When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,45

her beautiful? Oh, how she wanted to believe it. Yet surely nothing could be more perilous.

She lowered her eyes, but that was a mistake, for her gaze landed on the strong column of his throat. The absence of a cravat gave a tantalizing glimpse of his chest revealed by the open collar of his shirt. How she longed to touch him, to caress his bare skin. Beset by wayward desire, she looked up again to find him watching her, the ghost of a smile on his face.

Nothing could have been better designed to melt her than that tender look. She leaned infinitesimally closer, and his arms came around her, clasping her to his firm chest. His gaze scorched hers as a visceral heat flashed between them. He brought his head down, his mouth hovering just above hers, his breath warm and inviting. Succumbing to temptation, Tessa arose on tiptoe to meet him halfway.

At the first touch of their lips, fire seared her veins. On some hazy level, she knew she oughtn’t allow him such liberties. Yet need outweighed wisdom, and she looped her arms around his neck. How tall and muscled he was, how dizzy and excited he made her feel. It was an enthralling experience to be held by Carlin and kissed with such ardor. The world faded away until there existed only the two of them, taking pleasure in each other.

It seemed utterly natural when his tongue slipped inside her mouth to play with hers. Desire flourished, spreading its honeyed heat throughout her insides. She moaned in her throat. Never had she known that a kiss could be so intimate—or that her body could respond with such passionate eagerness.

One of his hands was flattened to the back of her waist, holding her close against him, while the other played with the sensitive skin at her nape. All the while she returned his kiss with vibrant delight. Just then, she felt his fingers surrounding her breast. When his thumb stroked across the tip, the thrill generated by his touch made her shiver with the intense desire for something more, a longing to feel his caress beneath her gown, moving over her bare skin. She craved a surrender so forbidden that it snapped her back to her senses.

Shaken to the core, Tessa arched back and thrust at his chest. Even then it took a moment before he lifted his head to regard her in a daze. His passion-glazed eyes cleared, and at once he loosened his hold on her.

She retreated a few steps, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Her mind was in such a tumult that she felt on the verge of a swoon. Shock at her own foolishness made her voice tremble. “Lud! I won’t … you mustn’t…”

Carlin reached out as if to touch her again, then raked his fingers through his hair instead. “Tessa.” His gaze focused on her, he took a deep breath. “I ought not to have done that. Pray forgive me.”

She believed him to be sincere. Neither of them had planned that kiss. Yet it had happened nonetheless and the power of her craving for him made it all the more disturbing.

“I wanted it, too, Your Grace, so you needn’t apologize.” She used the formal address purposefully to remind herself of his high rank. “But it must never happen again.”

He nodded curtly. “Never.”

They stared at each other, and her heart thrummed at the fire still smoldering in his eyes. She felt that same fire, too, much to her chagrin. In defiance of good sense, she ached to be in his arms again and to let him do with her as he willed.

She swallowed. “It’s best that I return to the nursery.”

Carlin made no reply as she pivoted on her heel and fled the library. Her last view of him from the doorway was of his brooding figure standing in the shadows. His aura of solitude struck a pang in her heart. He had lost his wife and numerous close relatives, cut himself off from society for years, and returned home only to find that his young daughter despised him.

But none of that should matter. It was perilous to view the duke as an ordinary man in need of love. He was her employer, not her suitor.

In near-darkness, Tessa hastened up the servants’ staircase. She had forgotten her candle and Robinson Crusoe, much to her dismay. Reading would have provided a distraction from her churning emotions.

She undressed by moonlight and climbed into bed, though the