She couldn’t turn to look at him. “Not yet. They should arrive any minute now. What took you so long?”
“I couldn’t get away. Were you waiting long?” It was a simple, innocent question, yet it sounded teasing.
“Not too long,” she whispered. But another chill caused her body to tremble.
“Here, take my coat. You’re cold.” His large, warm hands ran up and down her upper arms before he slid out of his coat and wrapped it around her again. Did the man only wear a coat to offer it to others? It smelled divine, his heavy cologne enveloping her. At one time she had thought the cologne too strong, now it was heady. Protective.
He stood beside her. “Won’t they be able to see us from here?”
“Won’t the shadows hide us?”
“I don’t think so. Let’s not take that chance. We don’t want them too angry with us. Come on.” He entwined his fingers with hers and tugged her behind the roses. There was just enough spacefor two bodies to hide between the roses and the wall behind them. James leaned against the wall and pulled Joan’s back to his chest.
“Shhh…” he hissed, latching his arm around her waist. Even though she hadn’t been speaking, Joan clamped her mouth shut. They could hear footsteps.
But then she couldn’t help herself, she turned her head back slightly and whispered, “I’m quite excited.” And she was. Her heart was almost hammering outside of her chest. She wanted all the happiness, security, and good reputation for her friend as possible. This was the moment that could seal everything.
“As am I,” came an altogether too close whisper. “But we must be quiet now.” One of James's hands ribboned up her front and then his index finger touched her lips.
And that’s when the red flag waved. It waved blindingly right in front of her face. The largest flag she had ever borne witness to.
Her body stiffened.
She was alone with a man—a rake. She was pressed against his body—in the dark. In a garden. Alone. His finger had just brushed her lips. And her lips burned from his soft touch. What the deuce was she doing here? This was a terrible idea. She could have sent Sally out to the garden and left it at that. Why did she need to be there to witness it? If Sally was going to kiss Jacob, why did she need to witness that?
God, why had none of these questions surfaced earlier? How had her sisters let her go through with this asinine plan?
Before Joan could even begin to defend herself to logic, the voices started. And her plans went from terrible to mortifying.
Joan couldn’t make out everything that Jacob and Sally were saying, thankfully they were speaking in hushed tones and they were just far enough away from them. But—
Oh God, what was that sound? A moan.
Followed by a groan.
A mewl.
And then an, “Oh God, Jacob.”
Oh God, Joan!Joan. The Cautious one. The one with a level head. The one who made calculated decisions based on reason and common sense. And don’t forget etiquette. What the deuce had happened? She had met a rake and let him influence her. That’s what had happened. And now she stood here, eyes squeezed shut, wishing there was a way to squeeze her ears shut as well.
And how could she turn off her nipples? They were hard as pebbles. And tensing. And that spot between her legs. How could she turndownthe throbbing there?
She felt James's body harden behind her.
She squeaked, and a large, warm hand flew to her mouth.
“Shhh…” James hissed. And she could hear the tension in his voice.
And all Joan could think was, what does James think about all of this right now? He can’t surely be as calm as he feels.
Chapter 12
“The wise warrior avoids the battle.”
—Sun Tzu
WHAT THE HELL HAD he been thinking? This plan was a terrible idea. Who the devil had come up with it? James was inwardly shaking his head. He couldn’t recall who had suggested the tryst. Or who had recommended that they both wait out in the garden to ensure the tryst happened. Who had picked the hiding place? Why did this have to happen at night? Darkness hid many things, but not a swelling cock building against the backside of the heat-emanating woman pressed into him.
