Violet’s lashes fluttered as her gaze dropped to his lips. Every part of him remained tense but for the life of him, he could not push away. He dug his fingers into the carriage seat beside him. The moment might have been mere seconds, but it went on and on, endlessly stretching out, making the confines of the carriage grow hotter by the second.
She moved. Just a fraction of an inch but it was enough. It was the invitation he hadn’t understood he’d been waiting for. Her lips pursed and she lifted her head a little.
With a great rush of movement, he brought his mouth to hers and closed his eyes. He wasted no time on niceties, on carefully moving his lips over hers. This kiss claimed and burned, singed him to his soul.
And Violet—beautiful Violet—she kissed him as though he was the only man alive, as if she’d been waiting for him for a lifetime. Her hands flew around his shoulders and pinned her to him. She made noises too. Sweet, agreeable noises that reached deep down inside him and clutched at his heart.
Duke pressed the kiss harder so neither of them would mistake the fact that they had indeed kissed. Perhaps if he embedded the feel of her into his mind, he’d cease wanting her. Maybe this one extra kiss would do it—it would fix him of his need.
When he pushed a hand under her hair, and took the kiss deeper, he knew how wrong he was. After all, he’d kissed her before, and that had not cured him of his need for her, had it?
This kiss—this delectable, burning kiss that stole his breath and his thoughts and his very soul was not going to make the situation better. When her hand slid across his chest, then down and down, he groaned. People talked of him being a clever man, of his mind being quick. He’d never struggled with academic work, and he was one of the best lawyers in the country thanks to a mind that rarely struggled to untangle the complexities of the law.
Today, however, he had to be the most foolish man in the world. Violet stole sense from him and replaced it with only wanting her. He’d do anything just to kiss her more or to feel her body against his. Hell, he’d do anything just to be in her damned presence. He didn’t want to imagine a day when he didn’t see her smile or hear her laughter.
“Vi,” he muttered against her mouth when her hand continued lower, uncertain whether the word was a plea to stop or to continue. He should have known a woman of her age could be innocent but knowledgeable.
When her hand brushed the stiff fabric tented over his cock, he sucked in a painful breath. She paused and he opened his eyes. Her lips were red and swollen. He’d tousled some curls from her chignon in his roughness. He should be cursing himself for leaving her in such a state.
“Did that hurt?” she asked softly.
He gave a dry chuckle, unable to add any warmth to it. “Far from it.” He didn’t realize his response would embolden her.
With her gaze locked upon his, she moved her hand again and he closed his eyes with a groan. He might not have any common sense left but he was clever enough to know there was no fighting this. Violet Musgrave was about the most determined woman he knew, and he’d be damned if he tore himself apart for something he wanted more than his next breath.
He gripped the back of her neck, he took her mouth again, sweeping his tongue into the warmth whilst her hand explored the shape and size of him. He sealed his fate when he brought his other hand to her shoulder. No good could come of the touch, no matter how innocent a mere touching of a shoulder could seem. It was too close to temptation and Duke gave in, slipping his hand down and inside her pelisse.
She was warm and unbearably soft, his fingertips sliding across the silk of her dress and along the thick line of embroidery over her breasts like a map to what he desired most. He moved his hand up. Violet shivered and murmured his name.
The carriage came to an abrupt halt. The movement rocked her closer, her breast fitting perfectly into his hand. He snapped his eyes open and tore from the kiss, but their hands remained placed upon one another. He managed a crooked smile.
“Well, that was unexpected.”
Chapter Sixteen
Not even the freezing weather that welcomed Violet when she stepped out of the carriage and ignored Duke’s offered hand could quell the heat inside her. How could she be so brazen? How could she have let it get so far? If the carriage had not stopped briefly to let a cart go past, who knew what might have happened. The rest of the journey had been filled with silence and the pounding of her pulse whilst her cheeks blazed.
She dodged a frozen puddle and nodded in the direction of the house next to Duke’s. “Let’s try here first.”
“We should talk about what happened.”
Talk? Violet paused, a foot on the bottom step of the stairs leading up the elegant white townhouse. She wasn’t certain how she was even standing. Forget trying to form a sentence.
“We are here to investigate,” she told Duke without looking at him and taking the next few steps up toward the shiny black door. She eyed the brass door knocker, her distorted reflection mocking her.You’re silly,the reflection said. Silly for behaving so, silly for letting things go so far.
Silly for even imagining she could compete with Duke’s numerous lovers. She might not be the wallflower sort and had enjoyed her share of flirtations, but she knew little of what occurred between men and women but what she had overheard and read. Putting such knowledge into action was another matter and her cheeks warmed at the memory of how bold her hand had been.
She knocked sharply on the door.
“I think the Georgesons are in the country for Christmas,” Duke said.
She knocked again, the sound echoing the painful thud of her heart. Her lips still tingled, and her hair was not what it was. Her body tingled from head to toe and having Duke simply standing by her side was enough to make her want to collapse into a messy puddle upon this top step. Violet was used to behaving with dignity—with a family like hers someone had to—but all dignity had dissolved the moment Duke had put his mouth on hers.
He leaned in slightly. “I really do not think anyone is home.”
Jaw set, she swung the knocker so hard the impact rattled up her arm. All she had to do was not think of the kiss and most certainly not think about touching him. Or him touching her. Good Lord, his hand had felt wonderful, though.
“Let’s try the next house,” she declared after a few more moments of silence.