Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) (16 page)

“Naughty!” she scolded with a happy little gasp, blushing as she slapped him lightly on the thigh.

Which took him aback and delighted him at the same time.

She seemed to have surprised herself, also. “Ahem, as I was saying,” she continued, “I want it to be nice and bright and airy in here, and I need to get rid of all these knickknacks. They only gather dust and make me sneeze.” She tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear as she chattered away. “You must give me your opinion on several of my choices.”

He watched and listened to her, entranced.

“After all, you have an excellent eye, Jason. There’s no point denying it, now that I have been to your artists’ house. I had fun yesterday, by the way,” she added, elbowing him fondly.

“As did I.”

Odd,
he thought. Miserable as he had felt just a short while ago, now all was right with the world again. And once more, his gaze strayed down to Felicity’s sweet lips.

So
very tempting.

He swallowed hard, dragged his stare away, and loosely clasped his hands to keep from reaching for her, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Where’s the Brown today?” he asked, striving for levity despite his rather strangled tone. Craving the ripened, charming woman beside him, he stared blindly at the printed booklet of various chairs for sale.

“With the ladies’ altar guild. They’re planning their next charity effort.”

“Ah.”

“What have you been doing today?” she asked pertly.

He shook his head. “Not much.”

He did not like lying to her, but she seemed to read in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Very well. So tell me which of these two fabrics you like better, then. Don’t mock, this is serious business! For you see, you’ve inspired me with a marvelous new quest, Jason.”

“I have? That one,” he added, pointing at the subtle, pale brocade.

“Oh, good, that’s the one I like, too!”

“What quest?” he inquired.

“Aha, well, once I’ve brought my house up into the first stare of fashion, I mean to begin holding salons and musicales here, much like the Pelletiers, only on a much smaller scale, of course,” she hastened to add.

He studied her in wonder. “Really?”

She nodded eagerly.

He pondered this, thunderstruck, for despite his love of the arts, he had never contemplated such a notion before. All of a sudden, it seemed wonderfully obvious, a tiny glimmer of what was possible if he were married someday.

To the right lady.

He and his duchess could arrange pleasant evenings for their friends, just like Lord and Lady Pelletier did…

“Oh, dear. No response.” Her face fell. “You hate my idea? Is it too presumptuous?”

“No, it’s brilliant. Can I help?” he asked, giving her a boyish bump with his shoulder.

She looked delighted. “Certainly, i-if you like! You could host it with m— Oh, but I suppose that would be too shocking for Society. They’d take it wrong, wouldn’t they? Especially with…you being, well,
you
.”

“Mmm,” he admitted in dismay.

“You do know they call you the Duke of Scandal, right? Naughty Netherford?”

He twisted his lips at the nickname, dismayed she’d heard it, though God knew he’d earned it.

She laughed at his rueful expression. “It doesn’t bother me! You’ll just have to be my silent partner, then. My right-hand man. Nothing official, nothing for people to gossip about. But your job will be to help lure important guests to my grand occasions! Before you know it, I’ll be all the kick.”

“You already are, love.”

“That’s not me, that’s the money. But thanks anyway.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Count me in.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, then looked away, adorably pink-cheeked. “That reminds me of something else I wanted to ask you about. Do you think your
Signore
Sanfratello would make me a small statue or figurine to fit in the alcove over there? Nothing excessive, of course, I just have the perfect spot for it.” She pointed toward the left wall of the parlor. “I would love to have one of his works here to admire all the time.”

“Then you shall. It will be my housewarming gift to you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!”

“I’m his patron and your friend. And I’m happy for you, getting this inheritance. It seems like it’s rather changed your life. Though, to be honest, I daresay it’s a lot of trouble to go to, remodeling this place, when I doubt you’ll live here very long.”

She cocked her head. “Why do you say that?”

“Suitors banging down your door. Half of London angling to snare you. Mark my words, you’ll be wedded and bedded and living elsewhere by the time the Season’s over. And then I won’t get to visit you anymore or people will talk,” he said in a studied tone of wry humor to mask his dismay as the realization unfolded. “They’ll say we’re having a tryst. Then your husband will call me out. And it’ll all end in tragedy, and perhaps they’ll make a musical about it.”

“No doubt. Unless I marry
you
,” she blurted out cheerfully.

He arched a brow.

“Or not.” She turned red and immediately dropped her gaze to the catalog, turning a page. “I mean, it does seem a good solution at first glance, so we could both be a part of my little project. But you’re right. Being married to the Duke of Scandal sounds very inconvenient, and besides, nobody’s life turns out the way they planned at eight years old. That’s just silly.”

She flashed a blithe smile, turning to him, and her wicked gaze dipped to his lips. “Well! Since it seems the clock is ticking before—as you say—I’m married off to some
very
lucky man and the two of us are not allowed to play together anymore, I suppose we’d best enjoy it while we can, hmm?”

“Yes,” he said warily, his pulse thundering. He had not expected that vixenish answer.

To be sure, his friend’s little sister was all grown up now and very much a woman. In truth, his head was rather spinning at the deft circles she was running round him, emotionally speaking.

What the hell is going on?

And what exactly was she suggesting when she’d said
we should enjoy it while we can
?

And what of this other claim, that being married to him would be too “inconvenient” for her? What was that supposed to mean?

He was suddenly unsure if he was offended or relieved, but he was certainly confused.

“Oh, have I shocked you, Your Grace? You must think me very naughty,” she whispered, laying her hand on his thigh.

He looked down at it, and then at her, instantly on fire. The minx was toying with him, and he found her utterly irresistible.

For a long moment, he sat stock-still, fighting what he wanted and panicking slightly to feel the chains of his resistance falling away. He wasn’t sure he was ready to let them go.

