She gave him a forlorn look. ‘And if I don’t want to go home?’
He fastened the last button on his trousers and stood in front of her, running a hand through his already tousled hair. ‘Lillian, this isn’t how I wanted the evening to end either, but we can’t risk lingering here now. Browning’s not a bad sort but once he’s in his cups, he might mention that I’ve been here, and with a mystery companion. I’d rather not stay in case his friends decide to probe further and, hopefully, by morning they’ll be too busy nursing their sore heads to inquire about my new love.’ He turned his back. ‘Put on your chemise and then I’ll help with your gown.’
Lillian pulled his shirt over her head and then held it her nose. The fabric smelled like him, earthy and male, and she hated having to hand it over. She’d rather keep it as a reminder of how close she’d been to his naked chest, in case she never sighted it again.
She pushed it into his hand. ‘Here,’ she said, unable to keep the snarl out of her voice.
‘Lillian, don’t be angry,’ he said, still not looking at her. ‘I’m sorry. So very sorry. I wanted to…’
She laid her hand on his back and closed her eyes. His skin felt hot and she had a sudden urge to lick, to soothe, and to hold on tight and not let go, yet delaying was imprudent and Brent would fret until he’d removed them both from here. ‘What did you want, Brent. Tell me.’
His chest heaved under her palm and a shiver rippled down his spine. “Everything. I wanted to explore every curve and crevice of you body. I wanted to suck your pretty nipples until wiggled and writhed and climaxed and then I was going to slide deep inside you and fuck you until dawn. Take you a dozen different ways.’
She gasped, dropped her forehead to his back, and slid her arms around his waist. He leaned back into her embrace. ‘I wanted that too.’ She kissed the bare skin between his shoulder blades. ‘I still want that, all of it.’
‘It will be impossible with you living in the duke’s house.’
‘Brent, please, I need you. Please tell me we can tray again, somewhere else, by ourselves.’
He covered her hands with his and dropped his head back against hers. ‘We’ll have to work something out because, Lillian, now that I’ve kissed you and touched you, I won’t let you go. I can’t.’ He shrugged into his shirt and turned to help her dress in her gown. ‘Damnation. No shoes.’
She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Well, I’ve always wanted to be Cinderella running barefoot from the ball.’
CHAPTER FIVE
BRENT GROANED, slid his hands through Lillian’s hanging hair, and kissed her, softly and sweetly. ‘You’re amazing. I’ve never met anyone as sweet, yet confident, as you, Lillian.’
‘Huh, it’s easier to act with confidence and experience when noon knows that I’m Lady Armstrong, widow of a horrible man and dutiful daughter to an over-bearing duke.’
‘I know how hard it’s been for you and I’d give anything to shoulder some of your burdens and lighten your spirits.’
‘Oh, Brent. The only reason I’ve survived the torment and humiliation of being a disgraced widow is because you wrote to me, every week. Your letters gave me hope that the debates about how Geoffrey died, and why, would eventually lessen and that I simply had to wait until a bigger scandal pushed me off the front page of the gossip rags.’ She clasped his cheeks and drew his head down for a kiss. ‘You’re the reason I’m here.’
‘Me? If I’d known about this little adventure of yours, I’d have…’ His shoulders sagged. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done.’
She laughed. ‘You’d have done the honorable thing and found a way to stop me, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, yes, of course.’ He frowned. ‘I hate the idea of you being in peril. Of ever being in a situation where someone could hurt you, especially if I’m not there.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Thank the heavens that Michael goaded me into coming with him, or one of these rogues might have loaded you with punch and brought you to one of these bedrooms.’ He waved his hand to indicate the row of bedchambers on this level of the house.
Lillian threw back her head and laughed.
He shook his head. ‘Sweetheart, this isn’t a laughing matter. Drunken men, even so-called men of honor, will try any trick to lure a gorgeous woman into bed.’