When Beauty Tamed the Beast

His lips were unruly, demanding, not gentlemanly. She opened her mouth to him, allowing—nay, welcoming—him in all his lavish greed. In his kiss was an inquiry that she meant to refuse. They couldn’t do that again.

She tore away, her chest heaving. Only to find the beast laughing at her, his hands, both hands, clasping her breasts. Her bodice may not have had the claim to lasciviousness that Lady Bernaise’s had, but on the other hand, it was held in place by nothing more than a gathered ribbon. And Piers, deft, clever Piers, twitched the little bow on her right shoulder, causing her bare breasts to tumble straight into his hands.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His thumbs rubbed over her nipples. She actually squeaked aloud, it felt so delicious.

He had full possession of her breasts now, squeezing them almost roughly, bending his head . . .

Linnet’s back arched instinctively, and a kind of little scream flew from her lips. It woke her up.

“Prufrock, he’s just outside,” she stuttered, pushing at Piers’s shoulders.

He let go of her breasts only after her second shove. Linnet’s whole body thrilled again at the look in his eyes, the wild, uncontrolled desire vibrating from his face.

“We can’t do this,” she said, taking a deep breath. Which made her breasts rise in the air, and Piers’s eyes return to them like a drowning man sighting a rope.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered.

“You don’t think I’m too large there?” she asked, feeling stupid even as the words left her mouth. “My father said that I—that is, my governess once said I looked like a cow.”

“If cows looked like this . . .” Piers said, but he didn’t seem to be able to think of a second half of the sentence. Instead he reached out again, reverently this time. “Your breasts are perfect, Linnet. Every man’s dream.”

“Your dream?” she asked.

“I never dared to dream of someone like you,” he said, finally meeting her eyes.

She knew the smile in her heart had spread deliriously onto her face.

Instantly something changed in his. He reached out and pulled up her bodice, gently tugging on the ribbon and then tying it. She didn’t move, just sat watching his lowered eyes and wondering.

“Just because I never dreamed of you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to marry you,” he said finally.

“I know,” Linnet said, scrambling to put her wits together. “We aren’t suited. We agree on that.”

“Look, I brought you something,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little muslin bag neatly tied with string.

“What’s in it?”

“Mineral salts. Take a long bath this evening, and you’ll be set for swimming tomorrow.”

She took the bag. “A second bath! The footmen will complain of hauling all that hot water to my bedchamber.”

He shrugged. “As you wish.”

Then he stood, grasping his cane with one hand and holding out the other to help her to her feet. “I must go.”

He seemed suddenly irritated, as if he were blaming her for something. She caught his arm. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“We were having a perfectly good time a moment ago, and now you’re stiff and unfriendly.”

He turned around with a little snarl. “A man never likes it when he almost loses his head over a woman.”

Linnet frowned at him. “I see no sign of your losing your head.”

“I made up my mind long ago that I wouldn’t marry,” he said, scowling back at her. “I can hardly take care of myself, let alone someone else.”

Linnet nodded. “That seems a foolish reason to abjure matrimony, but you did say so. I haven’t asked you to change your mind, have I?”

“No.”

“Then why are you blaming me for any errant thoughts that might have flown through your thick head?” she retorted. “I was not thinking of matrimony when you kissed me.”

A rough bark of laughter escaped his throat. “Neither was I.”

“Then why the fit of sullens?” She let go of his arm.

“Because I’m an ass?” he offered, relenting. “But I really must go assist with Sébastien’s patient, or he will be furious at me.” There was a smile in his eyes, so she took his arm and let him escort her from the room.

Just before he opened the door, he stopped and dropped a kiss on her nose. “If I were to marry anyone, Linnet, it would be you.”

“I always knew these breasts would come in handy,” she said with satisfaction.

He laughed at that. “If I were a different man, this would be a different story.”

“Imagine that,” she said. “I could be dallying with a fiancé who doesn’t turn on me like a viper when he has a fit of megrims.”

“Megrims! You make me sound like a sour maiden aunt.”

“Megrims,” she repeated, giving him a saucy smile. And then, more reasonably: “You really do have to control your anxiety, Piers. I promise that I haven’t suddenly decided that you’re the spouse I always wanted, no matter how much I enjoy your kisses.”

He blinked, glanced down at his cane. “I’m a fool. A vain fool, in this case.”

“It’s not your leg,” Linnet said quickly.

But he was grinning, pushing open the door to the entryway. “My vile tongue, I assume?”

“A woman would have to take that into account,” she pointed out. “She might not welcome that vile tongue of yours making havoc at the breakfast table.” She hesitated and decided to just say it: “We’re playing. And I—I deserve to play, after all that has happened to me recently.”

He was nodding. “You do. And I’m a fool, just as you said.” And then, in front of the footmen and Prufrock and anyone else who might be in the entryway, he bent his head and kissed her, one of his lustful kisses that took no prisoners.

A demand.

And she gave, she gave instinctively, her hand clutching his coat lapel, her body swaying toward his, her lips clinging to his when he raised his head.

He leaned forward and said in her ear, so quietly that no one could hear. “You’re one hell of a playmate.”

Then he was gone, clumping up the stairs.

Linnet forced herself to meet Prufrock’s eyes. “I’d like a bath, if you please.”

He nodded to one of the footmen. “Of course, Miss Thrynne. I believe your maid is in your chamber, waiting for you.” He cleared his throat. “The mongrel who now goes by the name of Rufus has been washed and trimmed, though I can’t say it has improved his looks to any measurable amount.”

She’d forgotten all about that. “He can come to my room,” she said, with a sigh.

Prufrock did not approve. “The dog will be perfectly comfortable in the stables, or even in the boot room, if you insist.”

She shook her head. “I promised Gavan. He’s terrified that Rufus will run away during the night.”

“The boot room will prevent that.”

“I promised,” Linnet repeated. “If someone could deliver him after my bath, I would be most grateful.”

Of course, the butler was all business, as if he hadn’t witnessed their kiss.