Free Elusive Passion by Kathryn Smith

than it was the night we met.”
    They grinned foolishly at each other. Suddenly, Varya became aware that their bodies were slowly drifting closer together. Her heart began to pound in anticipation. Would he kiss her? Did she even want him to kiss her? Good Lord, she did. What the devil was wrong with her?
    He was Bella’s.
    The doorknob rattled, causing both of them to jump back.
    Her heart now thumping from fear rather than desire, Varya stared wide-eyed at Miles. He stared back, his face white. What were they going to do? How could they possibly explain their presence in Lord Pennington’s private study?
    He pointed toward the desk. “Hide!” he whispered.
    Varya nodded frantically, hiking up her skirts to run for cover, but at the same time that she moved left, he moved right. They collided at the foot of the sofa, with enough force to knock her well off balance.
    Miles grabbed her around the waist. Her hands let go of her skirts and clutched at his shoulders in an effort to steady herself. He took a step forward—
    And stepped directly onto the hem on the side of her gown. There was the sound of shredding fabric and gasping breath as Varya toppled to one side. Miles’s foot slipped on the silk and he fell with her. He plunged facefirst into her chest as they landed on the hard cushions.
    Varya gasped, her skirts billowing around herthighs. She grabbed him by the ears, trying to extricate him, even as the door flew open.
    Within minutes the entire house was buzzing with the on dit that the Marquess of Wynter had been found with his face buried in the splendid bosom of the formerly Elusive Varya.

Chapter 5
    S o this was how it felt to be the mistress of the Marquess of Wynter.
    Alone. More alone than she had felt in her entire life.
    Varya stood on the balcony that adjoined her bedchamber. She lifted her face to the night breeze, sighing as its cool fingers drifted through her hair, lifting the heavy mass from her shoulders. She rested her forearms on the wide balustrade and stared out into the darkness. She desperately wanted a glass of vodka.
    She wondered if Miles was drinking himself into a stupor, as he had announced earlier.
    “By tomorrow morning the whole town will have you known as my mistress,” he had muttered gruffly as he escorted her from Pennington’s door to her carriage.
    “I suppose there are worse things I could be known as,” she replied lightly in an attempt to soften his mood. Did he not realize that she felt just as humiliated as he did? After all, it had been she with her skirts bunched up around her waist for all to see—not he.
    He only grunted and tossed her rather unceremoniously into her coach without so much as a goodnight. For some reason, his behavior left her feeling rather disappointed.
    Their audience had been anything but disappointed to find them locked in what appeared to be a passionate embrace. None of them had acted surprised, however, and Varya was beginning to realize that Miles’s reputation had not been exaggerated.
    She also realized that her actions were going to greatly change how people treated her from now on. Some had already begun to regard her with thinly disguised amusement or disgust. A few ladies had even fixed her with looks that could only be described as envious. Who could blame them for wanting a man as handsome and virile as Miles?
    She sighed. It would appear that she was not as immune to his charms as she would have liked. She would never admit it out loud, but the heaviness of his body on top of hers had left her with a hot, tingly feeling. His back had been hard and solid beneath her hands, and warm through the light wool of his black cutaway. For one split second, she had been tempted not to pull his head away from her breasts but to press him even deeper into her heated flesh.
    And then someone had gasped and she realized they had been caught in a very compromising position.
    “At least we don’t have to explain why we were in the study in