The Last Wicked Scoundrel by Lorraine Heath Read Free Book Online

should have their own area.”
    She felt a tiny bubble of joy burst within her chest. Avendale had never asked her opinion on anything. He’d always told her how things were to be. She especially liked that William was thinking of the little ones. “It’s a splendid notion. I think it should be right here.” She placed her finger on the far end of the building. He wrapped his hand around it.
    “I can think of no place better.”
    Her voice tried to lodge in her throat but she wouldn’t have it. She wanted to speak to him, she wanted to tell him everything. “And gardens. Lovely gardens where people can walk as they’re recovering. I remember the walks you would take me on, insisting I needed them to regain my strength.” Hesitating to say the next words, she swallowed hard. Avendale would have laughed at such silliness, but William wasn’t Avendale. Still, if he laughed, she would be incredibly hurt. But she had to risk it. She had tried to shape herself into what Avendale wanted and failed miserably. She needed someone who accepted her as she was. “They became my favorite part of the day.”
    Tenderly, he curled his hand below her chin and turned her face toward him until he was able to capture her gaze. “They were my favorite part of the day as well.”
    She didn’t know quite what to say to that admission. After last night, she’d dared to hope that she meant something special to him, but they were so very different in rank and purpose. She considered suggesting that they go for a walk now, but she didn’t want to move away from where she was. So near to him. He smelled of sandalwood. His jaw and cheeks were smooth. He’d shaved before he came to see her. His hair curled wildly about his head, and she wondered if he ever tried to tame it, then decided he wouldn’t look like himself without the wildness.
    With his thumb, he stroked her lower lip. His blue eyes darkened. She watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed. Leaning in, he lowered his mouth to hers. She rose up on her toes to meet him, inviting him to possess, plunder, have his way. She became lost in the sensations of his mouth playing over hers, vaguely aware of his twisting her around so they were facing each other. As she skimmed her hands up over his shoulders, his arms came around her, drawing her nearer. He was a man of nimble fingers, skilled hands that eased hurts and injuries and warded off death. He had mended her with those hands, and now with his lips he was mending her further.
    Suddenly changing the angle of his mouth, he deepened the kiss, his tongue hungrily exploring, enticing her to take her own journey of discovery. He tasted of peppermint. She could well imagine him keeping the hard candies in his pocket to hand to children in order to ease their fears. Snitching one for himself every now and then.
    He folded his hands around the sides of her waist and, without breaking his mouth from hers, lifted her onto the desk. Parchment crackled beneath her. She knew she should be worried that they were ruining the plans for the hospital, but she seemed unable to care about anything beyond the wondrous sensations that he was bringing to life.
    Avendale had never kissed her with such enthusiasm, such resolve. She felt as though William were determined to devour her, and that it would be one of the most wondrous experiences of her life.
    Hiking her skirts up over her knees, he wedged himself between her thighs. Very slowly, he lowered her back to the desk until she was sprawled over it like some wanton. On the desk! She had never known this sort of activity could occur anywhere other than the bed. It was wicked, exciting, intriguing. Surely he didn’t mean to do more than kiss her, not that she was opposed to him going further.
    She’d gone so long without a caress, without being desired, without having passions stirred. She felt at once terrified and joyful while pleasure curled through her.
    As he dragged his mouth along