Free Engaged in Sin by Sharon Page Page B

herself. Her hair wasn’t blond any longer, not after the dye. “Red.”
    “ ‘Titian’ was how my butler described it. He described your eyes as dark green, like ivy.”
    She started at that. Never had she thought of the dark color of her eyes in that way, yet it was very accurate. “I wouldn’t have thought your butler to be so …”
    “Poetic?” he suggested.
    “Yes.” Anne had never expected the odd-looking servant to have such awareness. “I suspect you don’t employ him only to keep people away. I think—I think he worries about you.”
    “He does. Too much so. Makes him poke his nose in my business.” The duke’s fingers trailed down her neck. That was the only place his fingertips caressed, but her skin everywhere seemed aware of his touch. He stroked the base of her throat, where her pulse thudded. He found the velvet lapels of her robe, drew them apart with both hands.
    “Take it off,” he directed.
    She did so, pushing it off her shoulders, letting it fall.
    But when she stood in front of him, in her shift, he asked, “Why are you doing this? Reading letters to me. Trying to clean me up. Why not simply take the money I offer and find a better protector? Why are you so determined to convince me to let you stay? This can’t be about avoiding your former madam.”
    “I
am
afraid of my madam, and I’m afraid of poverty. I want to be a duke’s mistress.” Words spilled out of her. She was so afraid of telling him the truth, of just letting it fall out, that she began to babble. She’d had no idea a secret would sit so heavily in her heart and would want so desperately to get out.
    She couldn’t confide in him. It was insane to be tempted. “I know of no other way for a woman like me to find independence and freedom. I want my own house, clothes, food, and the knowledge that someday I shall be in charge of my own life. And I—I like you, Your Grace.”
    He tipped his head back, shutting his eyes. “You
like
me? I’m blind, half mad, and, according to you, an unkempt mess. You have very questionable taste.”
    “I did not mean you are a mess! Only that your beard was.”
    He laughed, and her thundering heart slowed a bit.
    “Now that the scruffy beard is gone and my face is smooth, angel, there’s something I’d like to do to please you.”
    It must be a good sign he was thinking of sex again, but she could not imagine what he wanted to do that required a smooth face. And she told him so.
    “You don’t know?” His voice deepened to a richly sinful rumble. “Angel, you must.”
    “No, I’ve no idea.”
    “This is something you’ll enjoy very much. All women do.” His lips curved in a dazzling grin. “I think there’s a stool somewhere. Bring it here and sit down. Then open your legs.”
    She obeyed. She had no idea what he wanted to do. Not knowing made her nervous.
    “There,” she said awkwardly when she was ready. Her silky shift was bunched up at her waist, and she perched on the stool, close to its edge.
    Guided by the sound of that one word, he lowered to his knees in front of her. He tilted his head to the side. “You must know now, love.”
    “I don’t.”
    He reached out, felt for her knees, and clasped them when he found them. “This I can do without sight. This I can be very good at without sight.” Determination glinted in his violet eyes. With his shirt open at his throat, his hair a wild tangle of black, and his feet bare, he looked like a pirate. At this moment, he didn’t look like a man who had given up caring and he didn’t look haunted. He looked like a man bent on proving a point.
    Then he said, “I want to please you.” And doubt slammed into her.
    Each time they’d been together, she had moaned and cried out and had made him believe he’d pleasured her. Hadn’t she?
    She never felt actual pleasure. For some reason, it wasn’t possible for her. She never felt anything at all while making love. But she gave the best performances she