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nibbled on his lips, her tongue moving hesitantly against him.
    He grabbed her tightly then, cupping her round bottom and pulling her flush up against his aching body. Surely he would scandalize her, for she couldn’t miss his rigid cock pressed against her soft belly. To his delighted surprise, her hands stole up to the back of his neck and she arched toward him. Unable to resist her invitation, he brought a hand to one breast and cupped her. She fit him perfectly.
    “Lord Chester.” She sighed into his mouth.
    “William,” he softly corrected.
    She flicked her tongue over his lower lip and smiled. “William.”
    His name on her lips, her voice breathy and low, made him throb. Turning, he settled her on the chaise set in the alcove and plundered her mouth. Her hands clutched at him as she placed teasing kisses on his throat. This wasn’t the shy girl she showed to society. That was certain. This was the sensual woman he’d sensed almost from the start.
    He couldn’t withstand the pressure much longer. Burying his face in her cleavage, he breathed deeply of her lily scent and dragged his tongue over her flesh. She shivered at the contact.
    He dipped a finger into her bodice, teasing a rigid nipple where it strained against her stays. She made a sound of need, raw and low. He withdrew his hand to steal beneath her skirts. Her gasp stilled him and he looked up to find her eyes staring into his.
    “William, what are you doing?” she asked.
    His hand moved up her thigh, just where her stocking ended and her silky skin began. He smiled down at her.
    “Forgetting myself, apparently,” he managed to say.
    He reluctantly withdrew his hand and smoothed her gown, grateful he hadn’t noticeably wrinkled it. Risking a glance at her face, he saw her color was high and her breath still coming fast. Unable to resist, he kissed her again.
    When he finally pulled away, she gazed up at him for a long moment. “I must go,” she said at last.
    Yes, she must. Yet her hands were still up around his neck. He leaned back and shifted, his body aching, and gently slipped from her grasp. She gazed down at her hands, seemingly at a loss over what to do with them. He had a few suggestions. The thought of her cool satin gloves wrapped around his aching shaft made him curse under his breath.
    “Go,” he said, urging her to her feet. “It won’t do for anyone to see us leaving together.”
    She stared at him, apparently uncomprehending.
    “You’re flushed, Constance. If anyone were to see how you affected me as well, there would be little question about what we did in here.”
    She stood and looked down at the chaise, then gave a shiver. “What we almost did, Lord Chester.”
    With that cool utterance, the intimacy of the moment was shattered. He inclined his head and she hurried from the alcove. Shifting, he tried to ease himself into a more comfortable position.
     
    *    *    *
     
    Constance all but ran to the ladies’ retiring room. Oh, what she had just done! Almost done, she quickly corrected herself. She brought a trembling hand to her lips, casting a gaze about to make sure no one paid her any undue attention. As usual, she managed to escape notice.
    Lady Constance Bridges, the late Earl of Bridgewater’s daughter, was just as she should be at the moment. A young lady slightly fatigued from a vigorous dance with a proper gentleman. Pity she was far from that. She was a woman on fire for a man who’d been anything but proper in that alcove.
    She closed her eyes, unable to keep from reliving every blessed moment she’d passed with Lord Chester—William!—in that closed space. He’d given her the lead, let her kiss him if she wanted to, and she’d taken it willingly. He tasted as good as she’d suspected, warm and smooth and slightly spicy, like his scent she’d caught since first making his acquaintance three years ago. She hadn’t known what she’d wanted then. How could she? She’d just come out, with little