Free The Perfect Gift by Raven McAllan Page B

housekeeper curtsied and left the room, he wondered what it was that meant Judith was most suited to being accommodated next to him? Not for the reasons he most desired, he was sure. His sister knew nothing of them. If his brother-in-law did, Stephen knew there was no circumstance under which Harry would divulge such things.
    He sat, thinking.
    Lady Judith Gresham. The one person he lusted after in vain. He was too old, too extreme, and in his justification, he decided, too set in his ways to take the virtue of a young, untried girl. Stephen hoped he was wise enough to see and deflect a juvenile crush without deflating the innocent bestowing her affections. At eleven years her elder, he had known from the first time he set eyes on the fresh young debutante she could be his for the taking. But Stephen was no seducer of virgins of any age, had no inclination to marry, and moreover, he enjoyed the life of a single man. To say nothing of what I want from a relationship, which I dare not hope would be acceptable to her.
    For three years, he had succeeded well enough; making sure they were never alone, behaving with polite courtesy, and acting in the same vein he treated his young cousins, almost father-like.
    Until the last ball he had attended. Slipping into the gardens to smoke a rare cigar, he had been unaware she had followed until her hand rested on his arm, and he felt the soft sweet pressure of her breasts against him.
    “How long are we playing this game?” she asked him, her lips tilting up at the sides in a mischievous grin. “I want you. You want me, why are you dissembling?”
    He experienced a tight hard throbbing in his groin as he responded to her presence in his usual predictable way. Stephen forced himself to breathe in as even a manner as possible, and shifted to ease the sudden pain. He curled his hands into tight fists to stop himself reaching out and running them over her throat, biting the soft, milk-white skin of her breasts and making her his.
    Of course she had noticed. When did she ever not?
    “Hell, is it not?” she asked in a soft undertone. “When your body responds even though your mind dictates it should react in an indifferent manner?”
    He had no answer to that; not even when, for one brief moment, he felt her soft hand burning through his breeches as it cupped his shaft. Judith laughed so softly he had to strain to catch the breathy sound.
    “You may deny your reaction, but your body gives lie to any statement of denial, my lord. One day perhaps you will listen to it. Perchance then we will both benefit.” She paused and once more he heard her deep, throaty, arousing chuckle. “Or perhaps not. Who knows if by then I may have grown weary of my lonely wait and moved on to pastures new. For now, I am untried and waiting to be taught all I need to know—by you.” She paused and for a brief moment he could swear he saw tears in her eyes.
    “All, Stephen, listen well to my words. All of them. You think you are alone? I know, Stephen, women gossip. I know. ” She stopped speaking; even the air seemed to still as she waited for his reply.
    Stephen swallowed the lump in his throat; he dared not introduce her to his needs. Nor did he believe she really knew. Have ideas, wonder, but not know. That would crucify one so innocent as her, surely? He didn’t know how to answer her, so stayed silent.
    Judith blinked rapidly and her somber expression cleared.
    “Ah well, if you wish not to be my tutor?” She shrugged her shoulders and he saw her breasts move under the silk of her gown. “Well, then I may need to find one who does.” With one last caress she left him. Her long strides, so unlike the dainty genteel lady of the ton she portrayed, carried her away from him posthaste, before he had time to give voice to his thoughts of denial.
    Over my dead body!
    Aroused, aching, he was unable to return to the ballroom until he had sought a quiet, unoccupied corner of the garden, and taken matters in