Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,65

. . . courteously.”

“Nine years ago. But you and I have both changed since then. You’ve become more cynical, while I’ve learned there are certain advantages to . . . being around a man like you.”

His blood roaring in his ears, he walked toward her. “Such as?”

“Companionship, for one. I find it stimulating to talk to a fellow who appreciates my accomplishments in chemistry even if he doesn’t understand them.” She faced him fully as he approached her. “Who shares my interest in the theater, among other things.”

“You find talking to a man about chemistry and the theater stimulating, eh?” He came near enough so he could smell her erotic scent, see her eyes darken with desire. “I find it stimulating to be this close to you.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “To touch you.” He lowered his lips to within a half inch of hers. “To kiss you. You have a mouth made for kissing.”

So he did precisely that.

Chapter Twelve

Olivia could hardly think when he was distracting her with his lips and tongue and teeth. Why must he kiss so divinely, with an angel’s sweet tenderness and a devil’s hot urgency? The combination turned her knees weak.

She wanted more of everything . . . his mouth, his hands . . . his hard body hot against her. His loose banyan of cobalt-blue silk whispered over her arms, as if even the fabric wished to caress her, arouse her.

He drew back to say hoarsely, “I’ve missed you.”

“Me? Or this?”

“Can’t I miss both?” Without warning, he hoisted her up to sit on the wide windowsill and tugged out her fichu so he could kiss and suck and tongue her bare skin, from her throat to the upper swells of her breasts. The mere rasp of his evening whiskers against her skin made her eager for more of him.

She clutched his shoulders and let the pleasure of having him against her wash over her like a warm bath. “Thorn, what are we doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m taking advantage of you.” As if to emphasize the fact, he slid his fingers slowly through her hair, which was still in the chignon she always used for working, and let her hairpins fall where they may. “My God, but your hair is lovely. It shines like a sunny summer day . . . or a field of barley in autumn.”

He was as poetic as Mr. Juncker. She wondered if he realized that.

“Thorn, be serious.”

His gaze burned into her. “I’m always serious about hair.”

She shook her head, making her hair fall even further. “I mean, don’t you think perhaps this isn’t . . . very wise?”

“Yet here I am doing it anyway.” As if in a trance, he spread her hair out over her shoulders. “That’s what we rakehells do, you know.” He nuzzled her breasts, making her yearn for more.

She kissed his temple, then his hair, and made a last ditch protest. “My dear reckless rakehell, aren’t you worried someone will happen upon us?”

“Not at this hour.”

The reminder that everyone else was in bed, that they could behave with impunity, was enough to rouse her. And why shouldn’t she be with him? It wasn’t as if she needed to save her virtue. After this, she meant to be a chemist her whole life. To be alone.

The thought depressed her, making her throw herself even more into their . . . activities.

He untied her apron and tossed it over the settee, then dragged her skirts up above her stockings so he could move between her legs. The thickness of his arousal pushed at the part of her already eager for him, making her sigh and ache. The contrast of his heat there and the cold of the window against her back made her shiver.

“Let’s move somewhere warmer, shall we?” Thorn said. “Put your legs around me.”

When she did, just to see what he would do, he carried her away from the window and into her bedchamber through the door she hadn’t meant to leave open. Or had she?

Just the movement of his body against her bare privates turned her molten. Was it wrong that she always felt wet down there when he did these things? Was that normal?

She didn’t care. Dear Lord, but he was driving her dangerously, thoroughly mad.

He set her down on the high mattress of her bed, then cupped her head in his hands and gazed down into her eyes. “I want you. And I believe you