Free Love With a Scandalous Lord by Lorraine Heath Page A

begun to pulse through her like sweltering springs?
    “It wasn’t my intent to approach you in my nightclothes.” Holding his gaze, she was aware her voice sounded as though it came from far away.
    “Your intent hardly matters when I find you so distracting. Have you any notion how truly lovely you are?”
    “You ignored me for most of the evening,” she pointed out.
    “Not for one moment.”
    His hands left her ankles to cradle her face. “You tempt me, as I have not been tempted in a good long while.”
    She found it difficult to draw in air, to think. She was certain she was supposed to respond with some sort of witty repartee, but she couldn’t think of anything clever or interesting.
    “I’m hardly dressed as a temptress.”
    “You’re hardly dressed at all. That was your second mistake.”
    “And my first mistake?”
    “Was not returning to the house when I ordered you to go.”
    Before she could protest that she wasn’t one to take orders, he settled his mouth against hers, demanding, insistent, giving the one command to which she was more than willing to surrender.
    She was no stranger when it came to kissing. Chaperones were practically unheard of in Texas. Ladies went on picnics with gentlemen and took rides in buggies. They went on walks and swam in rivers. They shared each other’s company, and on occasion, they shared a kiss.
    Lydia had never believed in encouraging men in whom she had no interest. But neither had she discouraged them from giving her kisses. She understood some things in life were better learned by doing, and she’d certainly been unable to learn how to kiss by reading a book.
    But the men who had kissed her before had failed to teach her what Rhys was skillfully teaching her now. Their kisses had captured her mouth. His enticed her entire body into participating.
    She’d never experienced anything like it. Total and complete surrender.
    Lydia didn’t remember Rhys easing her down so she was lying on her back. She only knew she was suddenly aware that his large hands pillowed her head, protected her from the hardness of the bridge. His arms, trembling, were braced on either side of her, while his mouth continued to work its magic over hers.
    Of an English lord, she’d expected restraint, something a bit more proper, more refined. She certainly hadn’t expected him to build a raging fire deep within her belly, to have his tongue swirling and dancing within her mouth with a wildness that bordered on primitive. To have his chest pressed against her breasts, causing her nipples to harden into sensitive pearls.
    In the farthest recesses of her mind, it occurred to her that what they were doing was entirely improper. Yet he possessed the power, the skill to make her not care.
    If Englishmen kissed with such passion, then it was little wonder that her mother had married one. As the flames of desire licked at her flesh, she set her sights not on scouting out the lords in London, but on conquering one.
    And she realized the one she was with now might be an excellent choice. Something had sparked between them the moment they’d met on the stairs. Something that took little more than a kiss to change it into a tempestuous inferno.
    She’d never in her life experienced the tumultuous sensations she felt now. She twisted her body against his, caressed her bare foot along his calf. She ran her hands over his back, his shoulders, his strong arms, arms that supported him above her while she wanted to be crushed beneath his weight.
    Dragging his mouth from hers, he rolled away from her. She heard his harsh breathing echoing around them.
    “Return to your bedchamber, Lydia.”
    Reaching out, she touched his back. “Rhys.”
    “Do it now!” He shot to his feet and looked down on her. “Or by God, I swear I’ll take you to mine.”
    Her heart kicked painfully against her ribs, while herstomach knotted with trepidation. “Is that a threat?”
    “It’s a promise. A promise I swear