Free The Earl and the Governess: An Erotic Romance by Alison Shaw Page B

bruised
hand drifted away from the wall and clamped around her wrist
stilling her. She pulled away from him in surprise and looked at
him imploringly.
    “What is your
game, Madam?” he asked.
    “Game?” she
gasped, her chest heaving. “What do you mean?”
    “The last time
we were in this kind of compromising position you stopped me and
told me you do not give yourself to, and I quote, ‘eligible
men’”
    She just gazed
at him with glazed green eyes. It surprised Rafe. It seemed that he
was more in control of his faculties than she was, despite the fact
that all his blood had rushed to his groin.
    “What has
changed?” he asked.
    “Nothing,” she
said. “I wasn’t thinking. I am not thinking straight.” She swayed
and grabbed hold of his arm to steady herself. “You came sweeping
in here and you looked so…and then you took a swing at that awful
man and your face was so…and I lost all thought.”
    He took in the
flush of her cheeks and the darkness of her eyes and the slight
wildness of her auburn hair that had come unpinned and he was
amazed to find himself believing her.
    “You are the
most beautiful man I have ever met,” she said slightly
breathlessly.
    “And you’re not
trying to trap me?” But as he said the words, he let go of her
wrist and his hands returned to her waist.
    “All I wanted
was you, right here and right now, and I promise you there were no
other thoughts in my head.”
    Her use of the
past tense did not escape Rafe, neither the fact that she had
pulled away from him slightly. His cock was missing the heat and
pressure of her already. He cursed himself for being so
uncharacteristically cautious.
    “I think you
were right,” she said resting her small pale hand on his chest. “We
shouldn’t be doing this.”
    He allowed her
to pull further away as he removed his hands from her waist, but
then he said quietly, “I will have you.”
    She laughed
softly. “You are terrified of marriage, Lord Fairburn. I think it’s
best that you forget me and I forget you.”
    “And what if I
can’t?” he asked.
    “You must at
least try. I am sure you can have any woman in the Ton, and I have
heard, many of the men too.” And she gave him a silky little smile
before she turned and exited the room.
    Rafe stayed
slumped against the wall for quite some time brooding over how
close she had been to throwing caution to the wind and raising her
skirts and impaling herself on him. He could have fucked her right
here on the hearthrug. He could have finally found out what it felt
like to have her come around his thrusting cock. He could have
heard the sound of her release as he drove her to ecstasy. But he
had stopped her. He could punch himself right now.
     
     
     

Chapter
15
     
    The Earl's New Mistress
     
    In which our
regency rake is exploited.
     
     
    The Earl of
Langham was this very moment having to remind himself just how
lucky he was. Most men who found themselves lying amongst the
feather pillows of Justine De Mornay’s bed would not have to remind
themselves of this fact. After all, she was known far and wide as
one of the most beautiful widows in the country. With her glossy
black hair, porcelain skin and violet eyes, even Rafe was slightly
breathless when he thought of her. Ever since she came to England
from France, she had been pursued by the most eligible men of the
Ton and it had surprised no-one when she chose the most eligible of
them all, the vastly rich and titled Duke of Somewhere-or-Other
(right now the pompous oath’s name escaped him). And when the fool
had died suddenly by toppling from his horse during the Boxing Day
hunt, she had once again become the bright light that attracted the
moths. But the Earl of Langham was no moth and he had left them all
to flutter pathetically around her. Rather predictably, his obvious
indifference meant that she pursued him, most elegantly but also
tirelessly and relentlessly and, finally, in a moment of weakness
he had given in.