Duke or not, his cousin would flay him alive if she found out he was in the process of seducing her companion.
Even worse, it would disappoint her.
Chapter Seven
Edward sat at his desk in the third-floor study, scribbling like mad. He’d hated leaving Kaitlin’s bed, especially with a sharp morning arousal, but he’d needed to go. Had he stayed, surely their play would have been discovered.
He would not have been able to manage his passion.
Hunger for her burned in his gut, but he found the sting of it spurred his inspiration. Ideas for a new story, one involving a certain flame-haired goddess, had beset his mind. Words flowed from him at an astounding rate.
She was an inspiring little muse.
His quill froze when the door opened. He looked up.
Ah. It was her.
He smiled. “Good morning.”
She hovered on the threshold. “Am I intruding?”
“Not a bit of it. I was just thinking about you. Come in. Where are the others?”
“Having elevenses.” Was it that late? Gads, he’d been writing for hours. “I told them I had a megrim.”
“Did you?” Good girl. He closed his book. “Lock the door.”
She started. “Lock the door?”
He shot her a telling look. Loved her response. A flutter of lashes. A tiny smile. And, she locked the door. He liked that part best.
“What are you doing up here?”
“Nothing, darling.” He stood and made his way to her side. She looked especially lovely this morning. Though her hair was all done up in that annoying bun. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a stone.” She put out a lip. “You were gone when I awoke.”
“Of course I was.” He pulled her into his arms. “I left at dawn. Had to go, although I didn’t want to. The servants were beginning to stir.”
“You didn’t want to?” Ah. That made her smile.
“I wanted to do this.” He settled his mouth on hers for a quick kiss. It became something else. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her flush against him. Groaned as she wriggled.
How delightful.
They were alone, secluded in his private bower, in the chamber where he had just written a sweltering scene where the young Fiona, who had been captured by a highwayman, had succumbed to his swarthy charms.
He was highly aroused.
“Kaitlin. You are incredible.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Although…” He studied her.
“What?”
“This needs to go.” He plucked the pins from her bun, reveling in the heavy fall of her hair as he freed it. “Ah, yes.” He fisted it, brought a thick skein to his nose. “Lovely.”
“Edward, that took some time to arrange.”
“It’s a sin to waste time in pointless pursuits.”
She laughed.
“Why do you wear it up? It’s so annoying.”
“Annoying?” She blew out a breath. “It’s necessary.”
“Why?” He buried his face in her neck. Nibbled. She shivered and rubbed against him.
“It drives men to mischief, I’ve found.”
“Never say it.” Mischief, hell. It drove men mad.
“Edward, do stop. I’ve come to ask you a question.”
He pulled back, a frown on his brow. “I thought you came to give me the rest of my kisses.”
“Ho! I think you had plenty of those last night.”
“Not a bit of it. You owe me at least twenty more.”
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder and spun away. “Clearly you weren’t paying attention.”
“I was.” He had. In minute detail. The encounter was burned on his brain and would linger there until he was in his dotage. He was inclined to repeat it. Here. Now. He followed her across the room.
When he grabbed her and molded her bottom to his groin, she squealed. “Edward! Stop that. I have a question for you and it’s serious.”
Blast. He let her go. Best get this question out of the way. Then he would seduce her. He wanted nothing more than to finally know her. He cast about. There was a divan in the corner. That would do beautifully.
“Edward?”
He blinked, wrenched from his strategizing, and found her observing him with an impatient look on her face. Her fists were propped on her hips. “Yes?”
“Are you listening?”
“No.” Best be honest. “I was thinking about seducing you.”
Her lashes fluttered. She licked her lips. “Edward—please.”
“I would love to please you.” He stepped closer. It bothered him that she thought lovemaking unpleasant. Though that she hadn’t enjoyed it with that other man—that stupid, inept bungler—gratified him immensely. She would like it with him. She would love it with him. If he died trying.