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“Had I not been arranging for Willard’s downfall,” he continued, "if necessary, I would have shattered D'Acre House's door to get to you as soon as I realized.”
She imagined him bursting into the mirrored hall and then imagined the poor porter’s face. Gentle stirrings of amusement returned, and a soft chuckle escaped her lips.
“William, the porter, would have taken great umbrage,” she said.
He smiled. “A figure of speech. I wouldn’t have done anything so rash.”
“I know you wouldn’t have.”
He placed yet another kiss to her temple. Still, she could accept a thousand more.
She turned her face into his neck and inhaled his steady, man-scented presence. Again she relished the feeling of being secure.
Vaguely, she became aware she’d missed an important point. “Did I just hear you say you’d been ‘arranging for Willard’s downfall’?”
“Legal downfall.” He paused. “Willard never changed, but he now uses more complicated tools. And to his detriment, if my plans come to fruition.”
“I suspected you had a plan.” He always did.
She leaned into him; the last of her tension melted away. He was so solid, so muscled, so warm and so—
She glanced up. “Are you peeking down my bodice?!”
He made a sound that was half-chuckle, half-groan. “I couldn’t help myself. Your breasts are right there, and they’re...” His voice faded, but she recognized the glint in his eye.
“Larger, I know.” She glanced down at her chest. “Sadly, I don’t fit some of my clothes. This dress is Millie’s. As are the stays.”
He teasingly recoiled. “Do you mean to tell me you stole your sister’s dress?”
“Borrowed,” she corrected with a small, equally teasing smile.
He became mockingly stern. “The same way Eliza borrowed my stablehand’s coat?”
She let out a laugh. “I’d forgotten about that. Apparently, we’re all sartorial sneaks.”
“Possibly even criminal.”
“Certainly devious.”
Devious enough to bribe, borrow, and steal. And, perhaps, with the right inducement, make use of Barker’s bed?
She glanced over at the pillows.
They had already wasted too much time. She wanted to be close again. Carnally close.
She moved her hand a little fartherup his thigh.
He made a sound almost like a growl, but gentler and infused with desire.
“Perhaps we should remove the evidence?” she suggested.
The heat in his gaze was a welcome sensation. As his breath gently brushed her cheek, needs stirred within her, too.
Carefully she walked her fingers up his chest. “Since I am already utterly compromised and ruined beyond repair...”
“Not ruined,” he contradicted.
“Yes, ruined.” She expelled a long breath. “If not in Society, at least for all other men.”
