“I have been in Lord Kilcairn’s employ for nine years. In that time I have witnessed various scandalous incidents, and I have kept my silence about them. During the same period, I have also watched the earl grow steadily more cynical and set in his ways.” He leaned closer, glancing over his shoulder, and lowered his voice still further. “Whether you realize it or not, Miss Gallant, your presence here has had a profound influence on him—an influence that has been quite beneficial to his staff.”
Alexandra stared at him. “What?”
He sighed. “To be blunt, the earl has been more pleasant to us—and to everyone else—since you arrived. It wasn’t that he was cruel before, but more like he simply…didn’t notice.” The butler straightened. “Now, please get back inside.”
She lowered her head to her arms. “I can’t. I’m stuck.”
“Ah. Then I’ll fetch some assistance.”
“N—”
As the butler’s footsteps faded away, Alexandra reflected that despite the absurdity of the situation, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat flattered. Ridiculous and aggravating as being held prisoner in someone’s wine cellar was, no one had ever worked so hard to keep her safe anywhere.
Something grasped her ankles. Alexandra shrieked.
“Hush,” Lucien said from behind and below her.
“Well, close the door down there,” she hissed. “I don’t want anyone else to see me like this.”
“Already done, though you should have thought of that earlier.” His warm, strong hands hesitated, then slowly slid up her legs beneath her skirt.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said raggedly. “Stop that.”
“Then stop wriggling your lovely bottom like that.”
She wished she could see his face, to know whether he was teasing or if she was truly affecting him. Lucien tightened his grip and pulled on her legs. Alexandra began to slide backward, and instinctively flailed her arms to look for support before she could fall.
“Ouch. Damn it,” he cursed, and thwacked her across the bottom.
It didn’t hurt, but she felt vulnerable enough without him doing that. “Don’t do that!”
“You kicked me in the jaw, chit.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
This time she distinctly heard him chuckle. “Let’s give this another try, shall we? I won’t let you fall.”
He was taking most unfair advantage of her helplessness, for he was caressing her legs in a rather intimate manner—but it felt like forever since he had last touched her. Angry with him or not, she loved his touch—and the sound of his voice, and his lovely eyes…
She slid backward another inch or so, and then stuck. Lucien tugged her legs again, and something tore. “Lucien, I’m caught.”
This time she could have sworn it was his cheek running along her thigh. “Yes, you are.”
Alexandra couldn’t help the tremor that warmed her all the way to her toes. “My dress is caught,” she amended. Hands caressed her thighs again, joined by a warm, slightly sucking contact that ran up the insides of her thighs with agonizing slowness. “Are you kissing me?” she gasped.
“Yes.”
“Well, stop it. I can’t breathe.”
“Right. Hang on a moment. I’ll get the chair.”
He moved away and then returned, this time to slip his hands along her hips and waist. Alexandra was beginning to feel rather warm, and experimentally she wriggled again.
“Good God,” he hissed, his voice much closer. “Where are you caught?”
“A little to the left, I think. Yes, right there.”
His hand wedged between her body and the window casing. Pressing snugly against her left breast, he paused again. “Here?” he asked, and caressed her through the thin material of her gown. “Or here?”
