Christian Seaton_ Duke of Danger(40)

‘I did not—I will not allow anyone to “lock you up in chains”, Lisette!’ Christian huffed his impatience.

She gave a shrug of her shoulders. ‘M’lord Maystone may have other ideas.’

Christian frowned his frustration for several moments, able to see the vulnerability in Lisette’s eyes that she obviously thought to hide from him with the lashing of her tongue. Just as he recognised the stubborn set of her mouth for what it was—a determination on her part not to reveal that vulnerability.

He gave up any idea of having Lisette come to him and instead made the move to join her on the other side of the carriage. Movement, along with the jolting of the carriage, that caused him considerable pain but which he chose to ignore. He was more interested in Lisette’s welfare than he was his own; he knew everything that had been revealed to her since they arrived in England must be more than a little frightening for her. Completely in character for the young woman he had come to know, she did not wish anyone to see that fear. Least of all, him.

Her eyes widened in alarm as she obviously guessed his intention. ‘You must not—’

‘I already am, my dear Lisette,’ Christian assured her as he sank down gratefully onto the seat beside her before turning to take her in his arms. ‘The “mountain” will happily come to you if you will not come to it,’ he murmured ruefully. ‘Lisette, please,’ he cajoled as she struggled in his arms.

Lisette had no strength to remain immune to the plea in Christian’s voice, her shoulders dropping their defensive stiffness as she stopped fighting him and instead sank down against him, her head resting on his shoulder and so allowing her to hear the steady beat of his heart. ‘I have done nothing wrong, Christian,’ she said huskily.

His arms tightened about her. ‘I know.’

‘Do you?’ She looked up at him.

‘Yes.’

‘How do you know?’

He gave a regretful grimace. ‘By the fact that you really did not wish to travel to England with me, but came only for my comfort. By the fact that you most certainly did not wish to travel to London today.’

‘That is true.’ Lisette eyed him guardedly. ‘But you did not seem to think that yesterday.’

‘I have had a great deal of time to think since yesterday.’ He sighed. ‘Lisette, could we perhaps make ourselves more comfortable?’

‘More comfortable?’ she echoed doubtfully; she was already seated beside him and held in his arms; how much more ‘comfortable’ could they get inside a moving carriage?

‘If I sit back this way, thus.’ Christian moved so that his back was against the side of the coach rather than the back of the seat. ‘Then I am able to do this, thus.’ He manoeuvred his injured leg so that it lay along the length of the seat. ‘And you can now sit, thus.’ He turned Lisette so that she now sat along the length of the seat between his legs, her back resting against his chest, her feet on the seat and her knees drawn up, his arms about her waist.

A position Lisette was not at all sure to be proper, with so much of their bodies now in such close contact, particularly her bottom nestled back against the intimate vee between Christian’s thighs.

She moistened her lips nervously. ‘Christian...?’

‘Are you about to deny me this simple pleasure, Lisette?’ His voice was husky and extremely close to her ear.

Lisette was only too well aware that she was incapable of denying this man anything. It was part of the reason she had been so defensive on the journey from France to England, and for the time they had spent at the inn together. The same reason she had been so against accompanying him to London today.

Christian Seaton was not only the most handsome man she had ever seen, but also a duke, and a man whose service was valued by the English Crown.

A man far and above her own lowly station in life—the bastard daughter of a woman who owned and ran a French tavern. The same woman Christian knew to be plotting against his own Prince Regent, and who might be—no, in all probability was!—connected to the kidnapping of this man Maystone’s young grandson.

The two of them sitting together so cosily in this carriage was ludicrous in those circumstances.

And yet...

Lisette was no longer an innocent when it came to a man’s body, and she could now feel the undeniable hardness of Christian’s lengthy arousal pressing against her.

His arms about her waist held her tightly back against him, and his hands were resting dangerously close beneath the fullness of her breasts.

She moistened her lips. ‘Christian, I do not think—’

‘I do not want you to think, Lisette,’ he groaned, his cheek now resting atop her head.