Free Tempting a Devil by Samantha Kane

Roger agreed, although he sounded skeptical as he gave her an odd look.
    “Well, if you both think so,” Lady Lockerby said, standing up. “And of course with you here to watch over them, Mr. Templeton, I feel much better about going back home. All right, then, I’ll just go finish my packing. What a mess the house will be when I return,” she muttered as she left the room, her mind already on other things.
    Roger, of course, had stood and bowed upon Lady Lockerby’s leaving. He turned now to Harry and bowed. “I shall take my leave, then, Lady Mercer.”
    Harry jumped up and closed the parlor door, her back against it, blocking his exit. “Oh, no, you won’t,” she said. She pointed to his shirt. “Your jacket isn’t done.”
    “Send it to me when it is,” he said, walking right up to her and pointedly staring at the doorknob.
    “You must wait until Mercy wakes from his nap,” she tried desperately. “He wants to say thank you.”
    “He can write me a note.” Roger crossed his arms, glaring now.
    “He can’t write.” Which was true.
    “Harry—”
    She didn’t let him finish. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, just a desperate one. “I want to thank you, too,” she whispered, staring up into his beautiful blue eyes when he didn’t kiss her back. He had the longest, blackest eyelashes she’d ever seen. His arms were still crossed and he was still frowning, but he didn’t look away. She kissed him again, this time softer, slower. His lips weren’t so hard, and he tipped his head a fraction of an inch so their mouths met more easily. She pressed her advantage, placing little kisses at the corners of his mouth.
    “My God, Harry,” he whispered harshly, unfolding his arms and wrapping them around her, crushing her to him. “Don’t you even know how to kiss?” Before she could answer, Roger took control of their embrace, capturing her lips in a kiss that made a mockery of any intimacy she’d experienced thus far in her life.
    She had a moment of panic when she realized Roger was actually giving in, because his kiss made it clear she was in far, far over her head.

Chapter Seven
    Roger cursed himself for a fool even as he crushed Harry to him and kissed her. He poured into that kiss every ounce of frustration that she’d put him through over the last few weeks. She struggled against him, as if she could tell his passion had more to do with anger than desire. That is, until she went weak in his arms and kissed him back. Then it was lust on his part, plain and simple.
    He lusted after Harry Stanley. Inconceivable.
    No, he lusted after Lady Harriet Mercer, who was a sweet-smelling armful of lush, curvaceous, golden blond beauty, with her husky voice and come-hither looks. He had lusted after her from the first moment he set eyes on her in that garden not long ago. He lusted after a sensuous woman, not the rough and tumble tomboy he’d known over a decade ago. He broke their kiss and looked at her, just to reassure himself, and she sighed in protest, her eyes fluttering open to stare at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. Her golden eyes mesmerized him. She squirmed against him, her breasts rubbing on his chest, her legs tangling with his as he hauled her even closer. He wanted to taste her all over. To lick her like a sweet treat and nibble all those curves until she groaned her passion in that dark, lovely voice, and said his name, demanding more. He wanted to see her climax.
    Clearly his treacherous mind had followed his body’s lead and given in to the walking temptation that was Harry. This new Harry. This delectable, irresistible Harry.
    There must have been something in his face that alarmed her. Suddenly her gaze was wary and she pushed at his chest until he loosened his hold on her. He didn’t let go,however. He tried, but he seemed incapable of making his arms obey his command. Now that they’d got her, they insisted on keeping ahold of