Her Gift - Bundle Pack Read Free Page B

that she got the shock of a
lifetime. “Your Grace,” Charlotte sputtered. She dropped into a
quick curtsy.
    “Call me Mary, dear. We’ll be great
friends, I’m certain.” Her eyes sparkled and shone. And Charlotte’s
heart flipped over in her chest.
    Trent chuckled lightly from behind
her. “Great friends, indeed.”

Her Gift – The
Houseparty
    By Laurel
Bennett

    Charlotte Stansbury fretted over the
folds of her gown, flattening and pressing it with the palm of her
hand, over and over. If she stopped, she would most certainly have
to speak to him. Him – that enigma of a man who sat so calmly
beside her in the carriage, the Duke of Randallshire. The gentleman
-- and she wondered if he could even claim to be a gentleman,
despite his title – sat motionless beside her.
    “I sincerely hope you enjoyed your
afternoon,” he said casually.
    As though she’d spent the afternoon
knitting or enjoying a social circle. He knew perfectly well what
she’d been doing, since he planned the assignation. Heat flooded
Charlotte’s face. She’d planned for an afternoon tryst with a man
known for his prowess in the bedchamber. And she hadn’t gotten that
at all. She’d gotten something else. Something wholly
unexpected.
    “You don’t know how to thank me, do
you?” he asked softly, reaching one gentle hand forward and
touching her cheek lightly. “Or are you too embarrassed to make the
attempt?”
    Embarrassed. That was an odd choice of
words. Oddly appropriate. “I don’t know how to respond,” Charlotte
admitted.
    He turned so that her body faced his
in the carriage. “A simple thank you will suffice.”
    His knees brushed her skirt, and she
didn’t jump in fear of him. She didn’t fear him at all. How odd.
“Trent,” she began.
    “I like hearing my name on your lips,”
he said, his head dipping dangerously closer to hers. Her heart
began a mad thump within her chest. His soft, damp breath brushed
her cheek.
    “Do you plan to kiss me?” she
whispered back, leaning toward him as though there was an invisible
draw between them.
    He was gone within an instant. She
immediately felt the loss of him. But then the tip of his index
finger started a slow slide across the exposed skin of her bodice.
“Tell me how it felt to kiss Mary,” he prompted. A ghost of a grin
played around his lips. “Stop worrying about how society would view
your afternoon. Worry about how I view it, instead.” He took her
hand and pressed it against his cock, which formed a taut tent
beneath his trousers.
    Charlotte didn’t pull her hand back.
He didn’t pressure her to touch him. He just let her hand linger
there. She tested the length of him with her fingertips, and a
sharp hiss left his lips.
    “All I can think about is what you did
with Mary,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m dying to know
more.”
    “Why did you do it?” Charlotte asked.
He’d arranged for her to have an afternoon with a lady, a
seductress, a beautiful vision of a woman with a giving nature and
a wicked tongue. “Mary says you find out what a lady needs and then
you provide it.”
    He looked slightly chagrined. “Mary
talks too much.”
    “I don’t understand it. My appointment
was with you. Not with Mary.” She took a deep breath and then
continued, though the very thought of the conversation hurt her
heart beyond measure. “Do you not find me attractive? If you didn’t
want to be with me, you could have just said so.”
    “Does it feel as though I don’t find
you attractive?” he drawled as he took her hand and forced her grip
around his cock. He groaned aloud when she tested the girth of him,
and laid his head back on the squabs, regarding her from beneath
lowered lashes.
    “Then why?” she asked
again.
    They’d flirted for weeks. She’d still
been in her widow’s weeds, continuing her mourning for an
appropriate amount of time, but the moment she’d replaced the grey
with a dress of color, he’d asked her to dance at a formal ball.