Free Wanton Widows: Three Short Regency Romps by Isabella Hargreaves Page A

invite her to dance in
the waltz set that was assembling behind them.
    He took her hint and responded as she wished.
She placed her hand on his black-clad arm. Beneath her fingers was solid
muscle. Promising.
    The music commenced and she slid her hand up
his arm to rest it upon his shoulder. It was wide and unpadded. Mmmm.
    He took her right hand in his, while his other
hand, on her waist, heated her skin through the silk of her dress. He spun them
around the ballroom, skilfully keeping her safe from the other dancers.
    She must make her move now or lose her nerve. “You
dance very well, Sir Nicholas. What else do you excel at?”
    “There are many sports at which I am
proficient,” he replied disinterestedly.
    “Do you have a preference? Which sports do you
love?”
    “Riding, hunting, fishing…” Still a polite,
indifferent response.
    “You must be most accomplished.”
    “At most things.” He gave a faint smile that
died quickly.
    “There is one past-time I would like to share
with you.”
    “Indeed?” He raised and lowered a brow.
    “Would you like to guess its name and play?”
    He twirled her around the dance floor again
before answering.
    “What if I try and fail in my attempt?”
    “I’m sure you’ve never failed in any of your
attempts at this past-time.”
    He directed a long look at her for the first
time. “Now I’m curious.” He paused. “Is it chess?”
    She chuckled. “Too intellectual.”
    “Horse racing?” he said with scepticism,
accompanied by a matching expression.
    “Too public.” She dismissed it with a wave of
her left hand.
    “Gaming?”
    “Too expensive.”
    “Charades?”
    Her voice deepened to a throaty purr. “Too
many participants.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Draughts?”
    Hah! “Too tame.”
    His other eyebrow joined its mate. She had
surprised him. She smiled to herself.
    “Is this a game for two, performed in
private?” His voice was low and velvety.
    She looked boldly into his eyes. “It is best
done that way, indeed.”
    “And you would like to play this game with me,
Lady Caroline?” He affected boredom.
    “I am considering issuing you with a
challenge.” She smiled up at him.
    His look was long and piercing. She bravely
held his gaze and risked a come-hither smile.
    Instead of responding, he danced them through
the French doors, onto the balcony overlooking the garden. The brightness of
the ballroom spilled onto the outside tiles. He whirled her along the balcony
in tight circles, halting only when they reached a shadowed stone seat at the
farthest end.
    “Now, my dazzling beauty, we’re private. Let’s
try your game?”
    “There’s still not enough privacy for the game
I have in mind.”
    “Really?” He stepped closer. “Does it go like
this?” He bent his head and kissed her lips gently and lingeringly, giving her
the opportunity to retreat from his advance. When she made no move to stop him,
he deepened it. He tasted of the champagne they had sipped upon arrival, in
celebration of the launch of the Masseys’ youngest daughter into the adult world
as a debutant. Her heartbeat ratcheted higher.
    Then, he leant away. Caroline opened her eyes
to peer up at him in the darkness. He watched her.
    “It starts like that,” she said and stepped
closer. “But it doesn’t end there.”
    She wanted him to know her intent, so stood on
tiptoe to kiss him open-mouthed, her hands on his waist to help her balance.
    He responded by drawing her into a tight
embrace and kissing her fiercely. Her heart raced. A shaft of desire turned her
nipples hard and plunged through her belly to flare between her legs. She had
to have him soon. She was ready to have him now.
    He whispered fiercely. “Come with me. Let’s
leave here now.” He nibbled her lips. “Meet me in the foyer in ten minutes.”
    “No.” Her voice was adamant.
    He froze, then stepped away from her. When he
spoke, his voice was no longer mellow and compelling, but laced with cynicism
to suit