One pin slid free, and then another. A small sound of need came from low in her throat. The desire that roared through him took him by surprise. They had been dancing about each other—literally and figuratively—for weeks now. But she was close to his friend’s most recent inamorata, and he had known he needed to tread lightly where Lottie was concerned. However, all that had changed because, now, he was desperate.
It wasn’t desperation he was feeling at present, though, nor was it desperation that threatened to consume him. It was something far more potent. Because nothing could have prepared him for the way her lips felt on his, her tongue gliding boldly into his mouth.
Or for her hand on the fall of his trousers, lightly skating over his rigid cock in a tease that set his jaw on edge.
He jerked his head back as she gave him another slow, more thorough caress that made his ballocks tighten, holding his stare all the while. Her boldness pleased him so much that a rush of lust knifed through him with enough violence that he hissed in a breath, as if wounded.
Here was a woman who knew what she desired and wasn’t afraid to take it. To takehim. And sweet Christ, if that wasn’t the most potent aphrodisiac he had ever known, he hadn’t an inkling what was. His breathing was ragged, his heart galloping. Everything in him screamed to tear open the buttons on his falls and let her do what she would with him. But no, he hadn’tinvited her to the emerald salon for a frantic fuck. He had brought her here for another reason entirely.
Summoning all the control he possessed, Brandon snatched her hand away from his raging cockstand and brought it swiftly to his lips for a reverent kiss instead. “Lottie.”
“Mmm.” Her eyes were slumberous, lids low, eyes darkened with desire, twin pools of wintry, storm-ravished seas, and her glorious hair had begun to come undone, curls spilling over her shoulders.
He had to swallow hard against a new rush of need and remind himself that, for the first time in his misbegotten life, his responsibilities outweighed his own selfish wants. He couldn’t allow Lottie to unbutton his trousers, take out his cock, and ride him until they both came.
No, he had to ask her the last question in the world he had ever wished to ask of a woman.
One deep breath, and he blurted it.
“Will you marry me?”
CHAPTER 3
Lottie disentangled herself from Brandon, recoiling to the other end of the settee.
For the second time in the span of one evening, she was convincing herself she had misheard him. And yet, this time, there wasn’t the cacophony of a ball to blame. Nor did she think she had misunderstood his question.
No, indeed, he had enunciated it quite clearly.
And he was staring at her now, unfairly handsome, a wavy lock of hair fallen over his brow in a rakish manner. The expectation on his face was sincere, having replaced the look of sullen desire he had been wearing when her hand had been upon the thick ridge of his cock.
He had asked her tomarryhim.
Good God, was he mad?
“Are you jesting?” she demanded, struggling to form her thoughts after the turbulent desire that had roared through her at his kisses.
He was unsmiling. “I can assure you that I would never joke about so serious a matter.”
“But-but you are London’s greatest lover,” she sputtered.
He inclined his head. “I am aware of the somewhat dubious title. But I’m afraid I’ve no source of comparison. I cannot lay claim to the veracity of it. My pride, however, would certainly delight in doing so.”
The carved wood of the settee’s arm pressed into her back through her corset. “Are you soused?”
One corner of his lips curved in a mocking half smile. “Unfortunately not.”
Her mind whirled. “Then why…? That is to say, I don’t understand. I thought this was to be an assignation.”
“That is apparent, and as much as I adored your hand on my cock, I’m not in search of that sort of diversion this evening.”
Your hand on my cock.
Her cheeks went hot, and she knew she was flushing like a blasted tomato. “You needn’t be so vulgar, Your Grace.”
Your Grace.How strange and formal the honorific felt on her lips so soon after his tongue had stroked against hers and her hand had covered the indecent bulge that was still present in his trousers. At least his desire hadn’t been feigned, even if his ruse in inviting her here to this room had been.
He lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug, his eyes—even more vibrant here in the emerald salon, surrounded by shades of green—burning into hers. “I was being honest. There was nothing I would have liked more than to let you have your wicked way with me. There are simply other concerns awaiting me that can’t be ignored. I need a wife, and with great haste.”
