Her entire body throbbed, wetness flooded her sex, her legs shook until she feared they wouldn’t support her if she was forced to stand on her own. This man did these things, easily. And it was clear he wanted more.
What was even clearer was that she would allow him to take more. She would surrender to his ministrations because desire drove inside her like a persistent drumbeat. And she was helpless to it, to him, in a way she had never experienced before.
He lowered his mouth again and just before he could kiss her, there was a knock at the door behind them.
They both froze, locking eyes, and slowly he backed away from her. He held out a hand and she took it to get off the table. She smoothed her tangled skirt, her cheeks flaming as reality intruded upon this wild and wanton fantasy she’d been playing out.
“Yes?” she called out, her voice thick and rough from desire and pleasure.
Toby popped his head into the room once more and jolted as he saw Adelaide and Northfield standing together in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry, Lydia, I didn’t know you still had a visitor,” he said, darting his gaze down to the ground. “Richard wants to know if you plan to perform on Tuesday.”
Adelaide swallowed, trying to refocus her kiss-addled mind. She normally did a show on Saturday and two during the week, assuming she could get away. Most actresses weren’t allowed that kind of independence to choose their schedule, but her popularity had afforded her some freedom. A good thing, too, since it was a mighty trouble to escape her home and the watching eyes of her guardian aunt.
“Y-Yes,” she breathed. “Tuesday.”
“Good,” Toby said, making a note on a piece of paper. “Well, I’ll…I’ll see you then. Goodnight, Lydia.”
She nodded, and he shot her one last look as he closed the door again. Adelaide felt Northfield watching her as she moved away from him. Felt the heat of that stare and the promises it held. And a great part of her wanted to fall right back into the place they’d been when they were interrupted.
But reality had returned, not just the reality of where they were and the position they were in…but the reality of who she really was. She couldn’t surrender to passion with the Duke of Northfield. That was foolish to even consider.
“You are frowning,” Northfield said, his voice low and seductive.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and her heart stuttered. God, but she wanted to turn back into him, lift herself against his chest and throw all caution to the wind. But she shoved that wicked part of herself aside and shook her head.
“I’m only remembering reality, Your Grace. And where I am.”
He cocked his head. “If where you are is a problem, I have a solution.”
She faced him slowly. “And what is that?”
“Come back to my home,” he suggested. “And let’s continue what we started.”
She hesitated. What he was offering was shocking to Lady Adelaide, proper Society miss. He never would have thought to say such a thing toher. But to actress Lydia Ford? Well, why wouldn’t he offer a night of sin and passion? How many actresses in her acquaintance were having affairs with men like him?
But shewasn’tLydia, not really. And surrendering to this passion he offered her was dangerous to her real life. So she shook her head even though it took a great deal of effort to do so.
“I-I don’t think so, Your Grace,” she whispered. “I was carried away a moment ago, but my level head has returned and I-I think it would be best if I simply offer you my thanks for your compliments on my performance and say good night.”
His eyes went wide, like he was surprised at her answer, and she held her breath as she waited for him to grow angry with her. To push, like so many did when they didn’t get what they wanted. The Sir Archibalds of the world used their power to leverage control, certainly the Duke of Northfield had far more to leverage than most.
But instead his mouth turned up into one of those fetching half-smiles and he nodded. “Very well, Lydia. I shall bid you good night. For now. But I think we both know that we have unfinished business.” He stepped toward the door and opened it, letting the air back into the room. He nodded at her. “I very much look forward to our next encounter.”
Then he was gone, leaving Adelaide to sag against the table where he had all but ravished her. Leaving her to ponder his words. Their next encounter might not be where the duke would expect it. And she could only hope that this night wouldn’t bring down all she had carefully built to protect herself.
Chapter Three
Graham looked around the room at the spinning couples in their finery and barely held back a sigh. He had not been to a ball in months, not since the betrayal that had sent him spiraling into himself. Now he felt uncomfortable, especially since it seemed the whole room was determined to stare at him. Judging. Whispering.
Tyndale stepped up beside him and held out a drink. “Here, to buoy your strength.”
Graham shook his head. “I doubt a watered down drink will buoy anything,” he said, though he took the offering before he looked out into the crowd again. “I don’t want to be here.”
Tyndale turned toward him, genuine kindness and understanding in his dark green eyes. “I know, mate. I really do. After Angelica died, coming back to Society was torture. The loss was still fresh and the whispers magnified it. But I promise you it will get easier the more you do it.”
Graham flinched. “It must make you sick to hear me whine about Simon and Meg when compared to your loss.”
Tyndale’s forehead wrinkled and he reached out to squeeze Graham’s arm. “Pain isn’t a competition. You have a right to the feelings in your heart. I just don’t want to see you drown in them.”
