The Curious Case of Lady Latimer's Shoes by Stephanie Laurens

The Curious Case of Lady Latimer's Shoes by Stephanie Laurens

Author:Stephanie Laurens
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Savdek Management Pty Ltd
Published: 2014-06-09T05:00:00+00:00


* * *

Late that night, Hartley Galbraith climbed through an open window into the conservatory at the rear of Latimer House. The house slumbered; there were no lights burning anywhere, not even in the conservatory.

Especially not in the conservatory.

He and Cynthia didn’t need light; they could find each other through any darkness, or so it seemed.

She appeared, an angelic phantom gliding out of the shadows to greet him. With a soft smile, she walked into his arms, her arms rising to wind about his neck as she stretched up, and he bent his head, and their lips met.

The kiss…embodied the promise that had kept him going through the days and nights since his mother had been killed. The comfort, the support—all Cynthia so unrestrainedly offered.

He deepened the kiss, wanting more, wanting to touch, to taste, to sample the scintillating passion that, wonder of wonders, had so steadily grown between them. She murmured through the kiss and pressed closer; in wordless communion, she urged him on. Joined with him in waltzing this waltz of the senses that neither had ever shared with anyone else.

And for moments, those moments, they stepped away from the here and now, from the horror and sorrow and tensions of their lives, and they danced.

For each other, with each other.

Their lips fused, and their tongues tangled, stroked, and caressed in a duel of delight. Her fingers speared through his hair and gripped his skull as he drew her flush against him, molding her lithe body to his, easing his hardness with her supple curves, the fullness of her breasts cushioning the contours of his chest, the soft tautness of her belly cradling his erection.

They both wanted so much more.

Both knew they couldn’t have it, not yet.

Not while the here and now hovered so close, and so strongly, so insistently, tugged at their hearts.

Now was not the time.

Dragging in a breath, he steeled himself and drew back from the kiss. She matched his resolve, and his reluctance, as she lowered her heels to the floor and looked into his face.

Studied it in the weak light.

He had no idea what she could see, but he grimaced. “I really don’t like this.” His arms still wrapped around her—unwilling to lose her warmth—he glanced about them. “Meeting here like this.” Returning his gaze to her face, he went on, “It’s bad enough that we have to meet clandestinely, but meeting here is even worse. I feel as if I’m trespassing in some unforgivable way on your parents’ goodwill.”

They hadn’t previously used the conservatory for their assignations, but after their last meeting in the church porch, Hartley had swallowed his dislike of trysting in her parents’ house; better she remain safe indoors than have her court the risks of the streets at night, even with her maid and the undergardener, who was little more than a boy.

Cynthia arched a brow. “You’re here at my invitation, but if we’re to speak of not liking things…I have to tell you that we—Mama especially, but me and my sisters, too—have started encountering more definite whispers and suspicious looks.



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