Wickedly Wanton: A Ménage Regency Tale Read Free Page B

other.”
    Purposely sitting in a single chair, no longer relaxed, Sabine offered a modest smile.
    “Did you enjoy yourself at the picnic this afternoon?” he asked.
    Working hard not to blush, she nodded. Memories flooded back about the afternoon, and with them the flood of desire she felt at both Faith's tender touches and Aiden's demanding kiss. Forcing her body to remain still, no matter how she wished to squirm at the heat of those recollections, Sabine tried to smile but knew it was a mere imitation of one.
    Mortified, she managed an even, “Yes, it was a wonderful afternoon.”
    “I noticed you and your friend. Faith, is it?” She nodded and he continued, “Slip away for a bit. Unfortunately, I couldn't follow,” he added with a grin that could only be described as regretful, “as I had business to attend to with Lord Barrett.”
    He leaned forward and said in a lower voice, “I would have liked to follow. I understand young ladies like to dip their… toes in the cool stream.”
    “Sometimes,” she said, voice steady, “on very hot days.”
    Standing, unable to look at him with her memories of this afternoon's adventure so vivid in her mind, she walked to the window. The drapes had yet to be drawn; her father liked looking outdoors and hated any window to be covered if he was in the room.
    “I imagine,” Reddick's voice said from entirely too close behind her, “that on very hot days you'd enjoy wading into the cool water.”
    Jerking her head to look at him, Sabine tried to back away. Impossible, she stood trapped between the window and Reddick, who watched her with a hungry look in his pale blue eyes.
    “That would not be appropriate,” she said, forcing another smile as a mixture of strange sensations coursed through her. “Anyone could see.”
    “When we are married”—his hand caressed her cheek, stroking along her neck, and she repressed a shiver—”I can arrange for enough privacy to allow for it. I'd very much like to see”—he leaned closer—”the water glistening along your supple flesh.”
    His breathe tickled her ear and Sabine's heart pounded, part in arousal, part in embarrassment. She wasn't used to this kind of talk and twice in one day. Still, she wished it was Lord Severn, not Mr. Reddick, who spoke to her like this.
    At the thought of Severn's voice whispering those words, her stomach clenched in desire, breath speeding, blood racing. Naked in the stream with Aiden beside her, teaching her all the erotic arts as he had promised. It was too tempting.
    How could anyone resist the handsome marquess? His dark brown eyes that could look straight through her and discern every sexual wish, the smile that hinted at every risqué desire she'd ever had.
    “Your imagination runs away with you,” she managed. “How are you to know if I would be interested in such an afternoon?”
    Reddick's eyebrow raised in response and he grinned. “You'd be my wife. I would expect it of you.”
    Stepping to the side, she put distance between them. “Wives are fickle creatures. What you speak of,” she continued with a saucy grin she couldn't quite help, caught up in this newness of sensation as she was, “is better suited for a mistress. I am a proper young woman and my only interest is in seeing to the running of your household. And spending your money,” she added tartly, “on the latest fashionable frocks.”
    The laugh was amused, easy, as if he didn't quite believe her but would indulge her. Oh good Lord, had he seen them this afternoon? Did he know her secret?
    In a move she didn't expect, he stood before her. His hand cupped her breast, kneading gently, and Sabine refused to arch further into his touch. “You can have all the frocks and baubles you desire. As long as I can have the bauble I want.”
    Stepping back, she broke contact and frowned at him. The conversation had veered in a dangerous direction. Far from discouraging him, every move she made showed her just how persistent