Her fingers ran through his long hair, tightening and pulling. It brought a gasp from him, which ran through her body like a spike of molten metal. To know that she had made him feel pleasure was utterly intoxicating. She ran her fingers down the side of his angular, harsh face, down his throat, which felt soft by comparison.
Their kissing had ceased to be the demure exchange of closed mouths and brief contact. She felt as though he was drinking her in and she, doing the same. She wanted to touch every part of him and be touched in return.
Something bumped against her back, and she realized they had been moving until she had collided against the wall. One of Jeremy's hands ran down her buttocks and curved inward at the top of her thighs, making her whimper in sheer, shocked but pleased desire. The layers of fabric that separated his touch from her most intimate womanhood felt as though they were nothing at all. He pressed inward, making her squeak.
In a paroxysm of passion, Harriet's hand went to the wall behind her, gripping at the panel. It knocked against something that moved with the grinding noise of heavy ceramic against wood. Then came an almighty crash.
Harriet's eyes flew open, and she looked down at the bust that had been knocked from a wooden pedestal within reach of her hand. Knocked to the hard stone floor, where it had shattered into a thousand pieces.
“What am I doing? Unhand me this minute!” she gasped.
Jeremy stepped back, looking equally as shocked. He looked about himself as though only now remembering where he was.
“We must get the key before someone else comes along,” he rasped, red-faced.
He strode away, and Harriet had to run to keep up.
How far would I have gone? Freedom is one thing, but this was sheer wanton lust! I allowed him to touch me in the most intimate way; and not just with his hands, God help me!
“Will you slow down?” she demanded.
“No time. I apologize, Lady Harriet, but I cannot afford to be caught in such a compromising position.”
“Perhaps shouldn't have come to a society ball bearing shackles then,” Harriet retorted.
“A harmless game,” Jeremy shot back, glancing at her over his shoulder.
“Harmless? We were almost caught by a Duke and an Earl, not to mention his wife, who seemed rather prim and proper to me!”
“Harmless, which is not to say that it was not reckless on my part.” He smirked. “But then, what is life without a little risk, eh?”
“And now you say we must hurry because otherwise you might be compromised. What is life without a little risk,eh?” Harriet repeated his own words to him and received a glare that almost silenced her.
I will not be intimidated by a man who thinks it appropriate to place a shackle on a woman's arm. Game or not!
She glared back. They reached the bookcase under which the key had flown. Jeremy got down onto his knees, which forced Harriet to do the same with a squawk of indignation.
“It's no good. The space is too narrow. I cannot reach it,” Jeremy muttered angrily.
“We need something thin and relatively long,” Harriet suggested. “We might try pushing the keys all the way through and out the other side.”
She stood, tugging on the shackled arm to bring Jeremy to his feet also. Then she began hunting along the rows of books.
“Good idea,” Jeremy said, joining the search and picking out a pamphlet with a stiff paper cover. “No, not rigid enough,” he tossed the pamphlet aside carelessly.
“Are you intent on making as much of a mess as possible? If you recall, the Duke knows we were in here!” Harriet chided.
“I care only for our liberation from each other,” Jeremy commented, still hunting and discarding.
Harriet laughed suddenly. Jeremy looked at her.
“Is there something humorous about this situation?” he challenged.
“Only that we seem to have raced through an ordinary relationship in the blink of an eye. We meet, feel an explosion of desire, become shackled, and now wish to be free of each other. Does that not usually take a couple of years to achieve?”
Jeremy snorted a laugh, too boyish and innocent for a man like him that it made her scowl. “So I believe. I have never experienced it for myself.”
He found a book with a thin cover of stiff leather, reinforced by card. He dropped to his knees, and Harriet was once again tugged along with him. He began squinting at the gap, face pressed to the floor, trying to see where the keys lay.
