“Devil them,” James said, his own breathing already labored. “This is more important.”
His thigh thrust between hers, and his hands clasped her buttocks to drag her up the surface of it. She moaned at the friction, her arms wrapping about his neck, her legs about his waist, her head thrown back so his mouth could sear her throat. There was no more thought for teasing or anything beyond the moment and their burgeoning passion.
And into this heated scene walked Anthony Malory. “Thought the youngun was only bamming me, but I see he wasn’t.”
James’s head came up, and his growl was indicative of a very frustrated annoyance. “Blister it, Tony, your timing is bloody rotten!”
Georgina slid slowly back to the floor, though her footing was none too steady. It took her about that long to realize they’d been intruded upon by one of the in-laws. Fortunately, James’s arms were still about her for support, but they couldn’t prevent the mortified flush that was fast staining her cheeks.
She remembered Anthony from that night in the tavern when he’d mistaken Mac for someone else, remembered thinking he was the most handsome blue-eyed devil she’d ever seen—until she noticed James. But Anthony was still incredibly good-looking. And she hadn’t been being only spiteful earlier when she’d told James that his son looked more like Anthony. Jeremy was in fact a younger image of Anthony, even to the cobalt-blue eyes and coal-black hair. She had to wonder if James reallywassure that Jeremy was his. And she had to wonder what Anthony must think of her in the brief glance he gave her.
Put a patch over her eye and she’d look like a pirate just now in James’s flowing white shirt, which he’d managed to unlace exceedingly low, his wide belt, cut down to her size, which she was wearing over the shirt because it was so blasted big, and her own tight breeches. And she was barefooted and bare-calved. She’d done no more than take off her shoes and stockings before she’d dropped onto the bed earlier to seethe and had fallen asleep instead.
Oh, she was mortified all right to be found looking like this, and in such an intimate position, but at least this time it wasn’t her fault. She had been behind closed doors, doing what she had every right to do. Anthony should be the one embarrassed for just walking in without warning, but he didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. He looked merely annoyed.
“It’s good to see you, too, brother,” he said in reply to James’s heated statement. “But not your little wench there. You’ve got about two minutes to dispose of the chit before the wife comes up to welcome you home.”
“George isn’t going anywhere, but you can take yourself out of here.”
“You’re foxed, is that it? Can’t remember that this ain’t a bachelor residence anymore?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my memory, old boy, and there’s no need to hide George. She’s—”
“Now we’re done for,” Anthony interrupted in vexation as they heard someone coming down the hall. “Stick her under the bed or something…Well, don’t just stand there!” and he reached for Georgina himself.
“Touch her, lad,” James warned softly, “and you’ll end up stretched out on the floor yourself.”
“Well, I like that,” Anthony replied huffily, but he backed off. “Fine. Then you talk your way out of this. But if I end up having a row with Roslynn over it, I’ll bloody well take it out of your hide, see if I don’t.”
“Anthony,” James said simply. “Shut up.”
He did just that. Leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, he waited for the fireworks to start. He’d barely spared Georgina more than a cursory glance. Now he watched the open doorway, waiting for his wife to appear.
By this time, Georgina was expecting a veritable dragon to enter the room. Anyone who could cause that tall, physically perfect man to worry that she might be upset with him had to be very formidable indeed. But Roslynn Malory didn’t look intimidating when she came through the door, offering James a blinding smile, which she passed on to Georgina. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, not much taller than Georgina, not much older, and, by the looks of it, not much more pregnant than Georgina was.
“Jeremy just stopped me on the stairs to tell me you’ve gotten married, James. Is this true?”
“Married?” Anthony’s interest perked up.
“I thought you said you hadn’t convinced Jeremy,” Georgina said to James.
“I didn’t. The dear boy is being tediously loyal where he thinks it will count. Notice he didn’t tell Tony the same thing. Because he still doesn’t believe it himself.”
“Married?” Anthony said again, and got no more notice than before.
Roslynn asked. “What doesn’t Jeremy believe?”
“That George here is my viscountess.”
“Clever of you to find another name for it, James,” Georgina said. “But that oneIobject to, so find another. You won’t be sticking any English titles on me.”
“Too late, love. The title came with the name.”
“Married?” Anthony shouted this time, and finally got James’s attention. “That’s doing it up a bit much, isn’t it, just to get out of a scolding?”
And before James could comment one way or the other, Roslynn asked her husband, “Who in their right mind would try to scoldhim?”
“You would, sweetheart.”
