The Dukes' Christmas Abductions by Doris O'Connor, Raven McAllan Read Free Book Online Page B

aware of how
little she wore, and the fact that her nipples were doing their best to stick
out and wave at him like the checkered flag at the race course.
    “And
that is not ridiculous, I suppose.” He stopped just in front of the bed, and
towered over her. A tall, somewhat menacing presence.
    “Not
to me, it isn’t.” Her voice came out somewhat wobbly, but there, she’d said it.
    “Then
prove it to me.”
    Clara
knew her mouth fell open at that imperious command, and the smirk that pulled
his lips up sealed the deal.
    Ignoring
her body’s almost overwhelming urge to sink to her knees in front of him, and to
beg him to finish what they’d started, she squared her shoulders, and got off
the bed on the other side with as much dignity as she could, which wasn’t much
at all.
    “Fine,
I will, let me just find my bag… ah here it is.” Clara spotted the tiny
drawstring bag which had come with her costume. She didn’t need the sudden
draft up her backside to know that she had just flashed her whereforalls to
Daniel, when she picked the thing up off the floor. His sharp intake of breath
confirmed he liked what he saw, and when she spun around, mobile phone in hand,
she wasn’t entirely surprised to see him tenting his breeches again.
    At
least she wasn’t the only one to feel the combustible heat between them. He
frowned when she clicked it on and the display lit up. Opening up her internet
browser she brought up the website for Haversham House, and with a triumphant
snort shoved the phone at him.
    “Here,
see. That’s the website for Haversham House, and that has me listed as the
curator, and James and Brenda, as permanent caretakers.”
    “Impossible.”
He sat down with a thump, and she gentled her voice as she guided his fingers
across the screen. His breathing sped up and his knuckles turned white in the
strangle hold he had on her phone, as she took him through the site.
    “And
you see, here on the blog is the invite to the Regency Christmas Ball. We do
this every year in an effort to find the heir, he…”
    His
head came up at the mention of an heir, and the fine hair on her arms rose at
his murmured response.
    “Through
time and space…you don’t belong…hell and tarnation.”
    He
got up so abruptly, she almost fell off the bed. Not that Daniel noticed
because he paced up and down the length of the room like a caged tiger, and
then almost yanked the bell pull off its mooring.
    “Erm,
you’re not expecting that to work, do you, because…” She stopped speaking at
his incredulous look, and held up her phone. “Let me text him. Cause they’re
just decoration … I think anyway.”
    “You
think? You’re the curator, and you think? Surely you would know what you’ve
done with my house?”
    ****
    His
cock tightened seeing Clara’s reaction to his words. She looked thoroughly
roiled at him questioning her abilities, and he hid his smirk when she got to
her knees and, hand on hips, glared at him. If looks could kill, he would have
already met his maker, and he wasn’t entirely sure this whole episode wasn’t a
wine fueled hallucination on his part. After all, he’d grown beyond wary at the
machinations of his time, and the expectancy of the ton for him to settle down
and marry, when nobody suitable for his needs had presented themselves. Daniel
had always known he would never settle for anything but true love in a marriage
and seeing Kit so much in love with his Lady Victoria had only cemented that
belief.
    “How
dare you? I’m perfectly capable of doing my job, or at least I would be, if
this wing wasn’t locked away and my hands weren’t tied with the idiotic rules
set by your ancestor, this Lord Reginald gay as a fence post Danvers, who thus
died childless, and what?”
    Her
ire increased in tune to his amusement, and he grew even harder. Damn it all,
he would have to have her and soon, or explode. All this talking, as important
as it was, was getting them nowhere fast, and he wanted, no