Page 42 of The Lyon’s Paw

With a sigh, Geoffrey shook his head. Some people simply could not take no for an answer, even when presented with the bald truth. “You may prefer to ruin your stock, Dandridge, but I will not be so careless. Take my advice and steer clear of my sister—in London, in Middlesex, in the farthest corner of Scotland—leave her alone or face the consequences.”

The long walk back to the modiste’s shop in Grosvenor Square Geoffrey spent brooding over Dandridge, although he’d made his position crystal clear. Dandridge hadn’t said a word as Geoffrey had stalked out, however, when he’d pulled the door shut, he’d caught a glimpse of Dandridge’s face, watching him. Something in that innocuous gaze, however, told him this might not be over yet.

As he neared the modiste’s shop he resolved not to tell his wife about his visit to Dandridge. He didn’t wish to burden her with something she could not help remedy in the least. At least not presently. Although when they returned home, he planned to speak with Joanna to see if she could shed any light on how Dandridge had fixed his misplaced affections on her.

Diana was waiting for him at Mrs. George’s, looking excited and pleased as Punch. As soon as they entered the carriage, she began to chatter. “Just think, Geoffrey, Mrs. George had completed so much! And her measurements were incredibly accurate. There is really little for her to do on each of the gowns so they should all be ready in only another two weeks.” She looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes. “Surely my ankle will be completely healed by the time of Lord Braeton’s Christmas party, Geoffrey? I have so many lovely ball gowns I cannot stand to think I will not be able to dance in them.””

Geoffrey chuckled. His wife would ever be able to distract him from the direst of subjects. “As I have said before, my love, it will all depend on how well your ankle has healed. If all is well, you may dance to your heart’s content. However, we will not know that until the time comes.”

Diana made a face. “I want to be assured, Geoffrey.”

“Well, I’m afraid you will just have to wait with bated breath, my love.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Meanwhile, you must content yourself with telling me about each of your gowns, my love.”

“Truly, my dear?” She raised an eyebrow coquettishly. “I had no idea you were so entranced by today’s fashions.”

“I want to hear every detail so I may imagine what each one looks like on you—and then how you will look as I take each one off you.” Geoffrey was more than happy to contemplate those luscious thoughts instead of the disturbing conversation he’d just had.

“Geoffrey!” Diana smacked his arm playfully and blushed.

He grinned at her, loving that he could put that color in her cheeks. “Did Mrs. George have something already made that fit?” He pointed to the long box laying across their knees as the carriage wound its way home.

“She did, one of the dresses on the mannequin—do you remember the red gown with the low bodice?”

Did he ever. “Yes, I believe I do.”

She patted the box lovingly. “I cannot wait to show it off to you when we get home.”

“That will be quite the treat for me, my dear.” He drew her close to him and kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you wear it to the theatre tonight? I bought tickets to a production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. Would you like to accompany me?”

“Oh, yes, Geoffrey, thank you so much.” She hugged his arm and his groin responded with a huge surge.

Geoffrey almost regretted his purchase of the tickets—the show might have to go on, but it might have to go on without them in the audience. The only place he wished to be at this moment was in bed with his wife. Interesting how a minor brush with Dandridge had his juices flowing as strongly as if he’d taken a powerful aphrodisiac.

Then of course, it was only early afternoon… He might be able to satisfy himself and his wife with plenty of time to spare for dinner and the play. If he could get her to show off the new gown, one thing would certainly lead to another. “We will be home in plenty of time for lunch. Will you show me the new gown before we eat?”

“Of course, my dear.” Diana leaned on his arm, making sweat pop out all over his body, despite the cold. “I shall be happy to. Perhaps we could have lunch sent up to my chambers and we could eat and talk after I show you the gown.”

“That is an excellent idea, love.” Geoffrey wished he could spur the coachman on. “Absolutely scrumptious.”

“Do you like the gown, Geoffrey?” His wife was still showing the garment off to him, although he’d managed to get her to take off the matching pelisse. One less layer for him to have to get rid of. If she didn’t begin to disrobe soon, he’d be forced to jump up and rip the blasted thing off her. But that would upset Diana, who seemed very fond of the gown indeed, so that plan of action could not be implemented. At least not yet.

“Would you like help in getting out of it, my dear. Lunch will be arriving soon.” A ploy only. He planned to delay the actual eating of lunch until much later.

“Yes, would you unlace it, please.” She dutifully turned her back to him and stood still while he commenced with the strings.

He’d gotten extremely proficient in this service in the past weeks. It was a duty he quite enjoyed, especially as it opened the way to all sorts of intimacies that brought them to mutual pleasure and satisfaction every time. As soon as the bodice opened up, he set his lips at the nape of her neck and began to rain kisses down upon the creamy flesh.

“Oh, yes, Geoffrey.” She bared her neck even further, urging him to continue.

Two more laces loosened the gown sufficiently for it to be drawn down her arms until it finally pooled at her feet. Getting rid of the stays and chemise was the work of moments, so Geoffrey could fill his hands with his wife’s creamy breasts. Groaning, he kneaded them, his member stiffening in an instant. Rubbing and gently tweaking her nipples until they hardened, he listened carefully until Diana moaned along with him.

“Oh, Geoffrey, the bed. The bed now.”

Swooping her up, he carried her to the smaller bed the townhouse afforded in the countess’s apartment and slid her into the middle of it. In a frenzy, he tore off the buttons fastening his fall and climbed into bed, without further disrobing.

“Geoffrey! You’re still dressed.” Diana sounded indignant.

“I promise to let you take them off me before we begin again. However, the sight of you in that new gown—and even more so coming out of it—was simply too much for me. You are a temptress, love, in and out of your clothing.” He positioned himself above her, anticipation of entering her hot, sleek body, almost too much for him.