Page 48

“Yes.” He eyed her. “You cannot seriously think to encourage that pup. He is barely grown.”

“I… he…” Mei sputtered; she did not intend to encourage the younger Mr. Fenley, and yet she did not want to agree with the duke either. “That is entirely beside the point. Your main interest in me is that I am utterly inappropriate for a wife. This… these feelings between us are merely because we are fighting them, whereas you may indulge in whatever feelings you like with the other young ladies.”

Did that make sense? She felt as though she was doing a poor job of explaining herself.

“That is wildly untrue.”

“It is true, and I can prove it to you.” Utterly annoyed, Mei decided to show him—and herself—that the desire between them was a mirage. Reaching up to grasp his face in her hands, she leaned in and kissed him before she could lose her courage.

It should have been like kissing Johnny Bowers—a disappointing letdown that left her with the harsh reality that the fantasy had been far more appealing than the real thing.

Instead, the moment their lips touched, it was as though wildfire raced through her body. The sensation of his lips against hers, warm and firm, was heady enough, but then he parted his lips, and she felt her mouth move as well, her mind reeling from the dizzy shock.

I was wrong.

This was nothing like kissing Johnny Bowers.

Realizing the danger, Mei was about to pull back when the duke made a noise deep in his throat, and she found herself being hauled across the bench to him. Their hips pressed together, his hands sliding around her back, and her own hands ended up on his chest rather than his face as he deepened the kiss. Heat and need unfurled inside her, and she pressed her thighs together.

These were the kinds of feelings her friends spoke of in hushed, giggling whispers. The ache in her core, the urge to squirm, to rub. Her heart was beating faster in her chest than a hummingbird’s wings, and she felt so lightheaded that she might float away if not for his arms holding her against him.

His tongue slid against hers, invading her mouth, letting her taste him as he did the same to her. Mei kissed him back, inexpertly but passionately, moving her hands up the broad muscle of his chest to his shoulders, then up into his hair. His fingers tightened their grip around her waist, and she broke off the kiss with a shuddering gasp.

They stared at each other in the moonlight, his dark eyes blazing.

“I regret to inform you that you are wrong,” he murmured. “My desire to indulge with you has only grown.”

As had hers, leaving her entirely breathless. She could feel the cool air across the top of her bosom as it heaved. While she was not very well endowed, the feeling that she might breathe in deeply enough to spill out of her dress was suddenly very real. Her breasts felt swollen. Achy. As if she wanted him to touch them.

Oh, goodness… she wanted him to touch her all over.

“I… perhaps it will pass?” she responded breathlessly, though they were still holding each other, and the desire did not feel as though it was passing at all. Perhaps they had not gone far enough. She was older than when she had kissed Johnny Bowers. The duke was far more experienced than that young man had been.

Men had mistresses, lovers, ladybirds… their affections could be quite fleeting. Of course, she’d also seen the lasting relationships, but it was always among those of the same social set. Even the men who professed to love their mistress did not necessarily mean that in a committal way.

Just look at Delilah, who thought Zachary was going to propose, only to have him step away from her and their love for propriety’s sake. Even though he clearly still loved her. Love was not enough when a duke was supposed to marry a debutante.

But…

Mei wanted something for herself. Some little selfish part of her wanted her own match, just for a short period of time.

Why not?

Such arrangements were hardly uncommon within the ton.

The ladies she had chosen for the duke to meet at this house party were not to his liking. She would not be taking anything away from her client. When they returned to London, they would no longer be in the same house. She could return to the capital and her usual life but with more knowledge about what there could be between a man and a woman and therefore, a husband and wife.

“You think this will pass?” The duke’s fingers caressed her, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Eventually.” Mei shifted closer. “But perhaps we should enjoy it while we are here.”

His eyebrows rose.

“I will not be your mistress,” she said very firmly.

“Yes, I believe that has already been established.”

Mei ignored the amusement in his voice.