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  He grabbed her tightly then, cupping her round bottom and pulling her flush up against his aching body. Surely he would scandalize her, for she couldn’t miss his rigid cock pressed against her soft belly. To his delighted surprise, her hands stole up to the back of his neck and she arched toward him. Unable to resist her invitation, he brought a hand to one breast and cupped her. She fit him perfectly.

  “Lord Chester.” She sighed into his mouth.

  “William,” he softly corrected.

  She flicked her tongue over his lower lip and smiled. “William.”

  His name on her lips, her voice breathy and low, made him throb. Turning, he settled her on the chaise set in the alcove and plundered her mouth. Her hands clutched at him as she placed teasing kisses on his throat. This wasn’t the shy girl she showed to society. That was certain. This was the sensual woman he’d sensed almost from the start.

  He couldn’t withstand the pressure much longer. Burying his face in her cleavage, he breathed deeply of her lily scent and dragged his tongue over her flesh. She shivered at the contact.

  He dipped a finger into her bodice, teasing a rigid nipple where it strained against her stays. She made a sound of need, raw and low. He withdrew his hand to steal beneath her skirts. Her gasp stilled him and he looked up to find her eyes staring into his.

  “William, what are you doing?” she asked.

  His hand moved up her thigh, just where her stocking ended and her silky skin began. He smiled down at her.

  “Forgetting myself, apparently,” he managed to say.

  He reluctantly withdrew his hand and smoothed her gown, grateful he hadn’t noticeably wrinkled it. Risking a glance at her face, he saw her color was high and her breath still coming fast. Unable to resist, he kissed her again.

  When he finally pulled away, she gazed up at him for a long moment. “I must go,” she said at last.

  Yes, she must. Yet her hands were still up around his neck. He leaned back and shifted, his body aching, and gently slipped from her grasp. She gazed down at her hands, seemingly at a loss over what to do with them. He had a few suggestions. The thought of her cool satin gloves wrapped around his aching shaft made him curse under his breath.

  “Go,” he said, urging her to her feet. “It won’t do for anyone to see us leaving together.”

  She stared at him, apparently uncomprehending.

  “You’re flushed, Constance. If anyone were to see how you affected me as well, there would be little question about what we did in here.”

  She stood and looked down at the chaise, then gave a shiver. “What we almost did, Lord Chester.”

  With that cool utterance, the intimacy of the moment was shattered. He inclined his head and she hurried from the alcove. Shifting, he tried to ease himself into a more comfortable position.

  * * *

  Constance all but ran to the ladies’ retiring room. Oh, what she had just done! Almost done, she quickly corrected herself. She brought a trembling hand to her lips, casting a gaze about to make sure no one paid her any undue attention. As usual, she managed to escape notice.

  Lady Constance Bridges, the late Earl of Bridgewater’s daughter, was just as she should be at the moment. A young lady slightly fatigued from a vigorous dance with a proper gentleman. Pity she was far from that. She was a woman on fire for a man who’d been anything but proper in that alcove.

  She closed her eyes, unable to keep from reliving every blessed moment she’d passed with Lord Chester—William!—in that closed space. He’d given her the lead, let her kiss him if she wanted to, and she’d taken it willingly. He tasted as good as she’d suspected, warm and smooth and slightly spicy, like his scent she’d caught since first making his acquaintance three years ago. She hadn’t known what she’d wanted then. How could she? She’d just come out, with little experience and no nerve to speak of. He’d been what he presented himself to be, an affable gentleman who was always friendly and achingly perfect.

  He was perfect. Every naughty thing he’d done to her tonight had been everything she’d wanted. His lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth. His kisses on her breasts, his finger teasing her nipple. Only when he moved those clever fingers up her leg had she finally summoned the conviction to stop him. What if she hadn’t? Would he have touched her … there?

  “Oh, my.” She breathed.

  “What was that, Constance?” a woman asked.

  Constance turned to find Lady Brookdale eyeing her closely. The pretty widow tilted her head to one side and for a moment Constance feared she knew everything that had happened between her and William. She felt her cheeks heat but smoothed her countenance of any giveaway expression.

  “Nothing, Lady Brookdale,” she said with a small smile.

  The lady nodded. “Nothing, indeed. This party is woefully dull, don’t you think?”

  Dull? Hardly. “I suppose,” she answered.

  “I saw you with Lord Chester earlier.” The widow’s eyes sparkled. “Handsome fellow, like his circle of friends.”

  Constance could only nod her agreement.

  “Pity Lord Roberts isn’t here.” Lady Brookdale pouted. “I daresay the evening would be anything but dull with his charming self about.” The provocative statement was accompanied with a glint in her eye. “I do hope he returns to town soon.”

  Constance didn’t care if Lord Roberts brought his charming self to London or not, save for the fact that he was good friends with William. Roberts might be the most beautiful man in the ton, but she wanted more than that. She wanted strength and heat and kisses and caresses, and …

  “Pity Lord Chester is so bloody perfect,” Lady Brookdale said.

  Constance turned to her. “Why?”

  The lady preened. “If he was a shade less than a paragon, perhaps I could tempt him into an assignation.”

