Page 107 of Doxy for the Ton
After securing the knot, she tucked the ends of the necktie into his shirt, then stood back to admire her handiwork.
“Thank you, Mimi,” he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.
“You’re welcome…Alexander.”
She reached toward his chest, unable to suppress the desire to feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers once more. Then he drew her to him and lowered his mouth to hers.
Desire flared within her, and she melted into his embrace, letting his lips slide over hers. His tongue probed, gently at first, then more insistent at the seam of her lips. When she parted them, he slipped inside, teasing, stroking. He tasted of spice, smoke, and raw, primal need—an intoxicating liquor that promised to satisfy every unmet need that she had denied herself…
Pleasure—and love.
With a whimper, she surrendered and responded to the kiss, inviting him to claim her. His body vibrated with a growl of raw, primal desire, and he pulled her against him, his body hard and ready. The heady scent of male potency and female desire filled her senses as he deepened the kiss, as if one taste of her could never be enough—as if he wanted to consume her,devourher…
What the devil am Idoing?
Mimi broke the kiss and drew back, shaking.
By letting him kiss her, she had taken herself to the edge of the abyss. And in responding, she had almost plunged over the precipice.
Her heart racing, Mimi lifted her gaze to his, anticipating his disappointment—anger, even.
But all she saw was resignation, as if he understood he’d breached her trust. Then he lifted his hand and, with a light fingertip, traced the outline of her face.
“Shall we go?” he whispered. “I’m eager to meet your friend—Mrs. Briggs, is it?”
She nodded and placed her hand over his, and he smiled. Then he reached for the overcoat and put it on.
“At least I’m capable of donning a coat, if little else.”
“You could achieve much more if you employed your mind appropriately, Alexander.”
“I’m in your hands, Mimi.”
They exited the parlor to find the footman waiting by the door.
“Take care, Lady Rex,” he said.
“You can leave your mistress’s care to me, Charles,” Alexander said, taking Mimi’s arm and linking it through his.
“Make sure that you do.”
Charles’s eyes widened, as if he regretted the words as soon as he’d uttered them. By right, Alexander’s rank could demand the footman’s dismissal at such impertinence, but instead he laughed.
“Your loyalty to your mistress does you credit, young man,” he said. “I’ll take your warning with the seriousness it commands, and assure you that there are none so committed as I when it comes to Lady Rex’s welfare.”
Charles nodded, then the two of them exited the building.
The journey to Mrs. Briggs’s establishment was uneventful. They picked up a hackney carriage almost as soon as they left Grosvenor Square, and the driver, other than a cursory look, paid them little attention. Perhaps he thought they were a footman and maid running an early morning errand. Or maybe an eloping couple, given how Alexander refused to let go of Mimi’s hand for the whole journey.
After they climbed out, the driver tipped his cap, then, with a crack of his whip, set off and disappeared. The first strains of dawn light were bleeding into the sky—cold, gray threading through the inky blackness. Voices echoed along the street, cursing and yelling, accompanied by the splash of water as residents emptied their chamber pots into the street. Carts rattled as coalmen made their deliveries.
London—or this insalubrious little part of it, at least—was waking up.
Before Mimi could knock on Mrs. Briggs’s door, it opened to reveal the woman herself.
“Mimi darlin’, I didn’t expect you so early.”
“It’s my usual time,” Mimi said.
