1.Kiss a man until you are breathless.
2.Arrange for an assignation. Perhaps with Lord Q?
3.Get caught in the rain with a gentleman. (This will necessitate the removal of wet garments. Choose said gentleman wisely.)
4.Sneak into a gentleman’s bedchamber in the midst of the night.
5.Go to a gentleman’s private apartments.
6.Spend a night in a gentleman’s bed.
7.Make love in the outdoors.
8.Ask
Dear heavens.He had crossed out number five for her. And he meant to kiss her breathless.
She ought to be horrified at the prospect of completing her list with a man like Elijah Decker.
Jo could scarcely wait.
Lady Jo Danvershad fallen asleep on him in his carriage. She had snuggled up to him like a bloody kitten and then closed her eyes. And he, Elijah Decker, purveyor and collector of erotic art and literature, acknowledged rakehell and heartless voluptuary, had slid his arm around her, holding her close. He had buried his nose in her sweetly scented hair before waking her when they arrived back at the Earl of Ravenscroft’s townhome and settling her hat and veil into place.
And before that, he had plied her with wine and cream ice.
The wine had been to soothe any ragged nerves she would have at being alone with him. The cream ice had been purely because it pleased him to give her something she liked, to watch her savor it.
He may as well lie down in the nearest graveyard and call himself finished.
But no.
For reasons beyond his ken, he had asked her to allow him to be the man—the only man—with whom she completed her wicked list. And she had agreed.
Which was why, for the second time, he was awaiting her in the mews in his carriage.
If he had any sense, he would have returned Lady Jo’s list and forgotten all about her. He did not have any sense, as evidenced by his current predicament. He felt like a criminal, hovering here in the shadows. Or a lover who was waiting for his mistress’s husband to leave so he could sneak inside and make the man a cuckold. There was something so very comical about this scenario…
And yet, he was here.
He was waiting for her.
That knot in his stomach? It was anxiousness. That ache in his ballocks? It was desire. That knife blade of guilt which had been stabbing him ever since he had reached the decision to bed her? Still present.
He tamped it down.
Easily ignored.
Unlike the woman herself.
As on the previous occasion, the carriage door opened, and suddenly, she was invading his territory. In a swish of silken skirts, she settled on the squabs at his side, bringing with her the scent of impending rain and exotic flowers and something else, some other note that was simply, deliciously,her.
He waited until the carriage door snapped closed to remove her hat and veil and drink in the sight of her.Damn, she was beautiful. He wanted to kiss her sweet little upturned nose.
When had he ever been so affected by the mere sight of a woman?
This had to end.
He had no earthly idea how it would.
