The Unexpected Duchess (Playful Brides #1)(45)

Lucy let his hand drop and put both of her fists on her hips. “What the devil are you talking about?”

“It’s quite simple, really. On my way home, I was thinking about Berkeley, got angry, and punched a tree.”

She sighed. “So you didn’t actually believe the tree was Lord Berkeley?”

“No, but I wish it had been,” he grumbled. “Would have punched him in his proper mouth.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll wager your fist would look a lot better if you had. Why did you want to punch Lord Berkeley?” She picked up Derek’s hand again and pressed the poultice.

He looked away out the dark window. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She wrinkled her nose and pressed tighter. He winced and she smiled. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

He rested his other elbow on his knee. “How long have you known Berkeley? I’ve never seen you with him before.”

“I told you earlier, I met him tonight. Garrett introduced us. He seems quite enjoyable.”

Derek made a harrumphing noise. “You looked as if you were enjoying him.” He grumbled again. “I’ll wager he’s never done an honest day’s work in his entire proper life. Couldn’t shoot an elephant at ten paces. Couldn’t—”

She squeezed the poultice again. “Are you quite through?”

He gave her a half-leering drunken grin. “Yes.”

She arched a brow at him. “Why did you come to my window and not Cass’s?”

“Because I wanted to see you.” He tapped her on the nose with the tip of his finger to punctuate the last word.

Lucy tried to ignore the little thrill that shot through her at his words. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth to within an inch of his. “Perhaps I wanted to kiss you again. What would you say to that?”

Lucy’s heart was beating so hard she was certain he could hear it, too. The warmth and pressure of his hand against the exposed skin on the back of her neck was making her feel a little drunk herself. All she could do was stare at his lips. Was he truly going to kiss her again?

Oh wait. He’d asked her.

She slowly traced her tongue over her own dry lips. “What would you say to that?” he’d asked. For the second time in her life, with the same man, Lucy found herself speechless.

Be bold! The words streaked through her brain. Derek was entirely foxed. It was more than probable that he wouldn’t remember a thing that happened here between them tonight. Isn’t that what Garrett had told her about his infrequent bouts of drunkenness? Be bold, indeed.

“I would say, kiss me,” she breathed.

Derek obviously required no other inducement. His other hand came up to her shoulder and he pulled her against him as his mouth captured hers. The kiss was long and hot and wonderful. Lucy couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to.

His fingers filtered through her hair and then moved down her neck, past her shoulders, and to her hips. He grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. He’d lifted her as if she weighed no more than a doll. He was so big. So big and yet so tender. His mouth moved over hers with an urgency and finesse that belied how inebriated he seemed to be. This was no sloppy kiss from a man too deep in his cups. Unfortunately Lucy had been on the receiving end of one or two of those—though of course she’d ended them with crushing verbal set-downs. This kiss, however—this one was going to end with her never being the same.

When Derek’s lips finally moved away from hers, she gasped for breath and briefly rested her forehead against his. She was feeling things in all sorts of places she hadn’t felt before. Hot, wet, warm places. Places that were aching. “You’re a good kisser,” she whispered against his mouth.

She glanced away self-consciously and pulled herself off his lap, then stood and dragged the other chair from the corner over to where Derek sat.

He tilted his head to the side and regarded her. “I’m a good kisser but earlier you told me I have your blessing to court Cassandra, finally, after all this time.”

Lucy sucked in a breath and glanced away. “That’s right.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Does that decision have anything to do with Lord Berkeley?”

“What? No. Why?”

“Never mind. Is my hand fixed?”

“Just a minute.” She gathered the clean linens from the desktop where she’d set them and wrapped them tightly around his wound, taking care to ensure that the poultice remained firmly in place. “There.”

He pulled his hand from her grasp.

“You should see a doctor tomorrow. Have him look at it and make certain it’s not infected.”

“It’ll be fine.” He stood up and gestured toward the stairs. “Do you mind if I, um, leave through the front door?”

She smiled at that. “I think it would be best.”

“Sorry to bother you this evening, my lady.”

“Be careful getting home.”

He made his way to the door of her bedchamber, opened it, and looked back at her. “Give your proper Lord Berkeley my best.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


Lucy knocked lightly on the door to Cass’s bedchamber. “May I come in?”