LadyClarissasSeduction Read Free

lingering
kiss on her lips. “I want to toss up your skirts and satisfy this ache between
us.”
    Oh dear. He must not.
    “Mr. Foster.” She attempted to gather her addled wits. “I
fear this is most inappropriate.”
    “Pierce,” he growled low in his throat as he followed her
across the drawing room until her back pressed against the wall. He kissed her
with each step and she clung to him, eager for more, helpless to resist. Her
tongue dueled with his. He raised her hem. Cool air swirled over her ankles,
her knees, her upper thighs.
    His hand slid over the sensitive skin at the curve of her
knee. Dear God, this man was undoing her. She’d meant to defy him, beat him in
a battle of wits, and instead she was willingly becoming his victim. Falling
from grace and the plummet was divine. What was happening to her? Her body
warmed as if it had been cast into flames. She’d never known such maddening
heights of pleasure existed. Never dreamt she could feel so alive.
    He caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged. She
nipped back at him, thinking if she could consume him, in that moment, she
surely would have. She tore at his waistcoat, pulling the buttons from their
moorings. She wanted his skin. She wanted to see his chest. She wanted…
    A roguish smile kicked up the corner of his lips. He seemed
as breathless as she. “This is most unexpected, princess.”
    “Clarisha?”
    Pierce stiffened. “Damn it to hell.”
    Her father’s disembodied voice echoed through the empty
halls and reached her ears. The ramifications of her behavior came down hard
upon her shoulders. What had she done? What was she about, allowing this
commoner, this man who had ruined her father to touch her so intimately?
    She pushed him from her and tugged her bodice frantically
back into place. “It’s my father,” she said, sotto voce . “Oh dear
heavens. You must go at once!”
    Pierce Foster eyed her sullenly. His jaw tightened with what
she supposed to be anger. “What’s the matter? Ashamed you’ve debased yourself
with me, princess?”
    Clarissa smoothed her rumpled skirts and glared back at him.
“You are a practiced seducer of innocents, I’ve no doubt. Pray go and leave me
to my fate.”
    His lip curled. “What’s next? From the look of things, you
haven’t much left to sell other than a threadbare settee and a rather hideous
chair. How do you propose to repay the debts owed by your father?”
    Before she could muster a suitable response, her father
barged into the drawing room, looking positively bilious. His thinning white
hair stood up in a most unbecoming fashion and what had perhaps been his supper
the previous evening stained his cravat.
    “What are you shtill doing here, Foster?” he demanded,
stumbling against the chair Pierce had so recently disparaged.
    “Seeing you keep yourself out of trouble, Darlington,”
Pierce bit out, adjusting his waistcoat and facing her father. “I’ve come to
tell you that you’ve a reprieve.”
    “A reprieve?” Clarissa’s stunned voice could be heard
echoing her father’s.
    “Indeed. Take yourself to the country for a month and get
your affairs in order. You’re no use to anyone in this state.”
    Her father hiccupped. “Haven’t got a coach, have we, Clarisha?
Think I gave it over to Eddlesham, or was it Nidderdale?”
    “You may hire a hack, then,” Pierce informed him coldly,
removing a handful of notes from his waistcoat and offering them up. “This
should be sufficient.”
    “Right.” Papa accepted the money without hesitation. “Come
on with you, Clarisha. Foster is ready to take his leave.”
    “No.” Pierce spoke quietly but with enough force to give
Papa pause. “Your daughter will not be accompanying you.”
    Clarissa turned to him, startled. “Where shall I go, Mr. Foster?”
    His dark blue gaze settled on hers, simmering with unspoken
promise. “You are to come with me, Lady Clarissa. I am afraid in this game of
ours, you are to be forfeit or I