“As do I.”
She knew a little of what that meant but didn’t see how anything meaningful could be accomplished in a pantry. Its cold-water sink, cupboards filled with all manner of tableware, and narrow shelves with glasses and teacups did not exactly inspire passion, despite decanters of ruby-red claret standing ready.
To her amazement, Geoffrey lifted her by the waist, turned quickly, and set her upon the marble countertop over a bank of glass-front cupboards. With her dress drawn tightly, he was unable to stand between her legs. Thus, he drew her skirts up both legs until her gown and petticoat rested atop her knees, which he gently pushed apart.
As soon as he settled between her thighs, he began to kiss her again.
Caroline had accepted all his outrageous actions with wide eyes until his mouth covered hers once more. The thrill of feeling air upon her silk stockings made her giddy, even light-headed. Sinking her hands into his hair, she opened her mouth and let their kiss deepen.
His tongue explored her mouth most thoroughly, and when she tried to do the same, he sucked upon hers, causing her toes to curl with longing.
“I’m tingling everywhere,” she said quietly after he drew back, and they both were dragging in long, ragged breaths.
“As am I,” he confessed, sounding hoarse. “You have bewitched me.”
She giggled, too loudly, and he clamped a swift hand over her mouth.
“Shh.”
She nodded. She would try to rein in her happiness, but when he took his hand away, shocking words came out.
“Touch me,” she asked brazenly, because she knew enough from the books she had been forbidden to read and had read anyway that if a man touched her between her legs, it would be like nothing she’d ever experienced. And that was precisely where she was throbbing.
The fingers of his right hand trailed along the path her skirts had taken, up and over her knees, across the warm flesh of her inner thigh, making her tremble.
Holding her breath until the moment he brushed against her damp and silky core, she gasped and closed her eyes.
Immediately, his lips nuzzled the exposed column of her neck while wantonly, she tilted her hips, straining to deepen his too-delicate touch.
Knowing what she wanted, Geoffrey slid a finger between her plump folds, stroking with greater vigor directly where she pulsed.
It took almost no time at all until Caroline was clinging to his shoulders while her body throbbed and tightened. And then, for a few moments, she forgot everything — that she was an earl’s daughter. That she was in a butler’s pantry. That she was a lady who didn’t allow a man to take liberties.
Moaning loudly, she quivered, arching and tightening until a flooding release left her entirely spent.
When his hand stopped touching her, she opened her eyes and looked directly into his vivid blue gaze.
“Dear God!” she exclaimed too loudly.
“I think that came from in there,” said a voice sounding unbelievably like her mother’s.
Terror shot through Caroline, replacing all the ecstasy she’d experienced mere moments before. Shoving desperately at Geoffrey, who hurriedly stepped back, she frantically pushed at her skirts.
When the door opened, she was still sliding down the face of the cabinets, but at least she didn’t appear to have recently had a man nestled between her legs. Regardless, her mother watched the moment her daughter’s feet touched the floor, and then Lord Mangue’s face appeared. There might be others in the hallway for all Caroline knew, but the room was too small to hold them.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lady Chimes demanded.
“We were just talking,” Caroline said. Her voice sounded high and strained to her own ears.
“I am to blame,” Geoffrey said. “Lady Caroline was walking by, and I invited her in here to chat.”
“You are a dog!” Lord Mangue said.
“Is there a dog in my house?” Daphne asked from the hallway, trying to make light of it.
“Be careful what happens here,” Geoffrey warned, speaking only to Lady Chimes. “Your daughter’s reputation and future are at stake.”
“You should have thought of that,” Caroline’s mother said, anger lacing every word.
