My Fair Viscount by Jess Michaels

Author:Jess Michaels [Michaels, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-947770-15-7
Publisher: The Passionate Pen LLC
Published: 2019-07-09T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

David stared at the plate of breakfast delights that had been set before him and reached for exactly the right fork. After another week of daily teaching, he had to admit that Rose’s lessons were beginning to stick. He was less uncertain about the expectations of the ton and he could even hear his accent softening and his language becoming more refined. Or at least less coarse.

As if she knew he was thinking about her, Rose looked up from the paper she was reading at his right and met his gaze. Of course he was immediately drawn to her.

That was, in truth, a bit of a surprise. They’d shared a week on not just lessons in propriety, but in pleasure as well. He had taken this woman in every wicked way he could imagine, and she had surrendered herself willingly, enthusiastically. Yet he wasn’t tired of her. He didn’t feel the pull to escape her arms.

If anything, he never wanted their time together here to end.

But it would. And soon.

“My cousin will be here later this afternoon,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, not morose.

She smiled, as if this fact meant nothing to her when it wrecked him completely. “Yes,” she said.

“To view me and judge my progress,” he said, unable to stop himself from sounding as bitter as he felt.

She leaned forward and gently covered his hand with hers. Just that simple touch was electric and need for her pulsed. But there was something else, too. Comfort. She offered comfort, and for the first time in his life, he felt it beneath his skin, in his bones, part of his blood.

That was more dangerous than anything he’d ever encountered in a hell.

“You have done remarkably well, David,” she said.

He shrugged. “That speaks more of your teachings than of my abilities.”

She blushed. He loved making her blush. It was so easy and there were so many tones and shades of it. This blush of pleasure was lovely. So was her blush of shock when he said or did something that took her off guard. But his favorite was the blush of release, when she came beneath him and that fetching pink covered all her skin.

She ducked her head and said, “I admit, I am a little concerned that he will…he’ll see our…our connection.”

Connection. The word fit. He’d never meant to build that with her and yet he had. He trusted her advice, longed for her touch, regretted the moment that would soon come and part them. That was connection.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, trying to maintain a lightness. “I admit, it may be hard for me to hide that I want you.” He pushed from the table, drawing her to her feet. “But I have a solution.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “And what is that, my lord?”

She already knew. He heard it in her voice. Heard that ache that echoed his own. That longing that would not be extinguished.

He slid his hand along her jawline, tracing the soft skin there with rough fingertips.

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