She stared at him. “Naughty books?”
He pulled one forth and handed it to her. She gave him a dubious glance before flipping it open. Then she gasped again.
“My goodness, these are—” She rotated the book sideways, and Roman stood so he could see what she was looking at. It was a drawing of two people copulating in an unusual position. “The drawings are beautiful. Why do you hide them?”
He shrugged. “I suppose because they’ve always been there.”
She cocked her head with an amused smile. “And when did you find this secret compartment of naughty books?”
“When I was twelve or thirteen, perhaps? I confess I perused them often when I was home from school.”
“You were very naughty,” she said with a bit of a scold in her tone that, surprisingly, contributed to his arousal.
“I wanted to be.”
She laughed. “What a terrible rogue you were.” She flipped the page, and the next drawing was of a woman performing oral sex on a man beneath a dining table. He was fully dressed, as was she, and he was drinking port with other gentlemen.
“Now that I’ve done,” she said. “Not like that, of course. I can’t imagine the other men at the table aren’t aware there’s a woman underneath pleasuring their host. Nor can I imagine the host could manage to keep himself collected, particularly when it came to climax. To do so would be a form of torture, would it not?”
When Roman had thought to show her the compartment and its contents, he hadn’t considered they would have an in-depth discussion about any of the drawings. Consequently, he hadn’t envisioned that he would sport a raging erection when his former in-laws arrived.
“Which part have you done exactly?” he cleared his throat because he suddenly sounded as though he’d swallowed sand.
“The same thing the woman is doing.” Her gaze flicked to his groin. “Perhaps I’ll demonstrate my skill later.”
He groaned softly as he took the book from her and tucked it back onto the shelf, then closed the compartment. When he stood, he pulled her more firmly behind the palm and pressed her against the bookcase.
She looked up at him, her eyes smoldering. “Roman, you said you weren’t maneuvering me behind the palm to steal a kiss.”
“I hadn’t entirely planned to, but you’re the one who has me thinking of your mouth on my sex.” Roman was going to be in bad shape by that evening. Hell, he was struggling to keep himself from carrying her to his bedchamber right now. “Just one kiss?” he begged.
Her lips were parted, and he could see she was breathing faster. She might not be as aroused as he was, but she was on her way.
“One,” she said, her eyes narrowing with desire.
He clasped her face between his hands and claimed her mouth. How he wished she wasn’t wearing the wig so he could run his fingers through her hair.
He held her tightly as he ravished her mouth. She clutched at his coat and pressed against him.
She pushed at his chest, breaking through his rapturous delirium. “I hear them coming,” she said urgently as she took a step back.
He tipped his head down and worked to calm his galloping pulse as he wiped his hand over his mouth. He heard Ellis walk away but didn’t look at her. He didn’t dare.
But he needed to move out from behind the palm. Taking a long, deep breath, he walked quickly to stand behind a chair that would hide his erection.
Graham entered and announced the Laceys. They exchanged greetings and took their seats. Roman hesitated until their collective attention was not directed at him, then practically threw himself in the chair.
They began to discuss the manuscripts they’d received over the past fortnight. There was one that Margot was keen to discuss, so she launched into her analysis.
Finally, Roman’s body had cooled, but he still didn’t trust himself to look at Ellis.
“Mama, did you read that book?” Margot asked.
Roman glanced toward Harriet and saw that she was staring at Ellis.
Margot spoke again. “What about you, Papa?”
Josiah was also looking toward Ellis.
