The Unexpected Duchess(89)
Derek’s eyebrow immediately arched. “Well, now, this is entirely unexpected.”
Lucy slowly retrieved the door, closed it, locked it, and forced herself to walk calmly to his side. “I have a tendency to be a bit unexpected, Your Grace.”
A smile hovered over his firmly molded lips. “I’ll say. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my bedchamber, Miss Upton?”
Lucy pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Miss Upton. She’d missed being called that. She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you were no longer courting Cass?”
He settled himself back against the pillows, removing his spectacles and placing them on the table next to him. “For one thing, I assumed Cassandra would have told you, and for another, you made it quite clear the last time we spoke that you wanted nothing to do with me.”
She ran her hand along the blanket next to his thigh. “I only wanted nothing to do with you if you were courting Cass.”
He groaned. “You told me to court Cass. You demanded I marry her, if I remember correctly.”
She touched his hand, lightly. “I thought that’s what Julian and Cass wanted.”
He tilted his head to the side. His grin was crooked. “Who gives a damn what Julian and Cass want? Besides, what about you and Berkeley?”
“I don’t care about Christian.”
“You looked as if you cared about him at the theater last night.”
She shrugged. “That meant nothing. We cannot even hold a conversation.”
“Yes, well, it didn’t bode well for the chap given that he had to have another man write letters for him.”
Her gaze locked with his. “What do you mean?”
“Meet the author of the letters from your beloved Lord Berkeley.” Even though he was sitting, Derek did a semblance of a bow at the waist.
Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “You wrote those letters?”
“Yes, and you kissed Berkeley.”
Lucy snapped her mouth shut. “I might have kissed him, but I was thinking about you the entire time.” She didn’t stop to acknowledge the mollified look on his face at that news. “How could you? Pretending to be someone else?”
He blinked at her innocently. “I seem to remember someone once hiding behind a hedgerow and speaking for someone else from atop a balcony. I’d say we’re quite even, my love.”
The words “my love” made her stop. Stop and stare at him. Then she began to laugh. Lucy laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. It was all just too ridiculous. “Oh, Derek. If I didn’t know any better, I’d feel as if we’d all been trapped inside the script of a romp play.”
He laughed, too, and when their laughter died away, they were silent, looking at each other cautiously, shyly.
Lucy pushed a curl away from her forehead, searching for something new to say to make it less awkward. “Did you know Julian’s recovered? He’ll be coming home soon.”
His fingertips glanced over hers, causing a wave of heat to undulate through her body. “Yes, my brothers just returned from the Continent and told me so. I’ve never been so damned glad to hear such news. For more reasons than one.”
“What other reason?” she asked.
Derek reached out and stroked the side of her bare arm. She shivered. “As soon as Julian comes home, I can explain to him how thoroughly Lady Cassandra has rejected me. Then I can get to the business of marrying the woman I bloody well want to.”
Despite his curse word, Lucy couldn’t help her tiny smile. She widened her eyes. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” He crooked a finger indicating that she should come closer.
Lucy leaned forward.
Another quirk of his finger. “Closer,” he said.
She moved a bit more.
“Closer,” he coaxed.
“How close?” Her breath fanned across his face.
“Close enough to kiss me,” he whispered hotly.
Her lips hovered just over his. “Like this,” she murmured just before she brushed her lips against his.
Their lips met again. Once. Twice. Then he tugged her to him, her breasts pressing against his bare chest. His hot mouth opened her hers, his tongue plunging inside.
The kiss was electric, jolting her to the core. Joy sang through Lucy’s veins. They were going to make love, the two of them. Here, tonight, in Derek’s bedchamber, and Lucy wanted it so badly.
Hastily shoving his book aside, he pulled her on top of him. “I cannot wait to make you mine,” he whispered against her mouth. Their lips came together again. Their kiss was hot, fiery. Lucy was sure she would crumple into a messy pile of lust on his expensive duvet.