Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,7
He wanted to undress her, sink into her body, and make her his. His arousal ached in his trousers. Slowly he slid to the ground, snagging his velvet jacket on the stones of the building. He buried his head in his hands. Good God, he didn’t even know her, yet his reaction to her was one he had never expected. He hadn’t thought there was anything new to experience with women.
* * *
He had been wrong.
When Lily reached the front entrance to the mansion, she leaned against the doorway before entering, her pulse racing. Her legs trembled as she forced them to bear her weight. She tried to regain her composure, but after a few moments, she realized it was a lost cause. All she could think of was his silky blond hair between her fingers, his soft full lips on her neck and between her breasts, his tongue exploring her mouth. His ravishment had permeated every cell of her body, centering in the damp heat between her legs. The sensation alarmed her, but she wanted more. More of him. God help her, she had enjoyed it.
She forced back a shudder and opened the front door. Lily walked until she found the ladies’ retiring area. She entered and sat down on a stool to view her reflection in the looking glass.
Her lips were swollen and dark from the duke’s passionate kisses. Her hair had come through fairly well, although it was a bit disheveled. Her hands still shaking, she fussed at it until she felt it acceptable. Dear God! Her breasts were pink and swollen and about to tumble out of her dress. She warmed as she remembered the sweet tickle of the duke’s tongue in her cleavage. She fidgeted with her bodice, tucking her bosom back in as far as the cut would allow. Had she asked for this? Thomas hadn’t approved of her low cut gown.
When another woman entered the room, Lily nearly jumped off her stool.
“My dear, are you quite all right?”
The dark-haired woman wore a pale blue gown that showed a lot of bosom. She was tall and pretty. Lily didn’t recognize her.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Forgive my rudeness. I’m Lady Amelia Gregory. And you are?
“Lily. Lady Lily Jameson.”
“Of course, Lord Ashford’s daughter. What a lovely thing you are. It’s a pleasure.”
“The pleasure’s mine.” Lily stood, still a bit dizzy, and turned. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Not so fast.” Lady Gregory reached out and touched Lily’s arm.
“I beg your pardon?” Lily yanked her arm away.
“It may interest you to know that I saw you in a compromising position with His Grace a few moments ago.”
Lily forced back a swallow and tried to sound nonchalant. “That doesn’t particularly interest me.”
“No doubt you’re wondering why he grabbed you as he did.” Lady Gregory smiled and let out a little yawn. “You see, he mistook you for me. It was rather dark outside, and you and I seem to be of similar size and coloring. He asked me to meet him there.”
“And you went willingly?”
“Of course.” Lady Gregory sat down on a chaise longue and smoothed her skirts. “My, you’re an innocent one. He and I were going to get—shall we say—reacquainted this evening. We haven’t seen each other since he left for the continent a year ago.”
Who was this woman? That smile was so fake. Lily blew out a breath. “And I should find relevance in this statement because?”
“I can see I may have underestimated you, dear.” Lady Gregory patted the seat next to her. “Believe, me the duke made a mistake. He’s not at all interested in you.”
Lily remained standing. “He seemed interested to me.” Her heart lurched as she remembered how the duke had pulled her back into his embrace after he had seen her face.
“As I told you, he mistook you for me.”
Lily gave a terse smile. “Well, I couldn’t care less anyway. I’m not the least bit interested in him.”
“Of course you’re not.” Lady Gregory’s acid tone was sardonic. “This must be your first season. No young debutante would want to land the Duke of Lybrook. How foolish of me to think it. Well, get it out of your mind. You’re not going to stand in my way of becoming a duchess.”
Lily let out a breathy chortle. “I have no interest in becoming a duchess. If you were acquainted with me at all, you would know the truth of that.”
“Forgive me if I have a difficult time believing you, dear.”