple for years because of those snake hands. Maybe that had been a mistake. If she wanted to experiment with a man other than Duldon touching her, he might be the place to start. His wandering hands had definitely made his interest clear. And his lips were not snaky. He might very well be a good kisser.



“I don’t like what you are thinking,” Duldon whispered from behind.

How in the blazes had he managed to get behind her? Last she’d seen him, he’d been across the room from her. Blast and double blast. “My thoughts are my own.”

“Not when you look at another man with that consideration in your eyes, they are not.”

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Ignore the chafing of her nipples against her bodice. Ignore the quivers that being near him caused, the wondering of when he would touch her again. Ignore the look in his eyes as they glanced at her breast and then away. Oh yes, he liked them.

Stop it. Stop thinking this way. “I believe that I told you last night that I did not take orders from you.”

“Perhaps not yet, but soon.” His lips curled up.

She glared at him. “Not soon. Not ever. That is why I do not wish to marry you. I keep telling you that I wish some control in my life, my own choices.”

“We will see. I am rather sure you will enjoy following my direction.”



She ignored the ache between her legs that his words heightened. She was not a woman who enjoyed being subservient. She was not. “I wish you would go away. You were going to help me find a husband, but all you seem to do is hinder me.”

“I believe we just have different ideas on how I should help you. You did admit that I helped with making you think about the qualities you wished in a husband.”

“True, but now you do nothing but hinder.”

“It was you who said you did not think that kissing was a truly important factor.”

“I did not say that. I only said that it was not the only factor. I do think it is important that I understand the physical aspects of man and woman more. You are the one who has shown me that I may want to do more than to lie flat on my back in the bedroom.”

His soft chuckle surrounded her. “Yes, I cannot imagine you lying there quiet and still—unless, of course, you were bound to the bed.”

Heat suffused her. She’d never even dreamed of such a thing and suddenly she knew that was all she would think of this evening. “We should not be talking in such a manner. It is not proper.”