Free Pride and Pleasure by Sylvia Day

to an unsecured button on his coat. Strong fingers grasped it, the pad of his thumb rubbing leisurely against the outer curve. She watched, mesmerized, imagining him touching her skin that way. On the curve of her shoulder, perhaps. Or somewhere else.
    He would know the best place to focus that caress.
    The thought of his skill thrilled her.
    Her face heated. She shifted restlessly on the squab, hoping to find a more comfortable position and worsening her predicament instead. She clutched her throat, rubbing it to facilitate her breathing. She felt as if she might pant, as if her stays were too tight and she might soon become dizzy.
    Jasper’s gaze settled on her gently heaving breasts. She knew she should look away and collect herself, but she could not. Her brain writhed in dismay, horrified that her body would so completely fail to function properly for no other reason than that Jasper Bond was undressing her in his mind. She knew he was remembering her as she’d been last night. Partially dressed. Easily bared.
    The barouche slowed to a stop.
    “Here we are,” Lady Collingsworth said with customary cheerfulness.
    Jasper broke the connection first, his head turning toward Somerset House. Eliza looked down, watching as his foot withdrew from beneath her skirts.
    How she made the journey from the carriage to the interior of the edifice was a mystery to her. By the time she recovered the full use of her mental and physical faculties, they were entering the Exhibition Hall. Light poured into the large room from the arched windows high above the hall floor. The walls were covered in paintings, the gilded frames butting against each other, occupying every tiny bit of space.
    As they neared the center of the room, Jasper slowed their progress to a standstill. Eliza looked at him, surprised to find him staring raptly at the images before him. His head was tilted back to the point that the rear of his hat brim nearly touched his back.
    Eliza took stock of the room’s other occupants, noting that the nearest individual was a few feet away. She leaned nearer to Jasper and whispered his name.
    “Hmm . . . ?”
    “Do you remember saying you would answer any question I asked, so long as it pertained to the present?”
    “Yes.” He did not cease his enthralled perusal of the art. “Ask me anything.”
    She cleared her throat. “Do you . . . want to . . . mate with me?”
    He jolted so violently, the reaction shook her, too. His wide-eyed gaze darted to hers. “Eliza.”
    “I do not see why you should look so astonished,” she said, “after kissing me last night, and considering your actions during the ride here.”
    His gaze warmed. A smile curved his lips. He relaxed, focusing completely on her. “Forgive me. Your choice of wording combined with our location took me aback.”
    “I didn’t expect to have to discuss such things with you,” she muttered. “I apologize if I say things incorrectly. But I must know if you can refrain from provoking me. Does the thoroughness of our presentation have to be established with the tactics you’ve utilized thus far or—”
    “—or do I indeed want to mate with you?” Jasper’s smile widened. “Is that what you want to know?”
    Eliza nodded briskly, feeling anxious even though her question was perfectly sound considering their circumstances.
    He squeezed her hand where it rested on his forearm. “You are wondering if I’m manipulating the performance I want out of you, or if my blood is so hot for you I cannot bear for you not to feel similarly?”
    She averted her gaze. Described in that way, her query sounded ridiculous. Jasper was a dazzlingly handsome man. Even now, as she looked around the room to avoid his stare, she found a number of women ogling him or casting surreptitious glances in his direction at regular intervals. He could have any woman he wanted. One who was charming and flirtatious. Knowledgeable.
    “Miss Martin.”
    Eliza turned her attention to the man