Free Love and Let Spy (Lord and Lady Spy) by Shana Galen Page A

arms.
    And then she wasn’t rigid. Then she was soft and pliable, her warm body melting into his. Her breathing matched his breathing, and he trembled when she did. For a long moment, he didn’t think he could release her. Ever. For three beats of their hearts, he was afraid he would never be able to walk away from this woman again.
    His head swam; his vision dimmed as blackness swirled. Dominic had to make a conscious effort to open his fingers from her wrist and release her. Even more difficult was the act of separating their lips. As soon as he’d pulled away, he had the overwhelming urge to pull her to him again.
    “No!” He stumbled back, putting several feet between them, and still had to clutch the wall for support and to resist taking her in his arms again.
    She blinked at him, looking like a woman who had just stepped from a dark room into the sunlight.
    “What the devil just happened?” he asked, more to himself than to her. She looked as surprised as he did. He stared at her. Had she bewitched him? How else could he explain how he felt? How desperately he wanted her? How close he had come to wanting to break more of his own rules?
    She put her hands to her pink cheeks. “I think you had better go,” she said, her voice low and sultry. Hearing her speak, he wanted to do anything but walk away from her. And that was precisely why he had to walk away.
    “I think you are correct.” He glanced about, surprised to note they were standing outside a drawing room. He had not known where he was for a long moment there. He was with Miss Bonde—no, not Miss Bonde. He was with Her . “Where is my hat?” he asked, looking about.
    The door to the drawing room opened, and the butler emerged, holding his beaver hat. “Here you are, sir. If you will follow me, I will show you out.”
    Dominic opened his mouth, then frowned. “How…” It did not matter. He took the hat, placed it on his head, nodded to Her, and started down the stairs without looking back.
    Once outside the town house, once on the street, he did not think of her. Rather, he did not allow himself to think of her. When he was not in her presence, the effect she had on him diminished. He couldn’t begin to imagine what had come over him when he’d kissed her. He did not want to spend another moment considering what was between them. She was dangerous. That much was clear to him. He would do well to avoid her.
    Easier said than done, of course, considering they were to be engaged and then married.
    He’d think about that tomorrow.
    Without planning to, he’d made his way to Edgeberry’s London residence. It sat behind a large wall and iron gates. A footman stood just inside and recognized Dominic as soon as he stepped into the light cast from the lamps on the columns flanking the gates.
    “Mr. Griffyn, sir. Just one moment.” He heard the clink of a key, and then the gates swung open. Dominic tipped his hat at the footman and made his way up the short walk to the house. Edgeberry’s butler opened the door, looking weary and frazzled.
    Dominic paused. “Has his lordship returned from the country, Danbury?”
    “No, sir,” Danbury said. “But Lord Phineas is here.”
    Dominic almost groaned aloud. Phineas was his mother’s third son, Edgeberry’s second. Phineas was not the heir to the marquessate, but the spare. He had all of the privileges of his father’s position and none of the responsibilities of his elder brother’s future. If there was a vice, Phineas subscribed to it. His main vices were as cliché as his rakish ways—wine and women. As if on cue, Phineas—or one of his reprobate friends—guffawed loudly.
    “Perhaps he will retire soon,” Dominic said to the beleaguered butler. Danbury was a relatively new addition to the Edgeberry staff. He did not feel as though he had enough authority to impose much order on the young gentlemen of the household. When Edgeberry was present, it was not necessary. But tonight, Edgeberry and