Free Freedom by Jenn LeBlanc Page B

backing him up against the chaise. He fell into it, the towel falling open as he stretched out long, his ankles hanging from the end. He threw one arm over his eyes.
     
    “Supper, Your Grace,” Ferry said as he entered with a tray. Roxleigh couldn’t even be troubled to grunt a response. Instead he left Ferry to his duty, listening to his footsteps slide across the floor, then become muffled by the rug. The delicate clink of china followed as he arranged the tray in front of the fire before leaving the way he came.
     
    Roxleigh glanced at the tray and saw a missive set by the terrine of soup. He closed his eyes and returned to his thoughts.
     
    Better not to think of her by name. Instead she would be this girl . This unwanted bit of distraction. That was what she was, that was how he had to think of her. No more, no less. She would be gone from his life soon enough, with all of her spit and fire with her.
     
    He thought of the shock of her pulled up against him, neck to knee. Her indecision as her hands drifted between them, unsure whether to touch his chest or curl her fingers in retreat. He remembered the fight in her eyes, stolen by shock when she turned and glimpsed herself in the looking glass. He would have it destroyed. She had been moments from deciding to set him down good and proper, he was sure of it, and nothing in his life had stoked his passion as the anticipation of that set-down.
     
    He felt his grin against his arm. This girl, this girl. God help him with this girl. How was he to survive in his own household? Part of him wanted to catch her somewhere she should not be, only for the chance to reprimand her, to see if he could get her to fight him again.
     
    He growled. Picking fights with a girl? What was he, still in short pants? But she wasn’t a girl; she was a woman, and he a man. One leg slipped off the chaise and he anchored himself, planting his foot on the floor next to him.
     
    The fire warmed and dried his skin from the bath, and he felt it soak in through his inner thighs and up though his groin. He really should move. He really should eat his supper. He really should read the letter. At the very least he should cover himself like a proper gentleman instead of laying here in his glory for all his furnishings to see.
     
    He grunted.
     
    His jaw clenched.
     
    He took himself in hand. This time, a bit gentler. His thumb notched the base of his manhood and he palmed himself in one long stroke. He smoothed his hand down, then back up again, and he spread his legs wider, pushing into the floor as his thighs tensed.
     
    Her hair was the color of toasted butter and cinnamon, her eyes the varied colors of the sky, and her demeanor was just as changing. He’d felt her watching him ride across the valley to the wood, each of his nerves striking the hairs on the back of his neck as it took all of his concentration to stay his course and not turn toward her. The launch into the thick forest was a release as much as it was a disappointment to no longer feel her awareness prickling his skin.
     
    When he returned to the manor to find her on the balcony, her breasts straining the fabric of her nightgown, the garment pulled tight as she leaned into the wind above him, he nearly lost himself on his mount.
     
    He pulled at the favorite memory, his stomach dampening with the early proof of his desire as he shifted and strengthened his grip.
     
    His other hand found the towel half beneath him and tangled in it, pulling and grabbing the soft fabric until the muscles of his arm strained.
     
    “Francine.”
     
    He gasped at the rough gritty edge to his own voice and pushed his head against the cushions, his back bowing out from the seat.
     
    Sweet Francine. Her eyes were like windows to the world, lips as softly tinted as the blush on a rose. Her sweet, terrified face interchanged with that fierce vixen who prodded his chest, demanding to know who he was and how he was going to help set her to