Free His Mistress By Christmas by Victoria Alexander

match.”
    “I rather thought Portia would have told you everything there is to know about me. Especially when the topic is scandal.”
    “Portia is remarkably discreet.” While he had certainly quizzed his cousin, she revealed no more information about Veronica than what was common knowledge.
    “Nonsense.” Veronica scoffed. “Portia has never met a secret she could keep.”
    “Perhaps she thought you should tell me of your past.”
    “There is very little past to speak of. I have always been far more concerned with today than yesterday. However . . .” She smiled pleasantly, as if they were about to discuss something of no consequence. “It did strike me after our last meeting that, while I learned a great deal about you, we scarcely talked about me at all.”
    “My apologies.” He winced. “How very thoughtless of me.”
    “Not at all.” She waved off his comment. “It wasn’t your fault in the least. I gave you no opportunity to ask me anything of significance or anything at all, if I recall. You did compare me to a journalist.” She flashed an amused smile. “I still like that, you know.”
    “Regardless, I should have at least asked you if you’d seen the play.”
    “That’s neither here nor there at the moment. But, in the interest of honesty, there are some things about me you would be wise to know.” She pulled out a small folded paper from her glove. “I have made a list.”
    “Have you?” He chuckled. “How very efficient of you.”
    “I hate to waste time.” She glanced at the note. “First of all, I have never minded being the subject of gossip as long as it is relatively accurate.”
    He nodded. “Excellent. Go on.”
    “I have the resources to do precisely as I please, and for the most part, I do. While I am not overly concerned with propriety, I do not go out of my way to flout it, either.”
    “Very clever.”
    “Yes, it is. I am clever, and I see no need to hide my intelligence.”
    “Nor should you.”
    “I enjoy nothing so much as a good argument.”
    He grinned. “That I have noticed.”
    “Unless, of course, it’s a grand hat.”
    “I have noticed that as well.”
    “I expect my opinions to be respected.” Her eyes narrowed. “Even when they disagree with yours.”
    “I see.”
    She pinned him with a firm look. “I do not believe in regrets.”
    “Nor do I.”
    “I cherish my independence and my freedom.”
    “Understandable.”
    “At the end of my life, I want my epitaph to be ‘She was never dull. ‘ ”
    He chuckled. “I shall remember that.” He glanced at the note. “Is that all?”
    “For now.” She refolded the paper. “Unless there is something else you wish to know.”
    “There is a great deal I wish to know. But none of it is written there.” He plucked the note from her hand, crumpled it, then tossed it aside. “Indeed, I have a list of my own.”
    She laughed. “Oh, then please, do tell me.”
    “I know how your eyes flash when you are amused.” He leaned closer. “I want to see them glaze in the heat of desire.”
    “Do you?” Her lovely brown eyes widened, but she did not lean back.
How interesting.
    “I want to know how your lips feel pressed against my lips.” He lowered his voice. “How it feels to have your breath mingled with mine.”
    “Really?” Amusement sparked in her dark eyes.
    “Really.” He leaned closer. “I want to know if your skin is as silken as it looks when your naked leg is wrapped around mine.”
    “My . . .” The word was little more than a sigh curving her lips in a slight smile.
    “I want to know how the beat of your heart feels pressed against my chest.”
    “Goodness . . .” A breathless note sounded in her voice.
    “I want to know the fullness of your breast under my hand, the curve of your hip beneath my fingers.”
    She leaned toward him. “Sebastian . . .”
    “I want to know if your hair spread across my pillow glows like red gold in the morning light.”
    “The morning?” She