Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,20

kissed the same way angels surely did.

He nibbled her lower lip, another strange behavior that made her go all hot inside. “You mustn’t read too much into this,” he whispered.

Ignoring the pang those words gave her, she whispered back, “Neither should you.”

“Just because I like kissing you doesn’t mean I—”

“More kissing,” she muttered. “Less talking.”

With a chuckle, he drew her over to a bench where they’d be hidden from view if anyone came into the garden. That should have alarmed her. It did not.

He pulled her down beside him, then set about feathering delicious little kisses along her cheekbone to her ear. “Are you sure you’re a chemist?”

She leaned back to lift an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you’re a rakehell? Because you certainly aren’t acting like one.”

“Then I’d best begin doing so,” he rasped.

This time he kissed her neck. He even licked her pulse at her throat, which should have disgusted her and instead made her wish to do the same to him.

Would he like it? Did she dare?

She tried it, reveling in his scent of rosewood oil and soap. The scrape of his whiskers delighted her, too, and so did the way he groaned and buried his mouth between her breasts. How wicked!

How thrilling. She gripped his head, meaning to pull him from her bosom and instead tugged him closer. Oh, dear. She was rapidly losing her way. He must be a rakehell after all.

“Your skin is like satin,” he murmured into her breasts. “And you smell so good. I can only imagine how you would taste if I—”

“Olivia?” a voice called from somewhere behind them. “Are you out here? Gwyn wanted me to find you so we could all chat.”

It was Beatrice. Thorn put a finger to his lips, but Olivia didn’t plan to wait until the woman came down here and discovered them together.

She rose from the bench. “I’m here. I was sitting and admiring the fountain.” She hurried up the stone steps to where Beatrice stood near the door. “The Wolfes truly have a lovely garden, don’t they?”

“They do,” Beatrice said as she peered beyond Olivia into the darkness.

Olivia wasn’t good at deception, but if she let Thorn get caught with her again, he would never believe she hadn’t done it on purpose somehow. He was so absurdly suspicious.

She looped her arm in Beatrice’s. “I’m quite eager to talk to Lady Gwyn. When Mama and I were introduced to her as we entered this evening, she and I barely got to say two words. There is such a crush here tonight, don’t you think? It’s precisely why I came out to get some air.”

Lord, she was babbling. She’d never babbled in her life. Because she’d never before practiced to deceive.

Apparently, tonight was to be full of firsts for her. “Have you seen Thorn?” Beatrice asked, looking suspicious. “I could have sworn he was with you when you came out here.”

“Oh. He . . . um . . . merely showed me the garden and hurried back inside. I believe he was headed in search of more ratafia.”

Beatrice’s face cleared. “That does sound like my brother-in-law.” She patted Olivia’s hand and headed for the door. “I’m sure we’ll run into him again.”

Olivia hoped not. Her body couldn’t take much more of a practiced rakehell’s attentions.

Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to see him after this. She and the Greycourts were leaving for their estate tomorrow, and she could bury herself once more in her work.

Now if only she didn’t have fresh fuel for her fantasies, her nights would be calm. But she suspected it would be a long while before that happened.

Thorn sat on the bench, waiting until he was certain that Beatrice and Olivia were gone, then waiting a while longer for his arousal to subside. Damn it all to hell. He’d handled matters badly. He’d intended to inform Olivia he’d be keeping an eye on her at Grey’s estate.

Instead, he’d fallen right back into doing things with her that were most unwise. It didn’t bode well for his ability to keep her at bay at Grey’s.

Perhaps he shouldn’t go.

Like hell he shouldn’t. He still wasn’t convinced of her motives for doing this. And even if she proved as transparent as she seemed, she could very well be incompetent as a chemist. What did he know about chemistry? What did Grey, for that matter?

He rose. The ladies were gone. And he had a long night ahead of him. Presently Vickerman was awaiting his latest play,