“Felicity,” he said in a strangled tone.

“Yes, Jason?” she breathed.

“You shouldn’t be touching me.”

“I’ve heard that song before. It didn’t work then, either. Did it?” She began inching her hand slowly up his thigh. Just like she’d done to the Hades statue. “You want me to believe that you prefer me as a good girl…all prim and proper?”

You little hellion.
His heart slammed in his chest.

“Stop me if you don’t like it,” she whispered, daring him with those stormy sea-green eyes.

Passion blazed through his body; the need was too strong. When he dragged his gaze up from the pretty hand creeping up his thigh and looked at her again, the impulse got away from him.

Suddenly—not sure what he was doing but past caring—he leaned in and claimed her mouth with years’ worth of ravenous need.

# # #

Finally. Oh God…

Having only just saved the situation with a change of subject—namely, some brash flirting to cover up her blunder of mentioning marriage to the consummate rakehell—Felicity barely dared move, treasuring the wild, fevered caress of his lips taking hers.

At long last.

When a person dreams of a thing for years, yearns for it with every inch of her body and every beat of her heart, it is easy to be overwhelmed when the moment finally comes to exquisite fruition.

Jason’s kiss was that dream for her, and it nearly made her fall apart. Its sudden crashing into reality made her body throb like the white-hot birth of a star.

Her heart raced with the impossible thrill of knowing that, in this moment, she finally had her idol’s
full
attention. She wanted to slow time and savor every second of it, but crazed want pounded in her veins, and Jason’s kiss was frantic. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap while his tongue plunged into her mouth like he would consume her.

Felicity clung to him in trembling excitement, overwhelmed with pleasure. God, he could’ve had her right there on the couch in the middle of the daytime if he wished it.

It shook her, facing how much she really craved him. Because deep down, she feared this still meant nothing to him. That she would ultimately prove just another female to him, or worse, he would suddenly find his little conscience once more, push her away completely, and break her foolish heart a second time.

And yet, even knowing the danger she was in, she couldn’t make herself stop kissing him back.

She wanted this too badly. She slid her hand around his nape and opened her mouth for him, following his lead.

He groaned her name with such despair amid the deep, delicious licking of his kiss that, with one arm draped around his neck, she melted against his big, muscled body. Every inch of her had gone sweetly heavy with desire, yet with her other hand, she stroked his face in reverent longing as he went on kissing her.

I love you so much.

As her trembling fingers molded the angle of his chiseled jaw and explored the warm smoothness of his clean-shaven cheeks, she did not want to admit it to herself. But there was no getting round it. There had never been anybody else for her and there never would be. If Cousin Gerald was right in calling her a spinster, it was all Netherford’s fault.

As his tongue swirled in the depths of her mouth, he gently pressed the small of her back, pulling her closer still, gathering her to him. She went eagerly as he guided her astride him, moving onto her knees to straddle his lap, her hands planted on his broad shoulders.

He hitched her skirts up a little to make it easier for her to move. “Are we really doing this?” she panted, staring into his eyes. They had darkened to midnight with desire.

“It would seem so,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Thank God.”

“It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” he whispered.

She lowered her head in answer and claimed his mouth with the utmost enthusiasm. Perhaps she was acting fast, but he seemed to have no problem with it, welcoming her without a word to do as she pleased to him. He leaned against the back of the sofa, thighs sprawled, his hands molding to the curve of her waist.

She kissed him fiercely, oblivious to anything but his mouth, his hands, his skin. She had him pinned down now, all to herself, and he wasn’t getting away. With her tongue in his mouth, she reveled in the delicious taste of him, not caring about propriety, not even listening to the soft footfalls as the maid returned.

The footsteps stopped outside the doorway; the door creaked and then clicked closed to leave them their privacy.

Jason moaned, apparently taken off guard by her wanton response. On her knees across his lap, she was delighted to feel his strong, smooth hands sliding down her back. He grasped her hips, then she drew in her breath sharply as he gripped her backside hard through the fluffy layers of her skirts and petticoat.

He gave both cheeks a roguish squeeze. She laughed breathlessly, rocked against him. He nuzzled her breasts, and then used his lower position to start kissing her throat.

He made her dizzy with delight. “Oh, Jason.”

She clung to him, quivering as his lips roamed up the curve of her neck to her earlobe.

“You taste so good, my darling Felicity,” he whispered as he licked and kissed her neck. “Better than I dreamed.”

She ran her fingers through his sable hair, loosening the light, stiff hold of the clean-smelling stuff that he used to slick it back. But this was only fair, since he had messed up her hair, too. He now brought it tumbling around her shoulders as he stole the combs that had been holding it up. With a slight, expert tug, he even robbed her of the ribbon serving as her headband. She countered by likewise untying his cravat.

“There. That’s better,” she whispered, undoing his top button and then sliding her hand into the intriguing region of his neck usually hidden by the collar of his shirt. It was lovely. She bent and kissed it.

He cradled her head against the crook of his neck, clearly enjoying this as much as she was; however, having loosed her hair, and certainly her instincts, he pulled back just a little to admire her with her hair down.

His stare was intense as he studied her, as though for the first time. “You really are
so
damned beautiful.”

She dropped her gaze modestly.

He smiled at her blush and then pulled her down for another kiss. She did not know how the man could be so calm. She was going out of her mind with tingling sensations she had never experienced before, feelings that made her want to ride him like a horse. He did not seem at all surprised by this; indeed, the gentle pressure of his hand at the small of her back welcomed her without a word to do so. It guided her down to rest astraddle him, their bodies flush.

For his part, he sat up straighter, kissing her sweetly, nibbling her lips, and teaching her the marvelous results of what happened in her body when she moved against him just so.

“Oh
my
.” The dizzy whisper escaped her.