Her Wicked Marquess by Lisa Torquay

Author:Lisa Torquay
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-09-27T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Hester entered her tiny home in a state. She barely managed to say goodnight to Bruce before she closed the door and vented her distress.

What had she almost done back there, for pity’s sake? All Drake had to do was put his warm, big hands on her and she’d gone haywire, up in flames with the mere sound of his voice and the memory of that long-ago night. Let’s not even mention his expert hands roaming the silk bodice in a call for surrender only a saint could ignore. The heat of him, his giant frame glued to her, his scent of rosemary and man. He’d come an inch from seducing her. The need in her jumped sky-high, to the point her body was about to convince her to throw everything to the blazes and just find a darned relief.

She tore off her cloak, threw her gloves on the table, and reached to the hidden tiny buttons on her side. The skilled seamstress had ample knowledge that a mistress possessed no lady’s maid to help with dressing.

Drake hadn’t lied, she admitted as much. His mother started the gossip of his match. Lady Millicent asked for his help, heaven knew why. But this meant nothing.

It didn't discard the fact that he would be hard-pressed to settle down. Whoever he chose for the task, Hester wouldn't amount to more than a passing distraction in his life.

Stay the night.

Yes, yes, yes! Her hazy mind had screamed. Especially as he’d reminded her of the other soiree, and what they did after it. What they did the entire night after it.

But when he said it was simple, the sensible side of her, the one crushed by the demands of her clamouring flesh, rebelled, even if with a timid voice. It helped to steel herself against his calamitous seduction.

Free from the confining clothes that hadn’t been enough to press down her starved senses, she prepared a bath with the water she’d collected earlier for that purpose. And hoped to wash her near surrender with the cheap soap she could afford. But no. Her head wouldn’t stop repeating the last moments of the evening over and over.

Until she fell in bed, alone and feverish, but also exhausted after an entire evening fighting herself. She dived into a restless sleep that brought no reprieve from her inner battle.

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