Free This Earl Is on Fire by Vivienne Lorret Page A

more attention to the way she watched him rather than how hungry he was. Even so, he thoroughly enjoyed this coverlet picnic, the simple yet flavorful fare, and also the company.
    When he swallowed, she swallowed too, a tantalizing undulation. And before he could stop his naughty mind, he thought of the soft, wet inner tissue of her throat, her tongue, her lips . . .
    He shifted on the bed. While his main hunger was satisfied, another part of him . . . wasn’t. It didn’t help matters that she was sitting across from him wearing only her ruffled nightclothes and her unbound mass of fawn-colored hair. It was so long and thick that she was practically sitting on it. She was a veritable Rapunzel or Lady Godiva. He couldn’t decide. Though the fact that she’d grabbed her wrapper before she’d returned with the tray forced him to stick with the former. In fact, he wished she were locked away in a tower, far from him.
    Abruptly, the sharp hitch in his side returned, cinching like a vise around his lungs. With such pleasant distractions, he’d almost forgotten the reason he was here.
    He closed his eyes and lowered the last bite of bread, exhaling through clenched teeth. “Miss Pimm, I require the sound of your voice.”
    â€œOh,” she said, the syllable too brief to offer much relief.
    He felt the air stir beside him, and a shadow cross his closed lids. His eyes squinted open to see her standing beside him. “Don’t go.”
    â€œI’m not. I’m merely removing the tray so that you can lie back.” And she did, even slipping the half-eaten bread from his fingers. Then she returned from the sideboard in quick order, reclaiming her place on the chair. “Shall I recite poetry, do you think? But no, I do not take you for either the maudlin or romantic sort. Perhaps I should quote from Fordyce’s Sermons ? While they were written for the proper behavior of young women, I’m certain they would suit a man who finds himself in the gossip pages quite well.”
    He made an effort not to cringe as he settled back against the pillows and headboard, still mostly sitting. “Ah. Then you have read the Standard .”
    â€œThe author spoke of a masquerade you had apparently attended. You are the only confirmed guest because they found your cloak and mask in the center of a maze. What was it that you were doing in the center of the maze?”
    â€œScandalous things, I’m sure. I’ve earned my place in the gossip pages,” he admitted.
    â€œAs I’ve been warned,” she responded, unmoved. “Though it sounds to me as if you do not remember. Did you attend the masquerade?”
    â€œI believe so. I do recall a rather lively party and walking through the maze with a masked woman with an enticing decolle —” He stopped. “Well, that part doesn’t matter. However, then my memory goes rather hazy. That must have been when I met up with a rather jealous protector or husband.”
    â€œShe was married ?”
    â€œI could not tell you for certain. However, I usually avoid married women—and their jealous husbands—for the obvious reasons.” He gestured with a sweep of his hand over his face and torso. “I am afraid to inform you, Miss Pimm, but we live in a world of debauchery.”
    â€œYou’re mocking me. And not only that, but you’re mocking the union of two souls who will forever be united.”
    He marveled at her complexion. Her face was not the pale perfection of milk that so many women powdered themselves to oblivion in order to achieve. Instead, her skin had a faint but healthy pinkish glow that made her look sun-kissed, even in the light of a single taper. So innocent and pure. Pity .
    â€œHmm . . . I keep forgetting that this is your first experience with society. Your naivety is somewhat refreshing. It allows me to see this wicked society with fresh eyes, eager for corruption all over