In the Flesh by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online Page B

prudent, she wouldn’t even have got herself into the start of this trouble.
    Finding her feet, she wriggled away, and as her skirts swished down into place again she smoothed them compulsively with her hands. But no amount of smoothing and patting could wipe away what had just happened underneath them.
    “You can’t behave as if that didn’t just happen, you know.” He looked at her, long and hard, his eyes dancing. “I have the evidence.” In a slow, lascivious action, he raised his right hand to his lips, and licked the very fingertips that had stroked her so thoroughly. “Mmm…delicious. I could become addicted.”
    “You’re disgusting, Mr. Ritchie.” Beatrice strode across to the sideboard, where a silver tray bore decanters and crystal glasses. It was the first time she’d ever helped herself to alcohol in the way men customarily did, but the aromatic bite of a fine brandy might calm her nerves. She stared at Ritchie over the crystal rim of the vessel, and what she noticed made her grin before she took a revivifying sip.
    A vivid red bite mark adorned his neck, just above his crisp high collar, and he still sported a prodigious erection.
    Serves you right! I hope it’s exceedingly uncomfortable. Because I’m not going to do anything about it.
    “You could help with this.” He glanced down, following her look, his long lashes flicking. “I’m sure you know what to do.”
    “Of course I do, Mr. Ritchie, but I’m afraid I’m not going to oblige you at the moment.” Clopping down the glass on the tray, Beatrice swept across the room and retrieved her forgotten fan, reticule and dance card. She half anticipated that her antagonist would intercept her with one of his preternatural bursts of speed, but he remained where he was, and when she reached the door, he even stepped aside. “You’ve had your sample, and there’ll be nothing further until I see an…an offer in writing. With no assets and no good reputation, I’ve got to be sure of what I’m getting before I give anything more in return.”
    Ritchie shook his head, but the expression on his face was as much about admiration as it was of thwarted lust. “You’re a shrewd businesswoman, Beatrice.” He rubbed his neck where she’d bitten him as if silently adding a few other choice descriptors. “In your place, I’d do exactly the same. You’ll have a letter tomorrow.”
    So easy? Yes, she supposed so. The formal particulars were the least of it. The very least.
    “Excellent. Good. I’ll look forward to it.” She turned the key, grabbed the doorknob and swung open the door, her heart thudding. A few moments ago, this wretched man had gasped as if he’d been running, now she felt as if she’d done the fabled run from Marathon too. And probably back again. “I’ll bid you good-night, Mr. Ritchie. I think it’s time I went home. I’m feeling rather fatigued and need to rest.”
    Barely pausing to accept his elaborate bow, and not wanting to see his mocking smile, Beatrice rushed out into the corridor, pulling the door closed behind her with a loud slam. Impolite behavior, she admitted, but after what had happened in that room just now, the natural boundaries of polite, acceptable behavior were redefined forever.
    Would he follow? She hesitated just a second or two, but the door remained closed. Much for the best, she supposed, but in that case why did her heart sink inside her with crushing disappointment?
    What have I done? Oh dear God in heaven, what have I done?
    Between her thighs, right at her core, she felt his touch.
    The corridor was silent, but in her head, she heard Edmund Ellsworth Ritchie laughing.

CHAPTER FOUR
    In the Pale Moonlight
    CHARLIE WEATHERLY BREATHED deep as he exited onto the moonlit terrace and made his way, somewhat shakily, down the broad steps that led to the garden.
    His head was whirling, and his heart beating. This evening was not turning out to be satisfactory at all. Not at all. He’d spent a large