Free The Courtesan Duchess by Joanna Shupe

Fitz’s presence. Why would the duke require such a large and forbidding manservant?
    Julia shook herself. A true Cyprian would be preparing to charm the duke, while silently counting the strands of pearls she planned to buy with his money—not musing about his valet. Mrs. Leighton needed to be dazzling, flirtatious, and witty. Focus, she admonished silently.
    Fitz opened the door and stepped aside to allow her into the palazzo. She crossed the threshold and saw Nick coming down the stairs. Julia was nearly struck dumb by his handsomeness. His ebony hair was wet and slicked back from his face, emphasizing the sleek lines of his cheekbones. He wore no waistcoat, cravat, or coat; instead, a fine white linen shirt covered his lean torso, a small patch of black chest hair peeking out at the top. His trousers and evening shoes were black, making him look impossibly tall and powerful.
    And the triumphant, intimate smile he gave her was full of wicked promise. Julia shivered as she handed her pelisse to Fitz.
    “My dear Mrs. Leighton,” Nick said, reaching the last step. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Your radiance steals the very breath from my lungs,” he murmured, his voice husky and deep in her ear. He took her hand. “Come with me.”
    Nick tucked her close to his side as they went up the stairs. Her knees wobbled slightly, and it was all Julia could do not to turn around and run for the door. But she’d come too far, had too much to lose, to back out now.
    They climbed another set of stairs in silence, finally reaching the top floor where Nick threw open a door to reveal his bedchamber. I can do this. And he will not find me out. She repeated it to herself again and again for courage as she strode inside.
    Across from a small table and two chairs sat his enormous bed. Very enormous bed. Her feet stumbled a bit and he caught her elbow, steadying her.
    “I thought you might like to have a drink first,” he said. “Do you care for almonds? They make a flavored liqueur not far from here that is quite delicious.”
    Julia nodded and took a seat. Nick poured a small glass of light brown liquid for each of them and then handed one to her. He sat opposite, his gaze never wavering from her face as he settled in the chair, his long legs now stretched out in front of him. “Well?”
    She took a sip, surprised at the sweet flavor. “It’s nice,” she said, tipping the glass for another swallow.
    Though his posture was relaxed, she could sense Nick’s anticipation in the clenching of his jaw, the straight set of his shoulders. He was a big jungle cat, patiently waiting to pounce on her. The thought was both terrifying and thrilling.
    Half-lidded, dark gray eyes studied her face. “Are you nervous?”
    Julia shook her head, though her heart was racing. “No,” she lied. “Merely curious.” She drained the rest of her glass, and warmth spread through her bones. The nerves began to dissipate, and the soft glow of the spirits gave her courage.
    “Well, then, we must see to satisfying your curiosity.” He held out his hand. She stood up and moved to stand in front of his chair, where she removed the glass from his hands and set it on the table.
    Before she could do anything else, he clasped her waist and tugged her down to sit across his lap. He wrapped one arm tightly around her middle, securing her in place, while his free hand slid up to bury in her hair. Their faces were close, so close she could feel his breath, now coming every bit as ragged as hers. His erection lay beneath her, hard and urgent despite the layers of clothes between them. The proof of his desire thrilled her. Encouraged her. She stared at him boldly, her skin tingling, and waited.
    His smoky gaze flicked to her lips. Unconsciously, the tip of her tongue emerged to moisten them and his grip tightened. “Witch,” he murmured, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his own. The instant his lips claimed hers, the desire simmering between them