  Constance’s mouth dropped open. “Lady Brookdale!”

  “Oh, I realize you are untried, but you must be getting tired of keeping up your own façade.”

  “My façade?” Constance did a quick review of her actions tonight, as well as those in public this season. Nothing untoward, not a whiff of scandal, hung about her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Lady Brookdale smiled indulgently and patted her hand before coming to her feet. “I know you don’t. Not yet. I daresay you will, however.”

  “Lady Brookdale, I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”

  “You run in their circle, my dear. Kane and Leed and Chester, not to mention the delectable Roberts. They can’t help but draw attention, dashing nobles that they are.”

  With that, the lady swept out of the retiring room. Constance leaned back, sucking in a deep breath as she pondered everything the widow said. Was she in danger of ruining her perfect reputation, simply by being in William’s company? She was certainly in danger of ruin itself. That was true. Had anyone seen her wanton behavior in the alcove, she would spoil more than her lauded reputation. Her stomach clenched as the truth settled on her.

  She was afraid her involvement with William would ultimately break her heart.

  Chapter 3

  “What gentlemen did you dance with, dear?” Lady Bridgewater asked.

  Constance eyed her mother, seeing the acute interest stamped on her face. She sipped her tea and picked up a piece of toast.

  “Several, Mother,” she answered. “None more than two times, though.”

  “Of course not.” Her mother sniffed. “Unless … was Lord Chester there?”

  Constance managed to swallow around the tightness in her throat. Keeping her own face impassive, she nodded. “Yes.”

  “And he didn’t press for more, Constance? Another dance, I mean?”

  “He would never do so.”

  “No.” Lady Bridgewater sighed. “I don’t suppose he would.”

  Constance took another sip of tea, then carefully set the cup in its saucer. “What did you wish him to do? Debauch me on the dance floor?”

  H
er mother’s jaw dropped. “Constance! How can you say such a thing? I daresay you’ve been keeping company with Diane Plymouth for too long.”

  Constance hid her smile. That was something that Diane would say, only the girl would probably add that she wanted to be the one doing the debauching.

  “Nevertheless, the earl comported himself as he always does.”

  “Yes, yes. The man is perfect.”

  Constance recalled his lips on hers, his fingers on her skin, and silently agreed.

  “So where does that leave you, dear?”

  “Leave me?”

  “You must have some inkling of the gentlemen who have paid calls and asked for dances,” her mother said. “Is there any one of them you can see coming up to snuff?”

  Constance’s mouth dropped open. “You mean, ask me to marry them?”

  “It’s high time you were settled. Decide which man you want and set your cap on him.”

  Constance’s throat tightened. “Mother, I could never be so forward.”

  “Then be prepared to be left behind as Sarah and Diane and all your other friends find husbands. You’re far too sweet and beautiful to spend your life on the shelf.”

  Her mother rose and left the breakfast room, no doubt leaving her daughter to consider her parting words. And Constance did so.

  She went cold. The shelf. The spinster’s fate, the place a woman languishes as she watches the rest of society live life. She felt her spine stiffen as resolve cloaked her.

  “I won’t end up on the shelf, Mother,” she said to herself. “Believe me.”

  She wanted a real life with a real man. That real man was none other than William. Her body trembled as she thought of the tenderness she’d seen in his eyes. What did he feel for her, aside from his obvious desire? Did he want to take his pleasure and leave her with nothing? No. Even as she contemplated that awful prospect, she knew he wasn’t that kind of rake. He was noble and good, perfect in every way. If she indulged in everything she wished he would do to her, he would do the right thing. The expected thing. He would marry her.

  The sad fact was that, as much as she would love to spend her days with such a wonderful man, she didn’t want those days colored with regret.

  * * *

  William stood on another bloody dance floor, at another bloody ton party, doing his best to keep his feet rooted on the floor. He’d seen her already, that girl he couldn’t get out of his mind. She was the reason he was at this party and, even though he couldn’t stand the sight of Waltham since he’d thrown over his best friend’s sister for another, he was now married to one of Constance’s good friends. Even a trip to his favorite pub, and a prospective romp with his favorite serving girl, couldn’t rouse either interest or desire. Instead he’d stayed home for the past few nights, missing Constance.

  “Are you satisfied, Lord Chester?” he heard a woman say beside him.

  He found Lady Brookdale sliding a hot look at him. “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Are you satisfied,” she said, “with the evening of course.”

  “Oh, of course,” he repeated. “Yes, Lady Brookdale it is quite satisfactory.”

  “Pity, that.” She sighed. “I was just thinking that perhaps you and I could find something to entertain ourselves at this crushingly dull party.”

  “I daresay Lady Joan might take offense to your words,” he said, letting his disinterest chill his voice.

  She pulled back, her brows arched. “As you do, evidently.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Your opinion, voiced or otherwise, is of no interest to me.”

  He watched as she grasped his meaning. She meant nothing to him and her words even less. She stiffened, lifted her chin, and strolled away from him.

  “Good riddance,” he muttered.

  “Talking to yourself, Lord Chester?” that familiar husky voice asked.

