The Unmasking of Lady Loveless Read Free Page A

concealed all the delicious lines and curves of her body. Alex was surprised to discover that he was very anxious to reacquaint himself with those curves. And then there was her rich dark hair, scraped back into an unbecoming knot but that would spread out over his bare chest like a swatch of silk. The image of Melicent, naked in his arms, soft, sweet and yielding as he remembered, hardened his body into arousal. He turned to the manuscript again:
    “The soft sheen of the pearls glowed in the half light. He drew them over the swell of her breasts and down to pool about her navel….”
    He had brought pearls as a Christmas gift for Melicent. The image of her wearing them and nothing else fixed itself in his mind; the slide of the jewels against the translucent pallor of her skin, the quickness of her breathing as her sensual pleasure mounted, the desperate little sounds she would make in the extremes of her ecstasy…
    “She made a soft noise of surrender and spread herself for him, and he eased her thighs farther apart and slid—”
    There was a scraping at the drawing-room door and Alex jumped visibly, shoving the sheets into his pocket. He tried to rearrange himself so that his physical state would not be too obvious.
    Melicent stood in the doorway, dressed in an unfashionable evening gown. He found that he wanted to rip it off her and make love to her on the carpet. Clearly Lady Loveless’s provocative prose was creating havoc within him. He struggled for some control.
    Melicent looked at him, a slight frown on her brow. “It is very hot in here.”
    He knew.
    “You look rather flushed, my lord. Are you developing a fever?”
    He certainly was.
    “I am well,” Alex said. His voice sounded strangely husky. He cleared his throat.
    “Dinner is ready,” Melicent said, still looking concerned. “It is only mutton and vegetables. I am afraid that we do not keep a very elaborate table….”
    She carried on talking about the food, but Alex could not concentrate. He was watching her lips move, plush and pink. He wanted to taste her. He could not help himself. He crossed the room in two strides, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
    It was heated, intimate and exactly like the fantasy he had imagined from the first moment he had read her writing. She made a very sweet sound of capitulation in the back of her throat and melted against him, eager and willing, her lips parting beneath the pressure of his, inviting him in. Her scent surrounded him, apples and honey; it was on her skin and in her hair, and suddenly his mind went blank of everything except desire and he was kissing her deeply, plundering her mouth, as his tongue moved against hers in demand and possession.
    They broke apart as the dinner gong sounded. Melicent was panting, her hair ruffled, lips soft and damp, eyes wide and dark with desire. Alex felt another spear of lust go through him. He was not sure if he could wait until after dinner to have her. Never had the idea of forcing down a piece of overcooked mutton appeared so unappealing. But on the other hand, delay could be an aphrodisiac. Perhaps he could use the time to stoke their mutual desire. He rather liked that idea. For one thing was for sure, and that was that he would not be occupying the guest chamber that night.

Chapter 3
    Melicent tried fiercely to concentrate on her dinner, but her efforts were to no avail. Alex was sitting opposite her and she was aware of nothing but him. The table was small and every so often his thigh would brush hers beneath the cloth. Each time it happened her nerves would jump with tension and barely suppressed longing. She was conscious of his hands, strong and tanned, as he held his knife and fork, and of his voice, low and intent as he maintained a scrupulously polite conversation with her mother. Most of all she was aware of his dark gaze resting on her face. It made her heat up from the inside out, so at least she did not notice the coldness of the dining