The Second Seduction

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The Second Seduction Page 27

by Shelley Munro


  will you sleep?”

  Lucien’s gaze intensifi ed. Her skin prickled, not in fear,

  but a diff erent, foreign sensation. His gaze dropped to her

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  lips. Th

  e silence grew heavy. Pregnant. Her tongue darted out

  to moisten her lips.

  Lucien cursed, long and loud, even as he eyed her lips

  avidly. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” Rosalind backed up. Th

  is time, he stepped

  closer and raised one hand to trace her lips with his fi ngers.

  “Th

  at,” he whispered. “Oh, Rosalind. What am I going

  to do with you? I’m trying to do the right thing, but you

  make it diffi

  cult.”

  “I am your wife.”

  “I know. But I didn’t want to care for you.”

  Rosalind chewed on her bottom lip while she considered

  his words. He’d loved his fi rst wife. Was there room in his

  heart for her too?

  His thumb brushed across her bottom lip. Th

  en he bent

  his head. Rosalind swallowed, her heart jolting in erratic

  beats. He lifted his other hand to cup her head, his dark eyes

  intent. Serious.

  He’d kissed her before. She knew what to expect, yet this

  time seemed diff erent and full of unexpected tension.

  “Are you sure you want to sleep in here tonight, Rosalind?”

  His voice was low. Husky. Dark eyes glinted in the softly can-

  dlelit room, holding silent questions he hadn’t voiced.

  Rosalind was certain. She nodded, turning slightly to

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  nuzzle his hand and press a soft, moist kiss to his palm. “I’m

  very sure.”

  He lowered his head and drew her against his chest.

  Apprehension swept through Rosalind when her body

  touched his. Now that Lucien was fi nally acquiescing, she had

  no idea what to do. Apprehension stalked her mind. What if

  she did something wrong? What if she compared unfavorably

  with his fi rst wife . . . with Francesca? Th

  e thought made her

  tense, horror fl ooding her thoughts. What if she did some-

  thing so wrong he never let her enter his chamber again?

  “Having second thoughts?” he murmured. He was so

  close now his warm breath wafted across her cheek. Port

  and the faint tang of tobacco, plus a scent that was uniquely

  Lucien made her sigh and relax.

  “I’m not sure what to do next. I sort of know what hap-

  pens, but what if I do the wrong thing?” she asked.

  Lucien chuckled and the sound made her lips curl up at

  the corners. “I know exactly what to do,” he said.

  An intriguing dimple winked at the corner of his mouth

  to entrance Rosalind. She lifted her hand to run her fi ngers

  over the small dent. Instantly, images fl ooded her mind. She

  gasped. Her gaze fl ew to Lucien’s. “I have no clothes on!”

  Th

  e dimple reappeared. “I know.”

  Her brow creased in a frown. “You have clothes on.”

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  Lucien grinned, and when Rosalind was about to speak,

  he placed a hand over her mouth. “Shh,” he murmured. “You

  talk too much.”

  Th

  e candles fl ickered. Lucien lowered his hand, pressed

  a fl eeting kiss over her mouth. “Can you read my mind all

  the time?”

  “My grandmother taught me to block. I can block most

  thoughts as long as I’m calm. Sometimes they slip in, but I

  have to be touching the person.”

  “I’d say we’re going to be touching,” he murmured, an

  undertone of laughter in his voice. “I’d better watch what

  I’m thinking.”

  Th

  is teasing, laughing Lucien was a stranger to Rosa-

  lind. Relaxed and approachable, he made her crave more of

  the same in the future. His gaze remained fi xed on her face,

  making her self-conscious. She sighed, knowing she’d do as

  he said, and trust.

  Lucien placed his hands on her shoulders and took half

  a step back. Slowly, his gaze trailed downward to linger on

  her lips. Heat bloomed on her skin. Rosalind sucked in a

  breath as his gaze moved lower. It was as if he caressed her.

  She wanted to fi dget, but a strange lethargy held her in place.

  Suddenly, her clothes were heavy, cumbersome. And Lucien

  seemed to know.

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  “Let me play maid tonight,” he murmured. He pushed

  her down onto a walnut chair. In the dressing table looking

  glass, she saw their twin refl ections. Lucien appeared dark

  and somber in his usual black attire, while her blond hair

  glinted in the candlelight.

  Lucien’s fi ngers deftly removed the two ivory combs that

  fastened her hair. His fi ngers worked through her long blond

  locks until they spilled about her shoulders.

  “I’ve thought about seeing you like this,” he confessed.

  His hand smoothed across her hair. A relaxed sigh drifted

  from Rosalind as his fi ngers combed and gently massaged her

  scalp. She eyed his refl ection in the looking glass. His hair

  was tied back, highlighting his intent face. She liked it best

  when he allowed his hair to hang loosely about his face, the

  curls springing to life.

  “Stand for me, Rosalind.”

