The Minx Who Met Her Match by Christi Caldwell

Author:Christi Caldwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Regency
Publisher: Christi Caldwell
Published: 2019-09-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

After a quiet carriage ride from London’s fashionable end to the modest streets where he and Charlie resided, Duncan hurried down from the hackney with a slumbering Charlie in his arms. He reached up to help a wrinkled and slightly damp Josephine Webb.

Now, she followed alongside them.

“Hello, sir.” Mrs. Joy greeted them at the back door as though it was the most common occurrence in the world for Duncan to arrive with a damp stranger in tow.

“The dear had a good day, I’d say,” Mrs. Joy exclaimed as he carried the little girl through the kitchens and up the narrow set of stairs to Charlie’s rooms. “I’ll have her dry and warm and resting in no time,” she promised, shooing him from the room.

Duncan fetched several clean towels and then made his way down once more to the kitchens.

At some point, Josephine had removed her cloak. The article was now upon the hook beside his, and he lingered a moment there. How right it somehow seemed in that spot, alongside his.

He entered, and from where she stood at the brick hearth, warming her palms, Josephine turned, a smile on her face.

Never had he been more aware of the change in his circumstances and the humble state of his household. “Here,” he murmured. Joining her, Duncan folded one of the towels about her shoulders.

Josephine accepted the other towel with a murmured, “Thanks,” and proceeded to pat the damp ends of her damp auburn tresses. His fingers twitched with envy over that task.

“Josephine,” he began.

Grabbing him by his wet shirtfront, Josephine leaned up and kissed him.

Passion exploded and laid claim to honor and reason and all common sense. Catching her in his arms, Duncan drew her close, and she went where he led. As he swept his tongue inside her mouth, she met every lash of his tongue.

Her hips undulated and arched in time to the thrusting of that flesh. Her luxuriant movements drove him back, and Duncan tumbled into a kitchen chair, taking her with him. All the while, they never broke contact with their lips.

Drenched from the rain, their garments plastered to them, there was something raw and primal in their state, and it sent lust pumping through him. He squeezed his eyes shut as honor reared its unwanted but familiar head. “Josephine, we should—”

“Don’t you dare speak to me about what we should or should not do,” she rasped between kisses. “I’m a woman, Duncan, capable of knowing my own mind and what I want.” Josephine lifted passion-heavy eyes to his. “And I want you.”

He closed his eyes. “I am lost,” he said gutturally.

Josephine caught his face between her hands. “You are not lost, Duncan.” She touched her brow to his. “We are found.”

Yes, he’d been found. He’d been found the day she’d thrown a purse through his window, shattering the glass and his world.

Duncan filled his hands with her buttocks.

She keened and moved against him. “Your servants?” she rasped against his mouth.

“There is only Mrs. Joy today.” Shoving her heavy skirts up, Duncan drew her close so that she straddled his legs.

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