Free When Seducing A Duke by Kathryn Smith Page A

don’t know you, but I’ve been looking forward to tonight ever since I woke up that morning last week and found you gone.” He slid his hand up the graceful curve of her spine to cup the back of her head. “And so have you.”
    He cut off any reply—any denial—she might have tried to make with his own mouth. Her lips yielded so sweetly beneath his, easily parting for his tongue to slip inside and taste the warm wetness of her mouth. She affected him like the most potent wine, making him lightheaded and warm. She made him lose all control, all reason.
    It was a feeling he wanted to cling to as long as he possibly could.
    They undressed each other slowly, making a sensual game of it. When he carried her to the bed she wore nothing but her stockings—a sight more arousing than any he’d ever seen.
    They came together easily, her body slick and ready for him. The humid vise of her sex wrapped around and held him with a tightness that made him grind his teeth in an effort to maintain control. Christ, she felt like heaven. He could stay inside her forever.
    But forever wasn’t possible, so he settled for most of the night. Sometime just before dawn, they fell side by side on the damp and tangled sheets. He disposed of the last sheath he’d used, and closed his eyes in sated oblivion. His fingers fumbled and finally found hers as they rested against her thigh.
    Her hands were so soft.
    When the darkness came he fought it, knowing that the night would end when sleep came for him. But Hypnos, god of slumber, would not be denied, and even Grey’s will was no match.
    He woke the next morning alone. Again. But this time, a soft brown mask lay on the pillow beside him, and beneath that a sheet of Saint’s Row stationery upon which was written two words.
    Next Thursday.
    Chapter 6
    I t was late Friday afternoon when Grey returned from taking tea with his mother, Archer, and Bronte.
    It had been a good visit, he reflected as he left his mount with one of the grooms near the stables. His mother hadn’t bothered him about finding a wife. She seemed to have given up on that dream and moved on to Arch. Plus, she had Bronte to concern herself with as well. The youngest Kane sibling was on her third Season and had already turned down four proposals of marriage since her come-out. With a sizable dowry and investments of her own thanks to their brother Trystan, Bronte was in no hurry to “sell” herself as she put it. Grey couldn’t blame her. She was only twenty, and wanted a man who saw more than her fortune. He wished her luck, as she might be in for a bit of a wait. Fortunately, any man worth his salt realized that women became more interesting and attractive as they got older, so he had no doubt that Bronte would eventually meet someone who saw her true worth.
    Speaking of interesting women…
    There, on a blanket spread over the lush green of the back lawn, was Rose. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat to protect her from the sun, and a coral-colored day gown with very little adornment or trim. Not for the first time, Grey was struck at how much older she was than when she’d come into his care. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a woman.
    Not just a woman, she was obviously a bloody siren, because no matter how much he intended to carry onward to the house and take care of some business before bathing and dressing for dinner, he found himself walking across the freshly cut grass toward her, mesmerized by the ruffling of her skirts as the warm breeze tugged at them.
    She was engrossed in reading a magazine, which she held in both hands to keep the wind from picking up the pages. In fact, she was so involved in her reading that she didn’t seem to notice his arrival.
    “And what is the popular color for gowns this Season?” he asked with a smile when it became necessary to announce himself.
    She gave a little start, and when she raised her face to look up at him, her cheeks were pink, her eyes wide. She looked, for lack of