Page 18 of The Duke's Pet

A smile tugged his lips. “That pleases me.”

“I am here to please you.” She remembered her instructions from Madam and Emily. “To do as you bid of me.”

“Yes, you are.” He switched breasts, treating the opposite nipple to the same delicate swipes of his thumb. The nipple hardened, the skin puckering, and a pleasant sensation trickled into the center of her chest.

She held in a tight sigh and studied the way the sun shone on his dark hair, gilding it in golden hue. She’d guess he was around thirty, no more than that. And spending so much time alone in his study, his painting room, had clearly given him some unique ideas of what he wanted from a woman.

“And now I must work.” He stepped away suddenly and gestured to an easel with a half painting of a long-stemmed flower on it.

“Yes, Sir.” She missed his closeness and his attention on her nipples. Which was odd, because a few minutes ago she’d wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

“And you, little kitten, can rest by the fire, recover from your long journey.” He gestured to the sofa. “I’m sure you are tired.”

The sofa looked soft and inviting, and the flickering flames would warm her skin. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He flicked his hand toward the sofa. “And no speaking. I do not wish to break my concentration until Mrs. Cook brings high tea.”

She nodded and stooped to pick up her dress.

“I’ll take that.” He took the material and laid it over the chair next to his desk. “Now go and rest after your journey.”

She sat on the warm sofa, glad that she still had her petticoat on. For a moment she thought he’d insist she removed that too. She felt exposed enough with her breasts bare, without having her ass and pussy naked too.

Her cheeks heated at the thought. To be in broad daylight and completely exposed to this stranger was more than she could cope with.

No. Be strong.

She tilted her chin and blinked rapidly, forcing a small amount of moisture threatening to reabsorb.

The duke had been kind so far, if a little strange. In her nightmare imaginings he’d been old and fat, rude and rough, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Thank goodness.

Chapter Five

Jemima curled up onthe sofa with her head on a cushion propped on the arm. She stared at the dancing flames and watched as the embers twinkled.

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