Page 55 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
He cupped the side of her face, his thumb moving over her flesh, soothing her. “And what’s that?”
“Freedom. Independence. Security.”
“I want excitement. Adventure. But most of all, I want you.” He drew her head down and kissed her again. Where he’d taken her by surprise a moment ago, she was ready this time. Her mouth met his with equal fervor, her lips opening and her tongue darting forth to tangle with his.
This was exciting and adventurous—everything he wanted and more. He lay back, palming the back of her head. Clutching at her waist, he pulled her down on top of his chest. He splayed his hand over her lower back, pressing her into him. The coverlet was between them, providing an infuriating barrier. But beneath it, he wore only a shirt. He’d likely scandalize her. Or not. Lucy wasn’t the type to frighten easily.
Lucy.
How had he ever thought of her as Smitty? Hell, he’d forgotten to dispatch the wig. He reached up and pulled it from her head.
She broke the kiss. “Ow!”
He winced. “What? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“The wig was pinned to my hair.” She sat back and massaged the back of her head.
He released her. “My apologies.” He offered her the wig, but she shook her head.
She pulled a pin from her hair and dropped it on the table beside the bed. A second one joined it. Then another. With careful, exacting precision, she removed each pin and deposited them on the table. Lock after lock, the dark mass fell until it reached past her shoulders in a rich, sable curtain.
Andrew dropped the wig, heedless of where it landed. “You’re so beautiful. And don’t tell me that you’re not. Youare.”
Her eyes were wide, luminous, in the dim, seductive light of the chamber. “I never thought so…until I met you.”
He brought his hands to her face, stroking her cheeks, reveling in their silky smoothness. He drew his thumbs over her cheekbones and pushing his hands back into her hair. It was thick and soft, and he tangled his fingers among the waves.
He wanted more.
Moving down her body, he clasped her sides and lifted her over him, laying her in the middle of his bed. He came up on his side and loomed over her. Her cravat was undone, and he could see just a trace of her neck. He tugged the silk away and threw it aside. The neck of her shirt fell open, exposing more of her creamy flesh.
She stared up at him, her eyes full of wonder and desire. “My boots are probably dirty.”
He pulled his gaze from hers and looked down at her feet. “Then let’s dispose of them.” He made quick work of it, peeling her boots away and throwing them to the floor. He did the same with her stockings, eager to see her feet. They were pale and lovely. He ran his fingertip along the outside edge, from toe to heel.
She flinched, giggling. “That tickles.”
He looked back up at her face, his mouth forming a lazy smile as his headache began to fade from the tonic. “Does it?”
She was still wearing far too much, reminding him of Smitty. And damn it, he didn’t want Smitty in his bed.
He wanted Lucy.
He leaned on his elbow beside her and put his fingers on the uppermost button of her waistcoat. “May I?”
She nodded. Her chest rose and fell with deep, ever-quickening breaths.
He realized there was no padding here. “Where is the bulk of your costume?”
“We grew smarter with the day costume. My maid sewed it into the coat. Once I take it off, there’s just me.”
He moved to the next button, enjoying this leisurely removal of her costume but also eager to see her, as she said, as just her. “Ingenious,” he breathed. “But then I’d expect nothing less from you.” He moved more quickly, making his way through the waistcoat and then pushing the sides open to expose the shirt beneath.
She gasped, then brought her hand up to the back of his head. She pulled him down. “Kiss me, Dartford.”
“Andrew. You should really call me Andrew.” No one had called him that since he’d been small, and even then it had only been his brother and his sisters. His parents had called him by his courtesy title. Why Bertie and the girls had called him Andrew remained a mystery he’d never know the answer to.
Darkness threatened to engulf him, just as it had after the balloon incident. Until he’d found her face. He’d been horrified to see that she was among the gentlemen on the lawn, but after awakening, he’d been relieved and…happy. He did the same thing now that he’d done then to keep his sanity intact—he focused on her. He fed on her touch and lost himself in her kiss.
