Countess of Scandal by Laurel McKee Read Free Book Online

or artful about their kiss. It was frantic, hungry, and passionate, full of the dreams of years, of adult need, of fear and darkness and the force of life itself.
    Through the hot, humid blur, Eliza shoved his coat back from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as she reached for the fastenings of his shirt In her haste, she tangled the lacings, breaking them, but at last she could reach between the linen edges and touch him.
    His skin was hot, like heated satin over iron-hard muscles, roughened by a crisp sprinkling of hair. She touched the arc of his ribs, the line of his lean waist, greedy for more of him.
    She traced the flat disc of his nipple, feeling it pucker under her caress.
    "Eliza," he groaned against her mouth. His lips trailed to her cheek, her jaw, the sensitive little hollow just below her ear. His tongue swirled there, his breath hot against her, and she shivered.
    "Will," she protested, shaken to the core by the force of her desire. She had never felt like this before, had never been so close to losing all her hard-won control. She half pushed him away, but he would have no mercy on her. His open mouth kissed the curve of her shoulder, and he eased away her dressing gown, the neckline of her thin chemise, until her breasts were bare to him.
    "Eliza," he breathed. "So beautiful. I dreamed of this, so many nights in the islands." Lightly, enticingly, he traced the curve of her breast, the soft skin, moving closer and closer to her aching, erect nipple, but never quite touching. Never quite giving her what she wanted.
    "You dreamed of this?” she said, laughing shakily. "With all the dark beauties there?"
    "No one has ever been more beautiful than you, Eliza Blacknall," he said, just before his mouth closed over her nipple at last.
    She cried out from the pleasure of it, the hot rush of desire flowing through her. She collapsed to the floor, but he caught her, falling with her as they kissed, again and again. A wild tangle of clothes, arms, lips...
    A crash sounded from outside the window, a loud, metallic clang followed by a burst of drunken laughter. It was like a sudden blast of cold rain, a storm dousing the flames of passion.
    Eliza pulled away from Will, covering her face with her hands. She trembled as if in a winter wind, her mind whirling. She felt like such a great fool. All her hard work, her years of caution! Gone in a moment, because she turned back into an infatuated fifteen-year-old at the sight of Will Denton's handsome face.
    But he was not her Will anymore, not really. That young man who had once made her feel so alive, so bursting with joy, was gone. This man before her was a veritable stranger. An English stranger, in a red coat.
    Eliza's hands slid from her eyes, and she stared at him, still amazed at her wild folly. But then, perhaps it was not so amazing after all. He was a handsome man, with his golden hair and golden skin, with his lean, hard body. And she had been alone for a long time.
    He stared back at her, his eyes midnight blue, his lips parted as he caught his breath. His unlaced shirt hung from his shoulders, with his skin gilded in the firelight, like some ancient pagan idol.
    Yes, her feelings were natural. It was only lust—desire and memory, all tangled up in the strain of all the endless, tense waiting. But she had to be careful—very careful— from this moment on.
    Will leaned back on his elbows, sprawling on her carpet as his hair spilled over his shoulders. An unreadable little smile touched his lips as he watched her. A pagan god, indeed. A heroic legendary warrior, Cuchulainn, returning victorious from his cattle raids and waiting for his reward.
    Well, he could wait until Morrigan, the death goddess, came along and snatched him away! Eliza pulled her dressing gown tightly around her and scrambled to her feet
    Will's grin widened as he gazed up at her. "Now, that is what I call a grand welcome home, Eliza."
    "Oh, do get up!" she cried, her head still