Noble Scoundrel - Amy Sandas Page 0,74
stubborn annoyance.
“This changes everything,” he growled. “I will train you because it’s a good idea.” He slid his hands lower to press his fingers into the soft flesh of her buttocks. “But you and I are going to finish what we started on this floor. If nothing else, trust in that, duchess,” he added ominously.
She held still for another moment as she stared intently into his face, seeking and assessing. In that moment, when he most wanted to see her thoughts, she finally managed to shield them from him. He waited for a quick retort or a simple flat denial. But she said nothing at all.
When she shifted her weight and began to stand, he did not prevent her from doing so.
Mason lifted himself up on his elbows to watch her cross the room. The fierce pride in her movements as she slipped on the waistcoat held him enthralled. What the hell was it about this woman that fascinated him so damned much?
Grasping the handle of the unlocked door, she paused before opening it. Tossing her braid over her shoulder, she looked back at him. The way her attention swept over his sprawled form to finally rest on his still-aching erection had his breath stalling in his chest.
But then, without a word, she turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Mason dropped back to lie flat on the floor and stare at the mural of robed saints and frolicking cherubs painted on the ceiling above him. It was a long time before he managed to haul himself to his feet and make his way up to his room.
Chapter Twenty-three
Once back in her bedroom, Katherine called for a bath before quickly removing her clothes and dressing in a robe. She had barely forty minutes before lunch with Frederick, and the scent of Hale’s sweat on her skin still mingled with hers. It was a heady, potent combination that made her belly twist and her knees weaken.
With a firm shake of her head, she began to unravel her braid just as the servants arrived to set up the bath.
Perhaps she shouldn’t think about what had just happened in the ballroom. Just as she’d tried not to think of the kiss that had occurred the night before. Of course, she’d failed miserably at the latter since she’d lain awake nearly all night reliving every sensation—every decadent taste and sound—of those moments.
Despite her sleepless night, she’d gone to the ballroom thinking she’d be able to keep thoughts of the kiss from intruding. She told herself it had been a one-time, reckless occurrence that was unlikely to be repeated.
How wrong she’d been. And she wasn’t the slightest bit mad about it.
Exhilarated. Confused. And utterly overwhelmed. But certainly not mad.
As soon as the servants left and she was alone again, she dropped her robe to the floor and lowered herself into the steaming, scented water. She would have loved to lean back against the slanted edge of the tub, close her eyes, and soak up a bit of the calming warmth. But she didn’t have the time.
Instead, she reached for the soap and quickly lathered it into a thick foam that she worked through her hair. While scrubbing her scalp, she wondered how on earth she’d manage to face Hale again after what she’d allowed. No—after what she’d practically demanded of him.
Heat burned in her cheeks.
Every effort she’d employed to maintain a proper level of authority over his position as Frederick’s bodyguard had been completely forgotten the moment he’d rolled her beneath him on the floor. The pleasure of it—the pure basic craving of body to body—had taken over. She’d acted on instinct. And everything in her had clamored for his touch, his kiss, his strength, and his possession.
She’d balked at the term surrender, but in retrospect, she couldn’t deny there had been an element of submission to what she’d experienced. Submission to her own desire, to his obvious and equal hunger, to the needs of the moment. With his mouth moving over her skin, there had been no way to deny or resist how wonderful and right it had felt.
A groan slid from her throat as she recalled the delicious way he moved between her legs, and she quickly dunked under the water to rinse her hair and her mind. When she came back up for air, her hair was free of suds but her thoughts remained in riotous turmoil.
Roughly squeezing the water from her hair before twisting it into a bun