Page 10 of Rules for Heiresses
But the daring hoyden didn’t hesitate, her lips surging to meet his.
The feel of her was sublime, the demanding pressure nearly making his eyes roll back in his head as she fused their lips together. She smelled of lemon balm, but beneath the citrus, he detected the slightest hint of plumeria. Courtland breathed in, curving his arm up behind her shoulder to cup her nape, parting his lips and coaxing her to do the same with an urgent flick of his tongue. Moaning into his mouth, Ravenna opened instantly for him.
Not wasting a single second, his tongue delved in and found hers, seeking her warm, pliant depths, another sound of pleasure escaping her. A hint of wine from earlier at the tables clung to her lips and tongue, but beyond that was a taste all hers. Like dessert and decadence. Honey with a hint of hot island peppers.Intoxicating.
Craving more, he thirsted for every silky inch of her skin. Dragging his lips away, he dropped heated kisses down her jawline to the poorly tied cravat that hid the length of her elegant neck. Her pulse fluttered madly, echoing the equally frantic thud of his.
“May I?” he muttered insensibly, fingers hooking into the knot.
She sighedyes, eyes dilated with need, and he wasted no time in removing the offending fabric gathered at her throat. He’d barely tugged it off before his lips descended again in nips and brushes and desperate licks against her fragrant skin. His busy fingers anticipated his wants and moved to the opening of her shirt. Courtland was a hairsbreadth away from ripping the damned thing in half when the clearing of a throat halted him midmotion.
Ravenna froze beneath him, and they wrenched apart to stare at the gaping door, where half the hotel stood, including a grinning Rawley and one red-faced, utterly aghast Mr. Bingham.
* * *
“There’s no hope for it. They’ll have to marry at once.”
The solicitor’s solemn proclamation broke the spell that was holding her body in place, pinned like a rag doll beneath the Duke of Ashvale’s very muscled, very hard bulk. Ravenna could feel every last inch of him, including the straining ones pressing lewdly—deliciously—between her thighs.
Despite being untouched, Ravenna wasn’tthatinnocent. A girl didn’t pretend to be a man and live on a ship without hearing about more than a few filthy things. But for the first time in her life, she wanted to experience all the erotic stories she’d overheard. Why had no one told her what kissing a man could feel like? That a tongue could be so sleek and persuasive? That teeth could scrape and nibble and tease into a frenzy. That the world could end and she wouldn’t even notice.
She’d felt that kiss in her breasts, in her belly, and between her legs…taking over her every nerve like a tidal surge. Suddenly, she wanted him to kiss her again, their uninvited audience be damned.
Deuce it, there was anaudience!
Her cheeks flamed anew.
“Get off me,” she muttered, shoving fruitlessly at the duke’s hard chest, but attempting to move him was like trying to move a boulder. Mortification spread like a tide through her body at the sight of the somber solicitor. The late duke’s man of business, and from his appalled expression, a very proper, stick-in-the-mud, all-for-propriety-and-blue-blooded-decorum Englishman. Blast her dratted luck.
“I won’t marry him,” she blurted out, finally wiggling away and scrambling to her feet.
“I don’t intend to wed,” Courtland said at the same time, rising and moving to his desk.
Good, then the matter was settled.
Mr. Bingham stepped into the room, nodding to one of the prune-faced ladies at his back to accompany him. He closed the door to the office behind them. Ravenna blinked. The woman was older and clearly nobility, given her gown and stance. It was obvious Bingham intended for her to be a chaperone, though Ravenna didn’t know what dregs of modesty she’d be expected to protect. The ruined cat was well and truly out of the bag.
A resigned expression passed over Courtland’s face, a suffocated noise leaving his lips as if he was realizing the same. “Lady Holding,” he greeted. “Good to see you.”
Ravenna’s heart sank. Good Lord, could her luck get anyworse? Lady Holding was a denizen of local society. In addition, she was a passing acquaintance of her mother’s from when they were in finishing school and they still kept in touch. It was the reason Ravenna had chosen Antigua in the first place. She had read her mother’s correspondence with Lady Holding and the island had felt familiar. Any remaining dregs of hope she’d had to get out of this unscathed died a sad, swift death.
“Not so nice on your end, I’d wager, Your Grace,” Lady Holding replied with a toss of her well-coiffed head. “The tongues will be wagging after today.”
Her eyes moved to Ravenna, who met the lady’s stare evenly, though the weight of judgment made her skin prickle and itch. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Lady Ravenna, and your wild, unseemly exploits, so much so that your poor mother has despaired of ever finding a proper match for you.”
“I’m not ready for marriage,” she said calmly. “Embry knows this.”
“Then the fault lies with your brother, the duke, for not taking you firmly in hand.”
Ravenna almost snorted. The day when any man felt he could take herin handwould be the day that hell became a wintry wonderland. The irony wasn’t lost on her that Rhystan’s wife was also an unrepentant hellion who did not live by any man’s rules, least of all her brother’s. Ravenna nearly giggled at the long-suffering expression on Courtland’s face, a look she recognized. He’d thought her unchecked andout of handfor years.
“Your mama writes that Dalwood approached Embry with an offer for you,” Lady Holding went on.
A wave of pure disgust buried Ravenna’s amusement. “Dalwood is a revolting pig I wouldn’t let near my worst enemy.”
Lady Holding huffed, face going purple. “Well, I never. The marquess is well connected and an acceptable match for a girl of your station.” She peered down the length of her hooked nose at her. “Though at this point, you’d be lucky to receive any offer from anyone worth his salt, and the fortune-hunting scoundrels will come out in droves.” She tossed her head and stared down her long nose at the solicitor. “Mr. Bingham, I cannot help the chit if she refuses to be helped.”
“Lady Holding, with all due respect, I would rather marry a disease-ridden, money-loving cur than that man,” Ravenna bit through her teeth.