  His body flushed with heat and he turned to see Constance. Yes, she’d been breathtaking from across the room, her curves wrapped in a pretty, pink dress. Now that she was close enough, he could almost feel her. It was all he could do not to grab her and run his hands all over her. He thought of Lady Brookdale’s question. Satisfied? He couldn’t be further from it at the moment.

  “Eavesdropping, Constance?”

  She gave him a cheeky smile, one that drew a very different reaction in him from Lady Brookdale’s cynical smirk. The tilt of her rosy lips drove the blood from his head straight down to his groin. He couldn’t restrain himself, and a soft growl escaped. The answering heat in her eyes made him want to howl instead.

  “Take care, Constance,” he warned.

  She looked about, and then leaned closer. He watched the swells of her breasts rise as she took a bracing breath. “Do you care, William?”

  He pulled back. “What?”

  “Do you care about my reputation?”

  He blinked. She couldn’t mean what he presumed. Was she looking to get ruined?

  “It seems one of us must,” he said.

  To his amazement, her smile widened. “Oh, I care. Just how much at the moment, that’s a mystery even to me.”

  Her gaze flicked over him, in open curiosity. Was she thinking about what they did in that alcove the other night? God knew he’d never forget, no matter how brief and frustrating the encounter had ultimately been.

  “I love a good mystery,” he said, testing the waters.

  A flush rose from her delightful bosom to her smooth cheeks as her lips parted. “Care to indulge me?” she asked, that soft, husky note pulling at him.

  It was all he could to do to keep from grabbing her there in plain sight. “Constance …” he said with a warning tone in his voice.

  She tilted her head then shrugged. “I suppose I can persuade another gentleman to assist me.”

  A hot flash of jealousy struck him. “What are you saying?”

  She turned again, giving him her exquisite profile as she appeared to consider the other men in attendance. “I want to explore more of what you showed me last week, William, but if you’re not the man to do that …”

  He stepped closer, blocking her view of the partygoers and hopefully theirs of her. “I’m the man.”

  She gazed up at him again. “Come, then. Let’s go find a place to … discuss matters.”

  A warning bell trilled in the back of his mind, that this was exactly the situation that could get him leg-shackled. This was Constance, though. If such a circumstance arose, perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible.

  He leaned closer, breathing in her lily scent. “Where, love?”

  Answering heat filled her eyes at the endearment. “Follow me,” she said.

  She presented her usual look of cool detachment as she made her way through the crowd and headed toward a doorway on the far left of the ballroom. Where was the little minx going? When she turned in the doorway and cast him a look over one creamy shoulder, he suddenly didn’t care. He’d follow her anywhere.

  She disappeared and he casually made his way in the same direction. Leaving the sounds of the party behind, he strolled down a hallway. After passing a few open doors, he believed he was getting closer. Her scent lingered in the hall, pulling him toward temptation.

  “Here, William,” he heard her call softly.

  His pulse tripped as he spied the hem of her pink dress several feet ahead of him. She ducked into a room he soon saw was a library. He quickly took in the furnishings, nice plump chairs, a settee by the fireplace. It was too open, though. Too conspicuous. He didn’t know what she had in mind, but he didn’t relish the idea of being found out.

  “Constance?” he whispered.

  “Back here.”

  He found her standing before one of the tall bookcases lining the walls. He joined her, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you plan to recite sonnets to me?”

  She laughed, a light sound that caused a shifting in his chest. “Oh, should I sing a song to your eyes?”

  He smiled. “Hardly. Now what are you about?”r />
  She winked and removed a slim volume tucked to one side. The wall shifted. “A secret door, William. To a secret chamber.”

  The door swung open on silent hinges and she stepped inside. He followed her, finding a cozy room with a small desk and a plush chaise.

  “Lady Joan’s late father’s study,” she said in explanation.

  He looked around as she shut the door, sealing them in privacy. She crossed to the desk and lit a lamp there.

  “How do you know about this place?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I’ve been friends with Joan since childhood. I know this house as well as my own.”

  “Oh, I thought …” He smiled. “Never mind.”

  “What did you think? That I’ve conducted other assignations with other gentlemen?”

  He knew she hadn’t, and the teasing look in her eyes caused his body to tighten. “Is this an assignation, love?”

  Those eyes darkened as she stepped closer. “You tell me.”

  He didn’t know what she wanted, save for a taste of what they’d shared before. Damn him to hell, he’d give her that, and more.

  “Come here,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I believe this is whatever you want it to be, Constance.”

  She didn’t hesitate, just wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She was so sweet, so hot, as she drove her tongue into his mouth. Damn, but she was a quick learner. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he let it fall to the carpet beneath their feet. Wrapping his arms around her, he grabbed her bottom and pulled her hard against him. She made the most arousing sounds, sighing and moaning, as her passions were awakened. As for him, his cock was at full attention and if he didn’t slow this down, he would take her and seal both their fates.

  “Easy,” he said, pulling his mouth from hers. He licked his lips. “God, you’re so sweet … but we can’t do this.”

  Her lips, still swollen from their wild kisses, turned down. “But I thought you wanted me.”

  “That is an understatement,” he said with a smile. “We have to be care—ah, hell.”