He had not had a clear plan in mind when he had entered the bookshop behind the two women. Or when he had grabbed Caro. He had thought a kiss or two, maybe. A quick press of bodies against each other. A tweak of a nipple. Something to relieve his lust for her temporarily. Something to entice her to let him do more at some future time, behind some closed door. He would improvise and see what she would allow. After all, hadn’t she told him she didn’t want him to be good? She certainly hadn’t wanted his company at the exhibition with a chaperone, all proprieties being observed.
But for her to demand he take her, for her to seize his cock and balls . . . incredible. Oh, the danger of it. But the greatest danger, of course, was now, right now, with her clutching climax, her walls still wrapped around his aching phallus, her contractions trying to force him to come as well.
To be inside her as she reached her peak was everything he had imagined it would be when she had come under the rub of his finger in his bed in her father’s house. Oh, why had he not brought a French letter with him today? So he could do what every bit of his most primitive nature was demanding he do and explode inside of her as she grabbed at him with her own sex.
But he had not come prepared. He had not thought there was any possibility this would happen.
And then the taste of her womanly juices asshepenetratedhim, his mouth, with her fingers. Oh. Hell. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He withdrew just in time.
He didn’t get any on her dress or on his trousers. That was a blessing. He grinned up at her but she was looking down at the floor, frowning. And now she was stooping and picking up the reticule she had dropped when he had grabbed her.
Wait. She was taking out a handkerchief and crouching to clean the floor.
“Oh, no, darling, don’t do that.” He stooped down and put his hand under her chin and kissed her lovely plum-colored lips before she started. “Let Phin get his fall buttoned up and he’ll take care of that.”
She stared at him, as imperturbable as ever. “You will?”
“Yes, I will, Caro. You stand up now.”
She stood with seeming reluctance and moved out of the corner. Light from a window fell on her as she replaced her handkerchief into her reticule, and he saw she was utterly unruffled. Not a drop of sweat beaded her forehead. Her hair was still arranged as it had been. Indeed, except for a few wrinkles in the front of her dress and the slightest flush to the lustrous skin of her face, there was no evidence this woman had just given him the fuck of his life.
And then she was gone, down the stairs, with not a look back. Not another word.
How perfect she was.
And how perfectly ironic it was that the Earl of Burchester found himself on his knees, his large handkerchief in his hand, wiping his own emissions from the floorboards. He wasn’t really sure what ironic meant exactly, but wasn’t this it? Maybe?
When he had told Caro he would take care of the mess, he hadn’t really meant he would get down and clean it up himself. He had some vague idea he would arrange for someone else to do it. But, of course, that was impossible. And she had seen that right away.
He grinned. He wouldn’t mind at all if his future included a great deal more kneeling, or for that matter, irony, as long as it was a future that also included Lady Caroline Haskett.
Fourteen
Two floors down, in the part of the bookshop which held volumes of poetry, a man with hair the color of honey stood in front of Lady Lutton. He was about Caroline’s height and clearly a gentleman from his fine clothing. He broke off speaking immediately when he saw Caroline. He did not allow an introduction or make a formal bow. Instead, nodding his head in brief acknowledgement, he quickly made his way to the stairs that would take him down to the ground floor.
“Where did you go, Lady Caroline?” Lady Lutton clutched Caroline’s arm. Her face was red, her voice anxious. Surely, Caroline’s short absence should not cause this degree of alarm.
“T-t-top floor.”
“You mustn’t leave my side. I know you are used to a degree of liberty, having lived in the country for so long, but your brother would not want you to be alone in a shop.”
“I w-w-won’t tell him.”
“I don’t want to be the cause of any secrets between you and your brother. I will tell him about my dereliction of my duty. Oh, I hope he’ll forgive me.”
“I’ll tell him I was in the wrong.”
“I should not have allowed myself to be distracted by reading. After all, I am the chaperone. Oh, this is horrible.” Her grip tightened on Caroline’s arm.
Lady Lutton was working herself up into a state. But she could have no earthly idea what Caroline had actually been doing on the top floor. It must have been the blond man who had discomfited Lady Lutton so.
“Don’t worry, my b-b-brother will not let you go. I won’t let him.”
“He would be well within his rights to.” Lady Lutton took a deep breath. “I will hope he doesn’t.”
Caroline longed to ask her the name of the blond man, but she did not want to upset Lady Lutton further. Who could he be to her? Lady Lutton had said she had no attachments, but could the man be a hopeful suitor of some kind?
Please, no. Her brother could not compete with a handsome blond man who dressed like a dandy. Just as Caroline could not compete with a shapely blonde viscountess. And she had no intention of doing so. None whatsoever.