  She rose on unsteady legs. His deft fi ngers dealt with her

  gown and petticoat. Laces unfastened and tapes were untied

  as if by magic. Th

  e silken fabric dropped to the fl oor with

  a soft whoosh. Rosalind chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety

  rising once more. Lucien tugged her back against his chest,

  his mouth nuzzling behind her ear. Velvet fabric tickled

  her back. Hot, moist breath fanned her neck and the sensa-

  tion did little to aid her wobbly legs. Th

  e heat in the room

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  intensifi ed, despite her lack of clothing. Muscles constricted

  with alarm, but the feeling of his lips on her heated skin was

  not unpleasant. A shiver moved down her body.

  “Don’t be frightened,” he murmured.

  “I’m not,” she said, and knew it for a lie. It was hard to be

  brave when the future looked so hazy.

  His hand toyed with her chemise strap. He turned her

  to face him, cupping her head until she looked up to meet

  his gaze. His eyes were wild and stormy. Hot. Her pulse

  skittered, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips.

  Lucien gave a soft laugh as if he found her nerves amusing.

  Rosalind stiff ened.

  “Relax. I’m not laughing at you.” He smiled and brushed

  one fi nger over her quivering mouth. “Your face is easy to

  read. Your emotions give you away.”

  Lucien bent his head, closing the gap between them. Th

  e

  touch of his lips was diff erent from what she expected. His

  kiss was soft and fl eeting, tentative, as if he was trying not to

  scare her. His lips moved over hers, then she felt a fl ick of his

 
tongue across her mouth. Startled, she opened her mouth and

  his tongue swept inside.

  Smell. Taste. Her senses bombarded her as she experi-

  enced being close to Lucien. Curiosity burned inside her and

  greedily, she wanted to try everything. Her hands fl uttered

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  before settling on his shoulders. His black jacket was rough

  to the touch while his velvet waistcoat felt soft and luxurious.

  Her hands slipped under the waistcoat to discover the white

  linen shirt beneath.

  “Would you like me to take my waistcoat and shirt off ?”

  Rosalind considered the idea. “Yes, please,” she whis-

  pered. Heat suff used her face, but Lucien didn’t seem to

  mind. Her brow creased momentarily. Th

  is was nothing like

  the scenario her aunt had described. Dark. Together in bed.

  Pain for a short time. Th

  en, blessedly alone.

  Candles sputtered in the wall sconces. Rosalind shifted

  to allow the light to shine on her husband.

  Her mouth rounded as Lucien’s shirt dropped down his

  arms and whispered to a puddle at his feet. Her gaze rose to

  meet his. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Don’t let that get around,” he said dryly. “I’ve worked

  very hard to scare all the women away with my ugly scars.”

  Her hand hovered over the bare skin of his chest. “Can

  I touch you?”

  His laugh was short, his voice husky and low. “Please.”

  Dark hair grew on his chest. It was soft under her fi ngers.

  She edged closer, near enough to press her nose against his

  chest. His scent fi lled every breath. Something mystical. Ori-

  ental. Th

  at was it. Th

  e scent reminded Rosalind of the small

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  sandalwood boxes that hailed from the Orient.

  His hands tugged her against his chest. Instead of the

  scratchy cloth of his jacket, his skin was smooth. Warmer.

  Hot to the touch. Her mouth opened and without thought,

  she kissed him in the middle of his chest. He groaned and

  tightened his hold.

  Th

  en, he laughed. “You, madam, are going to be the

  death of me with your questions and your curiosity. Come,

  let us lie on the bed before my knees give out.”

  “Oh, do your knees feel wobbly too? I thought perhaps

  I’d drunk too much wine,” Rosalind said.

  Lucien made a small choking noise.

  “Are you all right? Should I hit you on the back?”

  Lucien laughed hard, then. He wiped a splash of moisture

  from his eyes. “When I fi rst saw you, I knew you’d be trouble.”

  “I know my gift is a curse, but I do try not to be a

  nuisance.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.” He snatched her off her

  feet and took three hurried steps toward the bed. Rosalind

  dropped to the mattress and bounced lightly. Th

  e mattress

  dipped as Lucien sat on the edge of the bed. He slid off her

  pink satin shoes and dropped them to the fl oor. Th

  e sensa-

  tion of his hands on her legs made her freeze. His hands slid

  up her legs until he came to her garters. Deft movements

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  untied them in a trice. Th

  en he peeled down her stockings,

  his calloused hands smoothing them to her ankles, sending

  a shiver through her body. Her pulse raced, her body awash

  in sensations she’d never experienced before. And, there was

  much more to come. Pain. Would she bear it? Sighing, she

  decided, yes. To have a child of her own to love she would

  bear any amount of pain.

  Lucien removed his shoes and stockings while Rosalind

  watched with avid curiosity. His hands settled on the fasten-

  ing of his breeches. Hesitation skirted his face.

  “Is it necessary to take off your breeches?” Rosalind asked.

