“Is this a further attempt to seduce me and cement your position in my household?” he asked softly, leaning closer.
Georgia could have put her finger to his lips with her eyes closed. She could have kissed him blindly and found her mark. Such was the magnetic draw that she felt from him.
“I feel thatIam the one being seduced. No other man has inspired me to be naked in his presence,” Georgia whispered instead.
She felt a glorious triumph at the catch in his breath just then. His hand slipped from her cheek to her throat, fingertips lingering as her pulse raced.
He feels my excitement. He does not need eyes to know how aroused I am.
She put her fingers to his wrist, feeling his own pulse. Quick and hard. She exerted some pressure, moving his arm downwards so that his hand rested on her collarbone. His thumb stroked down the hollow between her breasts.
A sudden knock at the door interrupted the moment.
CHAPTER 20
Keaton located the decanter of brandy on the sideboard. He missed on the first contact, cursing and taking a deep breath, searching for equilibrium. Georgia filled his mind. He would not be able to be alone in a room with her now without listening intently for the telltale swish of skirts. Without wondering if she was choosing to tantalize him again.
The brandy sloshed over the rim of the glass and wet his fingers—he’d accidentally forgone his usual method of measuring how much he was pouring. He cursed and let the glass shatter to the floor.
My mind is in fragments, and it is all her doing!
“Do you require assistance, Your Grace?” Rutherford’s voice intruded on his thoughts.
Keaton had not even heard the butler approaching.
“What the devil is going on?” Edric exclaimed.
Keaton threw up his hands in exasperation.
“Open house, Uncle! Open house! Come one, come all!”
He found a chair without knocking against any other furniture, thankfully, and sat, raking his hands through his hair.
“Do I have any mail, Rutherford?” he asked absently.
“Dash the mail!” Edric boomed, “I find you dropping glasses, spilling good brandy, and clearly in a state of some agitation. What is going on?”
“Your Grace,” Keaton corrected, pointing to the source of his uncle’s voice.
“Of course!” Edric barked, “Your Grace.”
“I am merely out of sorts. It must happen to us all from time to time.”
“And this being out of sorts has nothing to do with your wife?”
Keaton laughed. “Is it not the case that most of a husband’s moments of discomfiture stem from his wife?”
“Yes, well, I have heard the talk of the Duke and Duchess going for a swim in their clothes…”
“That is an exaggeration. We were caught in a storm,” he waved away.
“Which is something you have never done before, Your Grace. I am merely pointing out unusual behavior.”
“Different, certainly, but not necessarily bad,” Keaton challenged.
“That remains to be seen. This marriage was for the purposes of saving your reputation. Which she put at risk in the first place.”
“She?”
