Free A Desperate Wager by Em Taylor

he was standing rather than stalking from one side of the drawing room to another.
    “ Ring the bell and I shall order tea. You need to sober up.”
    He had the grace to look ashamed, then did as he was bid. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. So now she knew he had a jealous streak and an alcohol problem. It looked as if she would have her work cut o ut for her. The alcohol was long-term and probably could only be tackled once they were married. But who had started the rumour? She had a feeling she was right. It was someone else with her eye on the title of duchess.

Chapter Eighteen
    Sarah looked up from her book as Nathaniel was led into the garden. Two visits in as many days. Anyone would think he liked her.
    He had been announced , and she had accepted his calling card. He looked perfect in buff breeches, a mustard-coloured waistcoat and a dark green coat.
    The memory of being pressed against his body on the night of the ball came to her again as she watched hi m stride towards her. His breeches showed off the contours of his long, muscular thighs, flexing and lengthening with each step. Her gaze moved up the length of them to the placket and the buttons. In less than a week, the secret his pantaloons hid would be revealed to her. Her daring perusal of his lower half made her breasts feel tight and caused a strange warming tension below her belly—almost in that most private part of her. But that could not be so. Why would dancing and memories of dancing cause such strange feelings?
    “ Good afternoon, My Lady.”
    “ Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
    He looked around the garden, frowning.
    “Is there a bench somewhere that is a little more… um… private?”
    “ Behind that rhododendron bush.”
    “ Ah! Excellent.”
    She squeaked in surprise when he bent down and lifted her off the bench, walked round the large plant and deposited her on the cold metal bench. He was strong and steady today and did not smell of alcohol. She breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he only drank when he was concerned about things. And frankly this whole situation would make anyone tense.
    “Your Grace! I thought we had this discussion about you manhandling me against my will.”
    “ Do you want me to kiss you in front of all the servants?” he asked, a grin settling on his features.
    “ No! But…”
    He moved his tall frame to sit beside her and tipped her chin towards him. He was going to kiss her again. Stirrings in her belly and below fluttered to life as he pressed his warm , wet lips against hers. This time she had some idea of what to do. She moved her lips over his, turning her head to change the angle as he slipped an arm around her waist. His kiss was soft and gentle. She lifted her hand and pushed it into his dark curls, enjoying the softness running through her fingertips.
    He nipped her lower lip, then kissed the corners of her mouth. He was teasing her, for she knew there was more. She stuck out her tongue and pressed it against his lips. He opened his mouth, a small grunt of approval coming from deep in his throat, welcoming her intrusion, allowing her to flick her tongue in and out, exploring little by little. Her breasts felt heavy and she wanted to wriggle in her seat, though her cumbersome limbs would not allow for such things.
    Nathaniel pressed his tongue inside her mouth, sweeping it around with none of her tentativeness. His strokes were bold and needy. He growled deep in his throat as he moved his hands—one to the nape, to guide her head to the right angle and the other… to her breast. His touch was delicious.
    She pulled away from the kiss , but he appeared not to notice. He just moved his lips to her jaw, pressing delicate kisses up towards her ear. Her head spun. There seemed to be two different Nates. This possessive, desperate, sexual man who found her so appealing he could not keep his hands to himself and the uptight, often drunk Peer of the Realm.
    He brushed a thumb over her nipple , making