What lesson is this?” she choked out.
His wild gaze met hers. “That even a low bastard can be tempted above his station when a lady is as lovely as you.”
“A lady? Not a tomboy?”
“I wish you were a tomboy, sweeting,” he said bitterly. “Then you wouldn’t have viscounts and earls and dukes vying for your favors.”
Was he jealous? Oh, how wonderful if he was! “And Bow Street Runners?” she prodded.
He shot her a dark glance that was apparently supposed to serve as her answer, for he then bent to close his mouth over one linen-draped breast.
Good. Heavens. What deliciousness what this? She shouldn’t allow it. But the man she’d been fascinated with for months was treating her as if he truly found her desirable, and she didn’t want it to stop.
Clutching his head to her, she exulted in the hungry way he sucked her breast through her chemise, turning her knees to water and her blood to stream.
He pleasured her breast with teeth and tongue as his hand found her other breast and teased the nipple to arousal. Her pulse leapt so high she feared she might faint. “Jackson…ohhh, Jackson…I thought you…despised me.”
“Does this feel like I despise you?” he murmured against her breast, then tongued it silkily for good measure.
A sensual tremor swept through her. “No.” But then, she’d been a fool before with men. She wasn’t good at understanding them when it came to this. “If you desired me all along, why didn’t you…say anything before?”
“Like what? ‘My lady, I keep imagining you naked in my bed?’” He slid one hand down to her hip. “I’m not fool enough to risk being shot for impertinence.”
Should she be thrilled or disappointed to hear that he imagined her in his bed? It was more than she’d expected, yet not enough.
She dug her fingers into his shoulder. “How do you know I won’t try shooting you now?”
He nuzzled her breast. “You left your pistol on the breakfast table.”
A strange excitement coursed through her. It made no sense, considering what had happened the last time a man had got her alone and helpless. “Perhaps I have another hidden in this room.”
He lifted his head to gaze steadily into her eyes. “Then I’d best keep you too busy to use it.”
Suddenly he was kissing her again, hard, hungry kisses…each more intoxicating than the last. He filled his hands with her breasts and fondled them shamelessly, distracting her from anything but the taste and feel of him.
A moan escaped her, and he tore his mouth from hers. “You shouldn’t let me touch you this way.”
“Yet I am,” she gasped against his cheek. “And you aren’t stopping, either.”
“Say the word, and I will.” Yet he dragged her skirts up and pressed forward between her legs. “This is mad. We’re both mad.”
“Are we?” she asked, hardly conscious anymore of what she was aying.
Because it felt utterly right to be in his arms, as if she’d waited ages to be there. Her heart had never clamored so for anyone else.
“I don’t generally take advantage of my clients’ sisters,” he rasped as his hands slid to grip her thighs. “It’s unwise.”
“I’m your client, too. Do I look as if I’m complaining?” she whispered and drew his head down to hers.

Autore: Sabrina Jeffries