Page 38 of Not the Duke's Virgin

But even as she chastised him, she swayed closer, as if pulled by some invisible cord.

Simon’s eyes darkened. Gently, he tucked back a loose curl, letting his fingers graze her cheek. “I think you will find, my dear Victoria, that I can take whatever liberties I please.”

Victoria trembled at his husky tone but refused to back down. She stepped right up to him, her eyes blazing defiantly. “I belong to no man. Not you, nor your wretched brother.”

Before she could react, Simon grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. “No? Then prove it,” he challenged. “Show me you feel nothing.”

Victoria’s breath came fast and furious. How dare this arrogant man command her so! Indignant fury rose, poisoning all sensible thought.

Throwing caution aside, she grabbed Simon’s cravat and pressed her lips to his. He was momentarily startled by her ferocity but soon responded in kind, his mouth moving urgently over hers.

When they finally parted for air, Victoria gave him a heated look. “There! Do you see? I can resist you perfectly well.”

But even as she spoke the words, her fingers still clung tightly to his lapels.

Simon’s eyes blazed with cobalt fire. “Is that so, my little hellcat?” In one swift move, he swept her into his arms, his strong embrace imprisoning her. “I rather think it is you who cannot resist me.”

His head descended again, his hot mouth capturing hers once more. Victoria’s indignant protests died on her lips as he kissed her deeply and thoroughly. The taste and feel of him was intoxicating, scattering all thought.

Helplessly, she arched into him, fervently returning each burning kiss. Simon’s strong hands roamed down her back, pressing her ever closer. It was unlike any embrace she had experienced before.

When at last they parted, both were breathing raggedly. Victoria’s mind raced. She had never lost control so completely or taken such liberty with a gentleman.

Simon gazed down at her swollen lips and disheveled hair with undisguised male satisfaction. “What was that you were saying about resisting me, sweet?”

The endearment sent a new jolt of sensation through her.

Victoria pushed weakly at his chest. “I—this was… I did not…” she stammered.

At that moment, a voice called out from within. “Lady Victoria? Are you out there?”

Victoria’s eyes widened in panic. She tore herself from Simon’s embrace and frantically tried to tidy her appearance.

Simon stepped casually away just as Madeline appeared on the terrace. “There you are, Cousin! Are you quite all right?”

“Yes, fine!” Victoria winced at the unnaturally high pitch of her voice. She risked a glance at Simon, who appeared nonchalant.

“Forgive me, Miss Russell, I was just taking the air with Lady Victoria.” His smooth tone gave no hint of their passionate tryst.

Madeline smiled innocently. “Of course, Your Grace. I hope you are not catching a chill out here, Cousin?”

“No, let us go in. I have… regained my composure.” Victoria longed to escape further scrutiny.

As she allowed Madeline to lead her inside, she risked one last look over her shoulder. Simon watched her go with a smoldering gaze that promised this was far from over.

CHAPTER10

The third day of the lavish house party at Hayward Manor dawned clear and mild. Victoria awoke feeling refreshed, the past night’s turbulent passions settling into perspective with the new day’s light.

She rang for the maid to help her dress in a pretty day dress made of sunny yellow muslin, hoping the cheerful hue would lift her spirits. Madeline was already awake and chattering enthusiastically about the day’s diversions.

“I do so look forward to what His Grace has planned! Reading aloud and charades shall make for a delightful day.”

Victoria smiled indulgently as her cousin prattled on, thankful for her buoyant nature. It helped counterbalance Victoria’s disquiet. She tried to focus on the day ahead rather than replaying every detail of last night’s steamy encounter with Simon.

Soon they were descending the grand staircase, greeted by the scents of a sumptuous breakfast wafting from the dining room. Fresh floral arrangements adorned the table, which was laden with platters of sizzling meats, towers of fluffy pastries, tureens of creamy porridge, and pots of fragrant coffee and tea.

Madeline immediately helped herself to sausages and rolls with jam. “I vow Cook’s fare is beyond compare! I shall have to be rolled out of here by the week’s end.”

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