Free The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath Page B

Rose?”
    â€œAren’t you accustomed to ladies asking you about yourself?”
    â€œNo, not really. The ladies whose company I keep generally want but one thing and it requires little conversation.”
    â€œYou never explore a lady’s mind?”
    â€œI find a lady’s mind tedious. I prefer exploring other aspects of her.”
    â€œI fear I’m rather insulted. I don’t find my thoughts tedious at all.”
    â€œPerhaps you shall prove an exception.”
    They had reached a copse of trees. As he led her into them, she glanced over her shoulder. ­People were too far away for her to tell if they were paying attention to Avendale’s destination. But what did it matter? Being alone with him was damaging enough. Although in the end, nothing would deter her from gaining what she wanted.
    The boughs were thick with leaves, the sunlight dappled the ground. Avendale wrapped the reins around a low bush, before taking her into his arms and lowering his mouth to hers. She’d known the kiss was coming. Still the impact of it was a shock, because he did not go gently, but rather he ravished as though he were a man who’d been too long without sustenance.
    Immediately her knees went weak even as she wound her arms around his neck. She backed up a step, another until her spine was pressed to bark and Avendale was flattening her breasts with his broad chest. His tongue conquered, possessed, luxuriated.
    The velvety silkiness of it lured her, had her knocking off that blasted hat that kept far too much of him in shadows, had her running her fingers up into his hair, tugging on the coarse thick strands, holding him near, encouraging him to stay.
    His hands skimmed her sides, her bottom, her hips. Down and around, up and over until at last one cupped her breast. In some far distant place she heard a moan, a whimper—­was that she?—­followed by a resounding growl of triumph. He flicked his thumb over her turgid nipple, causing it to ache for something more, causing every aspect of her body to ache for something more.
    He dragged his mouth over her chin, down her neck until it met her collar and the hollow at her throat. “Why the devil do riding habits have to cover you up as though you’re a blasted nun?” he ground out.
    Thank God hers did, thank God, thank God. If she felt his heated mouth against more skin she thought her resolve might vanish and she would find herself giving him everything before she had the opportunity to weigh all the consequences.
    Damn him for having the ability to kiss her senseless. Damn him for making her welcome him.
    He nibbled on her lobe and there was that damned whimper again. Heat pooled between her thighs. Her fingers tightened on his hair.
    â€œCome with me to my residence now,” he rasped.
    Her voice seemed to have deserted her. She almost nodded in acquiescence. She would give him anything, anything, if he would but make the glorious ache go away, would return sanity to her senses. She knew, without doubt, that he held the power to bank the embers he was flaming to life.
    â€œNo,” she said, her voice rough and raw. “I told you. I require affection.”
    â€œI’ll give you more than you’ve ever known.”
    Shaking her head, she somehow found the strength to shove on his shoulders. “No.”
    The fire in his eyes frightened her—­not because it heralded anger, but because it was naught but smoldering passion. She saw the desperation with which he wanted her. She knew a moment of triumph, before she was swamped by a sadness she didn’t understand. This man had everything: wealth, power, prestige, influence. He owned the world. He had handed her coins to gamble away. It’s only money.
    All he had he took for granted. All he possessed meant so little to him.
    And he wanted to possess her. In the possessing, she would cease to matter, would lose her value. She would become like the