Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,37

of some contraption, most of it made of glass.

Chemistry laboratories seemed to have a great deal of glassware, as evidenced by his sore muscles.

“I suppose you’re going to assemble what’s in that box,” he said.

“Why? Do you think I can’t?”

Her belligerent expression told him it was probably time he admitted something. “I know you can. Any remaining doubt I had concerning your abilities as a chemist vanished somewhere around the time you set up that other complicated piece of laboratory equipment.” He flashed her a faint smile. “And without so much as a list of directions, I might add. I would need directions, at the very least. At home, my servants usually do all the assembling of laboratory equipment.”

He’d expected her to laugh or make some pert remark. Instead, she continued to stand there with her back to him, staring down into the box.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Thorn,” she said. “I greatly appreciate your help this afternoon. But there’s nothing left for you to do now, so you should probably return to the house and dress for dinner.”

He stepped toward her. “Why? Is my presence bothering you?”

“Of course not.” The way she turned her attention to arranging the notebooks she’d already arranged told him differently. “I just don’t want to keep you from your family.”

Walking up behind her, he murmured, “I spend time with my family often enough. But in all these years, you and I have not once encountered each other in society since our initial meeting. And I like encountering you. Talking to you.” He laid a hand on her waist, giving her plenty of time to move away. “Touching you.”

She dragged in a heavy breath but remained where she was. Taking that as an invitation, he slid his other arm about her waist to pull her closer so he could kiss her temple. When her pulse quickened beneath his lips, he was emboldened to kiss her ear. Then the nape of her neck.

“God, you always smell so good. How do you manage it?”

“With perfume,” she said lightly. “How else?”

He bit back a laugh. Most women pretended they didn’t use anything—that their scent was utterly natural. “And I suppose you make your own.”

“O-Of course.” When he licked her ear, it took her a moment to go on, in a rather breathy voice. “Perfumers are m-merely chemists with . . . different ingredients at their . . . disposal.”

“Like French chefs making salads,” he murmured.

“I-If you w-wish.”

What he wished was to touch her in more intimate ways, no matter how his mind screamed it was unwise. She felt so bloody good in his arms. Still, Grey would never forgive him if she took umbrage and left the estate in a huff.

But Thorn didn’t think she would. Leaving in a huff wasn’t her mode of behavior.

So he raised the hand he’d placed on her waist until it rested on the side of one breast. And when her only reaction was to sigh, he took the daring next step of covering her breast with his hand.

“Good . . . heavens . . .” she whispered.

He fondled her breast gently, shamelessly. “You like that, do you?”

“Oh, yes.” Then she paused. “That is . . . what I meant was . . .”

“Never deny that you enjoy pleasure. Unless you truly don’t.”

Her redingote gown was lighter than most dresses of that fashion, but between it and her stays, he couldn’t feel her nipple. And he badly wanted to. So he began unbuttoning her redingote where it was closed in the front.

She stiffened. “Wh-What are you doing now?”

“I want to caress you inside your gown.” He lowered his voice. “If you’ll allow it.”

After a moment’s hesitation she whispered, “All right.”

His blood leapt at her answer, and then leapt even higher when he delved inside her gown and then inside one flimsy cup of her stays to cup her breast. As he began to fondle her through the thin linen of her shift, she gasped. He kneaded her breast, then thumbed her nipple, reveling in how it knotted up. And the little broken sigh she gave was almost as erotic as the feel of her ample breast in his hand.

God, he was growing hard. He hoped she couldn’t feel his thickening cock against her backside. Then again, it wasn’t as if he could hide it.

Her bosom was so responsive to his touch that he craved even more. A chance to taste her.

Now in a fever to cross that new threshold, he turned her to face him.