Breathless(30)

Kent liked the idea. “We could fix up that bedroom off the kitchen for her, but the plumbing isn’t working.”

Farley said, “Buck and I can get on that right away. Place will need a new tub and sink though, Mrs. Fontaine.”

“I can see about purchasing those, Eddy,” Portia said. “Shouldn’t be a problem. There’s bedroom furniture in storage at our place that we can use for her room, too.”

“When can I meet her?” Kent asked Eddy.

“I’ll see if she can drop by this evening.”

“That’s fine. When do the dudes arrive, Portia?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Kent said. “If Mrs. Salinas agrees to hire on, she can use Blanchard’s bedroom for now. I’ll sleep in the bunkhouse.”

Eddy said, “And feel free to take your meals with us until she gets settled in.” With that settled, she stood. “I need to get back. I’ll see you all at dinner. Portia, are you coming back with me or later on?”

“Later. I want to take a look at Mrs. Salinas’s room and figure out what else needs purchasing. We’ll need paint for sure.”

“Okay. Sun’s too high to be up on that roof.”

Feeling like a reprimanded twelve-year-old she replied, “I know, Auntie. I’ll finish lunch, make my list, and head home when I’m done.”

Eddy nodded and departed.

After lunch, because the back of the house was relatively shaded, Farley Buck, and Matt began digging to unearth the broken water pipe while Portia and Kent took stock of the run-down interior of the bedroom off the kitchen that would eventually be used by Mrs. Salinas.

Portia asked, “I’m not much of a carpenter but how long do you think it might take to make the room usable again?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m not sure. Floor needs replacing. Walls need patching and paint. The biggest job will be repairing the washroom.”

She glanced down at the warped wooden floor. “I haven’t been in here in years. Had no idea he’d let the place go this way.” When she looked over he was watching her. Time stretched. Her eyes strayed to his mouth and lingered. When she raised them to his again, the air seemed to thicken.

He said, “When you look at me that way it makes me want to do all manner of things, Duchess, and keeping my hands to myself is not one of them.”

His voice was barely above a whisper but it echoed within her like distant rolling thunder. She knew she should probably leave the room to avoid the inevitable, but when he put actions to words and ran a slow possessive finger over her lips, passion rooted her where she stood and she couldn’t move, nor did she wish to. Instead, her untutored senses drank in his touch like the desert did rain. The kiss that followed, so sweetly powerful made her hungry for more. He drew her closer, fitting her against him until they melted into one and she didn’t care that they might be discovered as long as he continued to feed the longing he’d aroused. His mouth was experienced, masterful, dizzying. Her lips parted. Their tongues mated, danced, and she groaned with the rising pleasure.

“I want to strip you bare and kiss you here . . .” he rasped as his hand moved to her breast beneath the thin fabric of her shirt and toyed with the nipple until it bloomed and hardened. As the words shook her, he lowered his head and bit her gently through her shirt before taking the nipple into his mouth. She responded with a hushed harsh cry.

“Like that, do you?” he asked with wicked amusement.

And Lord help her, she did. She also liked the way he slowly treated the other breast to the same bold claiming. Breathing was difficult as was maintaining her footing. Her entire being roiled like a pot of simmering water, and it boiled over when he undid her shirt’s buttons to reveal the gray silk shift she had on beneath. Hot eyes holding hers, he traced a finger down her trembling throat and over the rise of her breasts before placing his lips against the bared vee of her throat. He flicked the tip of his tongue against her flesh. When he tugged the front of her shift down, she drew in a shuddering breath and thrilled to the feel of his hands sliding over the length of black silk she’d bound herself with in lieu of wearing a corset.

“You could kill a man wearing this.”

And before she could react, he moved the silk aside and feasted. A strangled cry slid from her lips. No man had ever touched her let alone used his mouth to do so, and the glorious sensations overrode how scandalous she knew she must be to allow such liberties. Yet she allowed him to suck and tongue and tug with his teeth until her eyes slid shut and the moans stacked up in her throat. Small shards of lightning settled between her thighs. Her hips began to move in a subtle rhythm only her body could hear and he answered with the hard thick part of himself that made him male. It was shameless, illicit, and so decadent she felt like someone else entirely, and that woman was breathless and greedy for more.

He finally lifted his head and the flame in his eyes increased her need. “You should button yourself up and get out of here before I tug those denims down and kiss you in places you never imagined. Or maybe you have.”

Portia had no idea what he was referencing. All she knew was that he’d left her mindless and befuddled and that parts of her would rather walk through the desert naked than leave now. But she knew he was right. Where another man might have taken advantage of her in ways she would most certainly regret, he was attempting to do the honorable thing and she had to admire him for it, so while a part of her wailed in regret, she righted her shift and did up her buttons. He stood there with those burning eyes and watched and waited.