Regency Scandal. Кэрол Мортимер

was, at one and the same time, the most caring, and yet erotically charged, moment of her life, that gentle suckling of her flesh causing the tips of her breasts to tingle, as if the softness of Rupert’s lips were touching her there rather than her finger. The heat increased inside her core, dampening the delicacy of her folds and making her press her trembling thighs together in a vain attempt to suppress it.

      ‘Oh, my goodness!’ There was a shocked gasp from across the bedchamber as Henley entered the room without warning. ‘I had no idea! I would not have— I believed his Grace to have already left …’ She trailed off awkwardly.

      Rupert ignored the flustered lady’s maid as he moved so that his body shielded Pandora from the other woman’s curiosity. His fingers tightened as she would have instantly snatched her hand away, his silver gaze brooding as he continued to look down into her now-stricken one as he slowly sucked upon her injured finger once more, twice, before releasing that digit from his mouth with a soft popping noise, the whole length of that tiny finger now moist from his ministrations. ‘I don’t think there’s any glass still embedded in your finger,’ he rasped.

      Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts softly rising and falling in her agitation. ‘Release me,’ she hissed softly when her attempts to pull her hand from within the strength of his proved fruitless.

      Rupert’s lips curved into a mocking smile even as he placed those same lips one last time upon her injured finger before releasing her. ‘My nanny was a great believer in kissing a hurt better as a healing method.’

      Kissing a hurt better?

      Pandora now ached in parts of her body she had not known could ache! But not in an unpleasant way. No, what she now felt, in her breasts and between her thighs, was all too pleasurable …

       Chapter Seven

      Pandora swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat before answering him waspishly. ‘In that case, I believe I must be completely cured, your Grace!’ She shot him a censorious glare before turning to look across the bedchamber at her maid. ‘What is it, Henley?’

      That poor lady looked completely undone by this added stress upon her already frayed nerves. ‘I came to help—that is, I thought to—Perhaps I should come back later …?’ Henley shot Rupert a nervous glance.

      ‘I—’

      ‘Do that,’ the Duke cut in haughtily.

      Pandora scowled at him before answering her maid. ‘That won’t be necessary, Henley. His Grace was just leaving,’ she added pointedly.

      Rupert raised lazily arrogant brows. ‘I don’t believe our present … conversation is over just yet, Pandora.’

      A blush heated her cheeks, whether with embarrassment or anger she was unsure. ‘Oh, I think we’ve said all that needs to be said on the subject for one evening, your Grace.’

      ‘Indeed?’ he drawled.

      ‘Indeed.’ Her mouth firmed. ‘Henley, perhaps you would care to show his Grace out?’

      ‘I—’

      ‘I shall see myself out, thank you, Pandora.’ The ice now literally dripped from his voice.

      Then do so—now! Pandora wished to say. She knew it was ungrateful of her to feel that way. Rupert had been kindness itself to her since they had entered the house and found the whole of her household in uproar. Well … perhaps he had not been merely kind to her for all of that time—as the tingling of her breasts and thighs still testified!

      ‘When—and if,’ the Duke continued inexorably, ‘I deem it necessary.’

      When and if he deemed it necessary that he leave? He was unbelievably arrogant!

      As far as she was concerned it would have been better by far if he had left some time ago! ‘Leave us, would you, Henley?’ She made the request gently, even as her flashing gaze was fixed immovably upon the arrogant idiot in front of her.

      ‘Yes, your Grace.’ Henley bobbed a curtsy. ‘Of course, your Grace. Would you like me to—’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, just go, will you?’ Rupert instructed. ‘How on earth do you stand that woman’s presence about you every day?’ he demanded the moment Henley had closed the door of the bedchamber behind her. ‘I’m sure I should be driven to madness by her nervous twitchings and hesitations!’

      ‘Then it’s as well you don’t have to suffer them any further,’ Pandora returned tersely. ‘And how dare you give her the impression that you and I … Imply that you and I— I believe you should leave now!’ She eyed him in utter frustration.

      ‘So I ascertained some minutes ago.’ He nodded unconcernedly.

      ‘Well?’ Pandora prompted some tense seconds later as he still gave no indication of leaving.

      He raised those arrogant brows as he looked down at her with cool grey eyes. ‘There was something of import I had intended to discuss with you this evening.’

      Pandora stiffened warily. ‘Oh?’

      Rupert smiled ruefully as he saw that wariness. ‘Obviously, the situation we found upon our return here has deemed that now is not the right time for us to have that discussion.’

      ‘Obviously.’

      His smile widened at the dryness of her tone. ‘In which case I will return here tomorrow and we shall have our conversation then.’

      Pandora tapped a foot in exasperation. ‘You know, Rupert, you might find my mood to be far more accommodating if you were to ask rather than use such arrogant phrases as “I had intended” and “I will”!’

      ‘Touché.’ Rupert smiled as she turned his earlier comment back upon him. Proving her sharp intelligence once again, but also that she was not in the least the ordinary type of woman of his acquaintance, who gushed and fawned over the Duke of Stratton.

      Just as the physical evidence of Pandora’s response to him a few minutes ago—a flush to her cheeks, the swelling of her breasts, the unevenness of her breathing—proved that neither was she immune to the physical intimacy fast developing between the two of them …

      But would Pandora’s physical awareness of him make what Rupert wished to say to her more, or less, acceptable?

      Their conversation tomorrow would, he hoped, provide him with an answer to that question.

      ‘Do sit down, Pandora, and tell me all that has happened to you since we last met,’ Genevieve Forster encouraged avidly the moment the two of them were left alone in that lady’s private parlour the following afternoon. ‘And don’t attempt to claim that nothing has happened, because several of my visitors this morning could talk of nothing else but your visit to the theatre yesterday evening in the company of Devil Stirling!’ The reproving frown she gave Pandora was obviously on account of her not having informed Genevieve of it herself.

      Devil Stirling …

      Pandora had come to realise how well that name suited Rupert! He might have the golden looks of a fallen angel, but he was indeed a devil and one who enjoyed nothing more than tormenting her.

      Or tempting her …?

      Pandora was suffused with heat every time she so much as thought about those few moments of intimacy between them in her bedchamber the evening before. Although why she should feel so hot and bothered, just having Rupert Stirling kiss her finger, was beyond her comprehension. Which was one of the reasons she had called upon her friend today, in the hope that Genevieve, hopefully more understanding of such things, would be able to explain this strangeness of feelings to her.

      She sat forwards in the chair to take the cup of tea Genevieve had just poured for her. ‘The Earl and Countess of Heyborough