Page 90 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

“Most of them involve lighting shite on fire,” he growled, moments before his lips claimed hers.

She responded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting him kiss for kiss. When his lips moved along her jaw, she tipped her head to one side, breathing heavily.

“Fire?” she breathed. “Well, I myself am feeling quite warm.”

“Hot. Too hot. Ye should get out of some of these clothes, then.”

The rocking of the train car was suddenly erotic as her eyes twinkled naughtily. In one movement, she pulled away from him and gathered up her skirts. “There is no need for anything so drastic, my lord.”

With that, she climbed into his lap, straddling him.

“What are ye doing, lass?”

Georgia grinned down at him. “I am distracting you.” Her hand dipped between them, fumbling for the buttons on his trousers. “We still have hours left in our barter, Demon, and I intend to make the most of them.”

Our barter.

Tomorrow, he would no longer have any claim to her.

Best make the most of her now.

Besides, this was the best damn distraction he could imagine.

He cupped the back of her neck possessively, and with a growl, pulled her mouth down to his.

It wasn’t until they were in the hired cab that Demon told her they were going to his mother’s home. Or, as she recalled, one of his properties, where his mother lived.

She tried to hide her reaction, but clearly was unsuccessful.

“Georgia, dinnae fash. Mrs. Kettel and Mary will have their hands full, preparing my townhouse. It makes more sense to stay with Mother tonight.”

Of course he was right, but she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of facing the woman Demon had described as “living in Society’s pocket”.

Would Regina Hayle remember the scandal which blackened Georgia’s name?

After the way she’d spent the last few weeks, did it matter?

Do not be foolish. No one knows you were in Scotland, much less what you were doing…not even Father. And do not forget that you have some friends in Society.

Right. Georgia exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. In the last few years, she’d cultivated friendships among the quieter ladies of Society, those who preferred the shadows instead of the limelight. Miss Elizabeth Merrin, Miss Felicity Montrose, and Lady Wilma Stafford were examples of women who could be counted on to use their brains instead of their—their—

Their whichever muscle it was that women used to gossip with.

Spleens?

Well, either way, they were her friends, and they had supported her since her return to Father’s house. And they would continue to support her, if it ever became known how she’d spent these last weeks.

You did it for Father. For Danielle. To give her a chance at happiness, since your own chance has been ruined.

Yes. Yes, for them. That’s why she’d signed Demon’s contract—that’s why she’d gone to Endymion in the first place. For Father. For Danielle. And her father would protect her from any scandal which might whisper about her.

Wouldn’t he?

By the time they reached the handsome home in Mayfair where Demon’s mother resided, Georgia’s stomach was a roiling mass of nerves. Which sounded disgusting, as if she’d eaten raw nerves for dinner, but it wasn’t far from the truth.

“Smile, Georgia,” Demon gruffly commanded as he lifted her down. “Mother doesnae bite.”

Didn’t she? Georgia couldn’t force a convincing smile, so she cloaked herself in an old trick learned from her Father; she schooled her expression into one of haughty politeness, as if the opinions of those around her mattered not. It had served her well in the months following Roger’s death and her return to Society, and it would serve her now.

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