Page 14 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

In one fell swoop, she’d stolen his chance to find out who was responsible for stealing his family fortune…and caused the end of his betrothal.

Roderick would not allow Lucianna to continue unscathed.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noted their proximity to the terrace. Happy to see that a few more people had joined the crowd watching them. From this distance, he and Lady Lucianna likely appeared in a loving embrace—a couple in the midst of a tender moment. However, they did not feel Lucianna’s tense posture in his arms. They could not see the frown she turned on him. There was no way they saw the sparks of anger shooting from her glare.

“May I go, Your Grace?” she seethed, attempting to take a step back.

The woman was beautiful—an exotic, midnight rose.

But her hoyden ways and senseless destruction of his life were not acceptable.

Roderick pulled her close, causing her glare to snap back to his, her mouth opening in an O of surprise.

Yes, a lesson could prove very beneficial for Lady Lucianna in tamping her wayward tendencies.

And Roderick may be the best gentleman to do it.

He leaned down and took her mouth, his lips settling against hers.

Gauging her reaction, she did not pull away nor did her compressed lips soften under his. Roderick waited. If she jerked away, he would not stop her—he was not a brute. To his delight, she melted into him after only a brief moment, and he parted his lips, their mouths joining in a rhythmic dance of push and pull, give and take, exploration and conquest.

Everything around him faded away.

His entire body heated with the sensual movement of their caress.

When he ran his tongue across her bottom lip, her mouth blessedly parted, allowing him to explore further. He would show her how it felt to be trifled with, to have one’s weakness discovered and exposed.

Tentatively at first, Roderick slid his tongue between her lips to taste her.

Honeysuckle and fruit berry. She was pure sweetness.

Everything about the night surrounding them faded to a distant memory.

He pulled her closer as his tongue set a rhythm with hers, much as their lips had, their bodies pressed tightly from knees to chest.

Lucianna fit perfectly against him—not too short, not too willowy.

His arm loosened, falling to cup her bottom as his other left her chin to rest on her neck, her skin soft as the finest cotton to his touch. In the moment, Roderick didn’t long to have her—as had been the case at Bentley’s—he needed her close to survive. Better yet, he craved to have every soft inch of her pressed against every hard line of his body.

His body was not only warm, it was on fire.

Lucianna pushed closer to him, demanding more, and Roderick gave it.

His entire body throbbed with need. Need for her.

The intensity grew to the height of severe pain.

Suddenly, his eyes sprang open as his tongue throbbed.

The blasted woman had bitten him—drew his tongue deep into her mouth and clamped her jaw shut.

His arms were suddenly empty, and the night breeze cast cool air upon his heated face. He stood alone, watching Lucianna flee down a path that ran parallel to the back of the house.

She paused several yards away. The woman would return. She would beg his forgiveness, and the entire wretched situation would resolve itself. Though he sensed his pride had taken the biggest hit.

Instead of making her way back to him, she settled her hands on her hips, her anger evident even from this far away despite the dim night and the barest illumination the moon cast on her.

“Your rakehell ways and heavy-handed manners will not prove my downfall, you scoundrel!” Her shout echoed across the space between them and rose up into the night as if the stars above sought to memorize her accusation and rain it down upon any woman who gained a familiarity with the Duke of Montrose.