  A small choking noise escaped from the depths of his

  throat. His mouth twitched as she watched.

  “Maybe not,” he murmured. Th

  en, grinning, he moved

  up the bed, his upper body covering her chest.

  Not an unpleasant experience. Th

  e friction of her breasts

  against the sheer cotton of her chemise made her wriggle.

  Heat engulfed her face, her body, and low down in that

  place between her legs an ache intensifi ed. She squirmed a

  little more.

  “Be still,” Lucien ordered.

  Rosalind froze, not at his order, but at the strange guttural

  groan he emitted. Her eyes widened. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Again his voice sounded strange. “Hell.”

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  He lowered his head and kissed her. Warmth surged

  from his lips. Flickers of sensation exploded, sending tendrils

  of heat from wherever he touched. His hand on her shoulder,

  his weight on her upper body — both felt strange, but right.

  His mouth traced a path across her cheek, down her neck,

  and then, strangely, her ear.

  Rosalind melted like a snowdrift under the rising sun.

  Who would have thought a kiss on her ear would feel so . . .

  so wondrous. One sensation merged into another. His hands,

  rough from working with the men in the village, elicited

  magical sparks that prickled down her limbs.

  “Let me take your chemise off , Rosalind. I want to see you.”

  “See me?” One surprise heaped on top of another.

  Her aunt hadn’t mentioned taking off clothes. Neither had

  Mary. She studied his bare chest and frowned. “Can’t you

  see me now?”

  Lucien trailed his hand across her shoulder. “I would like

  to see your skin, your breasts. I want to touch you. To feel

  your skin.” His hand moved a little lower, the lazy movement

  of his hand touching one breast.

  Rosalind took a deep breath. “I will take my chemise off

  if you remove your breeches.”

  His grin was wide and instant. He levered away from

  her, his hands moving to unfasten his breeches. Lucien’s gaze

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  held a silent dare, along with heat and a strange yearning that

  made Rosalind desperate to please him. Her hand hovered at

  the hem of her chemise, then she whipped the white cotton

  garment over her head.

  Th

  ey stared at each other for long seconds. Rosalind

  reached a trembling hand out to touch. “You’re brown all

  over,” she said.

  “I go swimming in the sea.”

  Rosalind’s gaze fl ew to his. “With no clothes?”

  “Th

  e water feels like silk against your skin.”

  “I would like to do that.” Her tone held wistfulness.

  “Can I go with you next time?”

  “I’d like that,” Lucien murmured, an undercurrent of

  laughter shading his voice. “Come here,” he said. He set Ro-

  salind on the bed and leaned over her, pressing his lips to her

  shoulder. A shudder sped down her body. He kissed her lips.

  His tongue swirled across her lips and this time she k
new to

  open her mouth a little. Th

  e kisses were sweet and addictive,

  rich and heady, tasting of port and summer sunshine.

  While he kissed her, his hands were at her shoulders, but

  then they moved.

  She gasped in a breath, her heart thumping like the waves

  pounding at the base of the cliff below the castle. “What are

  you doing?” Her aunt had said that marriage bed activities

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  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  were quick, that her husband would leave her bed after ten

  minutes at the most. Her brow crinkled. Th

  ey’d been here for

  some time. All Hastings did was kiss her.

  “I want to learn your body, so I know it as well as mine.”

  His hand at her shoulder skimmed down her arm.

  “Oh.”

  “Is that all right?”

  Rosalind chewed her bottom lip and considered his

  words. “I think so.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” He paused to fl ash white teeth

  at her in a wide grin. “You don’t have to lie so quiet and still.

  You’re allowed to touch me too.”

  Th

  e idea appealed. A lot. She set out to quench her

  curiosity, to search out the similarities and the diff erences

  between them.

  Lucien couldn’t help the grin. It was the way Rosalind

  threw herself into every situation — with a little trepidation

  but lots of heart and determination. His mouth quivered.

  Let’s see how she handles this.

  He rolled, tugging Rosalind on top of him. She squeaked

  with alarm, her mouth rounding, her brows shooting upward.

  “So you can explore better,” he said. Her hands clutched at

  his upper arms, nails biting into his skin. Instead of pain,

  arrows of sheer need collected at his groin. He closed his eyes,

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  gritting his teeth. Slow. He needed to give Rosalind time, but

  the urge to roll her over and thrust into her tight warmth was

  almost overwhelming.

  Shy, hesitant hands crept across his chest. He could hear

  her breathing, the tick of a clock, the occasional splatter of

  wax from a candle.

  He opened his eyes and the concentration on her pale

  face made his heart race even faster. “Kiss me.”

  Slowly, she leaned toward him, but instead of kissing him

  on the lips, she kissed his chest, his neck. Shy and hesitant at

  fi rst, then with more assurance when she realized he wasn’t

  going to protest. Her mouth grazed a fl at masculine nipple

  and his breath escaped with a hiss. She froze.

 

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