Chapter Twelve
Lucy couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t do anything but lie in Duncan’s arms as the last waves of pleasure washed over her.
She’d had orgasms before. But she had never felt anything like this. Never. She hadn’t known shecouldfeel pleasure so strong, so intense.
And Duncan had been the one to give her that sensation.
Duncan!
She was going to be forced to admit that he was no meek, mild-mannered gentleman.
He was a scoundrel.
He was probably a rake.
He knew exactly what he was doing to her with his mouth and his fingers—God, thosefingers. And that tongue.
Oh, yes. He knew what he was doing. And what he was doing was exactly the sort of thing she liked. It had been so long since she’d even thought about a man as more than a fellow agent. All her energy and attention had been focused on becoming a Royal Saboteur. She hadn’t had time for men.
And then, of all the men to tear her attention away, it was Duncan Slorach who had brought her, literally, to her knees. And what timing! They were supposed to be on a mission, supposed to be keeping watch for a potential assassin.
“Mr. Fog would have failed us both for that,” she said, her voice sounding husky and like she’d just come awake. That wasn’t far from the truth.
“It’s a good thing he isn’t here, then. The only marks I care about are those you give me.”
She chuckled and pulled away so she could see his face. “You’d know I was lying if I said I didn’t like that. I more thanlikedit.”
“I’ll give you five minutes and show you something else you’ll like.”
Lucy put a hand on his chest, not to pull him closer this time, but to keep him where he was. “That’s not a good idea.”
He gave her a rakish smile.Howhad she not seen this side of him before? “I’ll change your mind.”
“You won’t. This”—she made a gesture that encompassed both of them—“should never have happened. We’re on a mission.”
“We both know there will be no rendezvous tonight, but if you’re concerned, I promise you I can keep watch and find my way under your skirts.”
The heat that had been cooling in her belly began to bubble at that statement. She just bet he could do any number of things while making her orgasm.
She had to stop thinking like that or she’d need to start fanning herself. She pressed her thighs together, which reminded her that she wasn’t wearing her drawers. She spotted them on the floor and rose. Stepping into them, she pulled them up and under her skirts.
“Have it your way then,” he said. “We’ll just keep watch.”
“It’s better this way,” she said. “Things between us should have never gone as far as they have.”
He gave her a long look, his face unreadable in the dim light. She was glad it was dark because she feared if she had been able to see clearly, she might have spotted a flash of hurt. He’d never show it. He was an agent. He could hide his emotions. But how could he fail to be wounded? He’d just spent a quarter hour pleasuring her. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t have some attraction to her, didn’t want more than simply the friendship she was offering.
Truth be told, Lucy struggled even now not to climb into his lap and kiss him until both of them were panting and struggling to remove clothing. But one of them had to think of the mission. They were trained professionals stationed here to protect a family, to protect a little boy. They couldn’t allow their baser instincts to distract them.
Not to mention, the more Lucy came to know Duncan, the more she liked him and valued his friendship. She didn’t want to lose that and, in her experience, men and women who’d been lovers could rarely remain friends.
She hoped they hadn’t gone too far already.
