He did not blame them. Because in truth, that’s what he did, what he was. Seduce and dominate. Charm and manipulate. A user of women. How they would scoff, Rothbury mused bitterly, if they knew that he was secretly in love with the silly little chit, spectacles and all.

By some miracle, Charlotte’s polite smile never wavered. It was a proud moment for her. After all, it wasn’t every day that a little old lady told you right to your face that your bosom was as flat as a flounder.

After months of searching for the perfect gentleman, you now crave a steady dose of wicked men and you've decided to start with me." He patted his lap, knowing she couldn't see the gesture in the dark. "I don't think I should like you finding another, so I shall work hard to hold your attention.

What are you doing here?" she asked, taking the flowers from him. Some of their petals had fallen off from the bumpy climb. "I mean, I'm happy to see you, but why aren't you home?""Wherever my wife sleeps is my home.

Am I dead?"A beat of silence, then came the soft hush of rustling fabric. It sounded as if she surrounded him. Her scent certainly did, delicate citrus and warmth. Mmm. He smiled. "You smell like sunshine."What a ridiculous thing to say. Maybe he was dead... and in heaven.

Her bottom lip started to tremble and she made a tiny, heart-breaking squeak of a sound."Shhhhh," he said in a whisper of air, sounding, even to his own ears, like a wolf comforting a lamb right before he devoured her.

Charlotte groaned feverishly, a tension building within her core that begged for release.Grunting, he lifted his hips slightly, expertly angling his body so that part of him pressed against the nubbin of flesh.She called out his name, clasping his shoulders. Her hips pumped furiously now, a building, pulsing ache growing and growing, winding tighter and tighter still. Until it exploded.And then they both cried out, surging upward and down, their bodies shaking with pleasure.

Go on, Charlotte," came a dark whisper from her left. "Take a bite."She turned to see Rothbury smiling devilishly. Heat billowed up from her belly as she stared at his mouth. Images of their kiss swam into her vision. She blinked them away. She licked her lips. He watched, licking his own.

He watched her retreating form, his sinful mind fixating on her small, pleasantly rounded bottom, which had a wiggle that was definitely unintentional, but quite engaging.Apparently deeming it safe to come out again, his stallion, Petruchio, came out from hiding. The beast nudged Rothbury in the back, breaking his concentration."I beg your pardon," he muttered to the horse. "I do not have the attention span of a butterfly when it comes to women.

Visions of a slumbering Miss Greene drifted through his thoughts. He imagined that her wheat-colored hair would be unbound, streaming across the pillow like a golden banner. He rather thought she'd toss around in her sleep a lot, which would cause her nightdress to become rucked up to her hips, revealing her thighs, smooth as cream, and her silky-