Page 40 of The Beast of Beswick
Good Lord, but she was stubborn. Thane wanted to force her to listen, but intimidating her would never work. Her tenacity and pride rivaled his, and she would dig her heels in if she had to. He needed to change his tactics.
“I never took you for a coward,” he said.
“I beg your pardon,” she shot back. “How dare you? I’m no coward!”
Thane grinned. “And we’re back to you begging. I already like where this conversation is going.”
“Go to the devil.” She whirled on her heel, but he blocked her path easily, barring the door with one hand. “Let me out, Beswick.”
“I like it when you call me Thane.”
“And I’d like it if you dropped dead.”
He pressed his free hand to his heart with a mock sigh. “So bloodthirsty for such a puny female.”
Her eyes flashed blue fire. “I know what you’re trying to do, Beswick, and it won’t work. You see, I actually have a working brain, unlike the other females of your acquaintance.”
Thane grinned, his arm lowering to capture her waist. “That big brain of yours is what I’m counting on.”
And then he took her lips with his.
Chapter Eleven
Astrid’s very capable brain was supremelyincapableof thought, blanketed as she was with a huge, determined duke. And truth was, she didn’t want to. She’d wanted to wrap herself around him and kiss him the moment he’d thundered into the village, and she wasn’t about to deny herself the occasion, no matter how irate she was.
Dreadful know-it-all man.
Though sweet Lord in heaven, he knew how to kiss.
It was as if he were born to it. Born to use that sinful mouth of his in every decadent way. Even now, it nipped at hers, coaxing her lips to part wider, his tongue sliding in and out in silken, teasing strokes. Taking, giving. Demanding, worshipping.
“Take this down,” he muttered thickly, his hands going to the pins in her hair. She felt the mass tumble down her back and heard his satisfied groan as he dug his fingers into it, cupping her nape in his large palms as his mouth found hers again.
This was only their second kiss, and though it tasted the same—hot and dark and sweet—itfeltdifferent. This kiss was evocative of winter nights in front of a fireplace, of spiced wine and delicious secrets.
“Say my name,” he whispered between breaths.
She wanted to resist, but her lips wanted his more. “Thane.”
The reward was explosive as his mouth slanted hotly over hers. His clever tongue ignited a pulsating ache in her breasts and between her thighs and sent shivers over her skin. She was awash with sensation. Withfire, and she wanted to burn.
Astrid wound boneless arms around his neck and clung to him, even as he lifted her easily into his own and deposited them both into a nearby armchair. Cradling her body to him, his lips left hers to travel down her throat in sensual nudges and bites until all she could do was sigh in pleasure and give in to his skill. Vaguely, she became aware of his straining arousal beneath her thighs, and she murmured a half protest about servants, which he promptly smothered with his mouth.
She was so lost in the web of passion that she didn’t hear the commotion at the door until it was too late. Far too late.
“Good God, Astrid, what are youdoing?”
Isobel’s shocked face swam into view when Astrid tore her lips away from Beswick’s. But it wasn’t her sister who made her scramble out of the duke’s lap, it was the veritable entourage behind her. Including her aunt and uncle, Lady Mabel, a gentleman she did not recognize, an openly gloating Fletcher…and Lady Ashley. Astrid cringed at the last. The stylishly appointed lady was the pinnacle of Southend society. And its arbiter.
Astrid blinked in horror, staring down the tableau of her own ruin.
Again.
Lady Ashley’s presence at Beswick Park was no accident.
Once more, she’d been betrayed by a man, only this time, it wasn’t a lie. And there were witnesses. Witnesses whose expressions ran the usual gambit upon seeing Beswick in the flesh. Fear, loathing, and horror were written on her aunt’s and uncle’s faces, though those were quickly eclipsed by hostility. Isobel and Lady Ashley looked properly scandalized, Lady Mabel stricken. The unfamiliar man wore no expression at all.
Astrid glared accusingly at the duke, who had risen to stand beside her, her voice a low hiss. “Did you arrange this?”
