“Oh my goodness!” The voice broke them apart.
Leo turned, breathing hard as if he’d run a mile, and blinked at the speaker who stood in the doorway, a young female wrapped in a pink satin garment that was all frills, staring with eyes that popped. “What on earth is going on here?” the female said. Her avid gaze dropped to his crotch and stayed there. Leo, realizing that his body was heavy and aroused, stepped behind a chair.
“Who the devil are you?” he snapped. She looked vaguely familiar, but at the moment he couldn’t think straight. All he knew was that he wanted to strangle her. What the hell was she doing out here at this hour of the night? Bursting in on something that was clearly private.
***
Izzy gathered her scattered wits about her. It was as though someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over her, shocking her back to reality. Except that her body was still hot and pliant and breathless and... and hungry. She felt, rather than saw, Lord Salcott step away from her.
She stared in disbelief at the unwelcome intruder, and the glorious bubble burst, the fragments falling around her feet, well and truly shattered. “Milly?What on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?” It must be two, or even three in the morning. Milly wore a ridiculous frilly dressing gown over what was clearly a nightgown.
The girl gave an indignant huff. “You have the gall to ask me that, Isobel Studley, whenyou’reso clearly Up To No Good! What areyoudoing out at this time of night, as if I didn’t know.Alone!Witha Man!Kissingand—andworse?”
Izzy gave a low, unsteady laugh. “I don’t think there was any ‘worse’ about it. It was all utterly blissful.” She glanced at Lord Salcott, who stood silent and unmoving as a stone statue.
Milly gasped. “You are totally shameless. Mama was right!”
“Isn’t she always?” Izzy said sardonically.
Milly’s gaze darted back and forth between Izzy and Lord Salcott. “I am shocked! Shocked by this Appalling Impropriety. You’re well and truly Compromised now, you know, Izzy.” She was trying to sound scandalized, but her voice oozed salacious glee.
The pretense of righteous moral outrage when Milly was so clearly delighted to have a scandal to nourish sparked Izzy’s temper. She stepped forward. “You keep your pointy little nose out of my affairs, Millicent Harrington, or I’ll—”
Milly skittered back. “Don’t you dare touch me, Izzy Studley or, or—I’ll call Mama!”
“Your mama will be snoring her head off, judging by the amount she drank at the party tonight.”
“How dare you! Mama doesn’t snore. And my nose is not pointy.” She covered her nose protectively.
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Just leave, Milly. Get out of here, and if you dare to breathe a word of this to anyone—and I include your precious mama in that—I guarantee I’ll make you regret it.”
Milly hesitated.
“Get. Out!” Izzy said, and lifting a hand, took a threatening step toward her.
Milly gave a little squeak. “Just make sure you put all those candles out,” she said in a parting shot, and then flounced away. The desperately frilly dressing gown, like all Milly’s clothes, was made for flouncing.
Izzy turned to Lord Salcott. “I’m sorry about Milly—”
“I’m sure you are,” he said crisply. “Good night, MissBurton.” And with a curt bow he departed, leaving Izzy staring after him.
What had just happened? One minute she was experiencing the most glorious bliss in his arms, the next it was as if he barely knew her. And she was Miss Burton again, not even the Miss Isobel he’d been calling her lately.
Was he angry about being interrupted? Of course he must be, but then so was she. And she could hardly be blamed for Milly’s unexpected arrival. She could gladly have throttled the girl.
But the way he’d acted, his abrupt departure, was very strange. And rather disappointing. This evening she’d discovered a very different Lord Salcott beneath the coldly autocratic man she’d met before. Until tonight she’d only had an occasional sense that he could be different—in his interactions with his friend Lord Randall he was much more relaxed and quite... appealing.
And their brief exchange when they’d been riding that day, revealing a man on the brink of flirting, quite charmingly. It was just enough to make her curious, and to want to know him better.
Tonight she’d learned he could be far more than just appealing.
She swallowed. The heat he’d sent spiraling through her still lingered. Her body was aching for... for she didn’t know what. But it was all to do with him. And his kisses. Those heated, luscious kisses.
She’d had no idea kissing could be like that.
The only other experience she’d had was when a horrid friend of her father’s had forced a kiss on her when she was a young girl. It had felt like a warm snail slithering over her skin. And when he’d tried to shove his disgusting slimy tongue between her lips—she shuddered, remembering.
By contrast Lord Salcott’s kisses were... she couldn’t think of a word. Sublime. Blissful. Enchanting.
