Christian Seaton: Duke Of Danger. Carole Mortimer
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Heart pounding, Lisette’s hands moved to cling to the folds of his evening cloak, as she felt herself completely overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through her body: excitement and pleasure. The latter manifested itself in the tightening of the bodice of her gown, as if her breasts were swelling, the rosy tips tingling, and there was an unfamiliar but not unpleasant warmth blossoming between her thighs.
It was singularly the most wonderful experience of her short lifetime, beyond any imagining, beyond—
The Comte brought the kiss to an abrupt end as he lifted his mouth from hers. ‘Do not speak, Lisette,’ he warned softly against her ear. ‘Whatever happens, do not speak.’
Whatever happens...?
Lisette felt too dazed still to understand what he meant by that. What did he imagine was going to happen? A kiss was a kiss, but anything more than that was unthinkable. And if the Comte thought— If he imagined for one moment—
‘Feel like sharing, mon ami?’
‘For the price I paid for her? Non.’ The Comte turned his head to answer the intruder with a dismissive laugh, at the same time as the bulk of his body managed to keep Lisette shielded from any gaze that might try to pry any further into the doorway. ‘I intend to take my money’s worth and more!’
‘Bon chance!’ another man called out laughingly as the two continued on their way.
Lisette’s face paled as she listened to the exchange between the three men, shocked by the earthiness of the conversation but also realising the Comte must have been protecting her from the attentions of the other men when he pushed her into the doorway.
At the same time she felt disappointed to realise that the Comte had kissed her for the same reason. It was a little humiliating to realise how much she had enjoyed the kiss when, to the Comte, it had only been a means of silencing her.
She pushed determinedly against the muscled chest pinning her in the doorway. ‘I believe we are alone again now, monsieur. You may release me,’ she instructed sharply as she failed to shift him by so much as an inch.
Christian had no desire to ‘release’ Lisette. Indeed, the opposite. He wanted to kiss her again, this time without the distraction of the approach of the two gentlemen he had noted leaving the tavern; Helene Rousseau’s meeting was obviously over for tonight. Which meant that more of the co-conspirators would shortly be leaving the tavern too.
‘We need to leave here, Lisette.’
‘I came only to warn you—’
‘Warn me?’ Christian questioned sharply as he stepped back slightly to look down at her. Not that he could see very much; the streets were dark, and the doorway even darker.
‘My—Helene did not take kindly to your attentions to me earlier this evening, monsieur—’
‘Christian. Call me Christian,’ he instructed shortly, having duly noted Lisette’s slight hesitation after ‘my’.
‘It is not permissible—’
‘I just kissed you, Lisette,’ he drawled. ‘I believe that now makes many things between the two of us “permissible”.’
She drew in a soft gasp. ‘It is ungentlemanly of you to talk of such things.’
Christian wanted to do more than talk about them; the throb of his arousal told him he wanted to kiss Lisette again, and keep on kissing every inch of her as he made full and pleasurable love to her. Which, given their circumstances, was beyond reckless of him.
Not only were they in a precarious position out here where they might be seen together, but also he still did not know whether Lisette was all that she appeared to be, or if she was working in cahoots with her aunt. Until he did know he would be wise to treat her, and anything she said to him, with suspicion.
Which would be easier for him to do if only she did not have those deep blue eyes he wanted to drown in, and those soft and delectable lips he wished to kiss and keep on kissing...
‘We cannot stay here, Lisette.’ Christian took a firm hold of her arm to pull her along at his side as he stepped out of the doorway and began to walk quickly away from the tavern. ‘My carriage is but a short distance away. We will talk again once we are inside and well away from prying eyes and ears.’
‘Please—I must return to the tavern before I am missed,’ Lisette protested as she almost had to run to keep up with the Comte’s much longer strides or risk falling over onto the dirty cobbles beneath her feet.
The Comte either did not hear her or chose to ignore her as he continued to stride purposefully, and knowledgeably, down several alleyways Lisette had not even known were there, despite having lived in Paris for some weeks now.
A carriage waited in the shadows of one of the streets, and it was towards this vehicle that the Comte now guided her as a groom jumped quickly down to hold the door open for them both to get inside.
Lisette held back from entering the carriage. ‘It is impossible for me to go with you, monsieur— Umph!’ The rest of Lisette’s protest was cut off as the Comte de Saint-Cloud unceremoniously picked her up in his arms and deposited her inside the carriage before tersely instructing the groom to move on as he joined her and the door was firmly closed behind him.
A lantern lit the inside of the heavily curtained carriage—which was perhaps the reason Lisette had not been able to see the light before now?—allowing her to appreciate the plushness of the interior.
And the man now seated opposite her...
His hair shone like burnished gold in the lamplight, those lavender eyes narrowed in a face that was far too handsome for any woman’s comfort. Especially so, when he had kissed that woman a short time ago and she was now alone with him in his carriage.
‘You take liberties, monsieur.’ Lisette glared across at the Comte as she now straightened her bonnet from where it had been knocked askew when he had picked her up and thrust her inside the carriage.
Some of the Comte’s tension seemed to ease and he relaxed back against the upholstery as the carriage began to move forward. ‘You are the one who came looking for me, Lisette, remember.’
She did remember. And she now regretted it. For surely this man had demonstrated in the past few minutes that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Even against such men as Helene might send to accost him? Yes, Lisette believed that might be the case.
That air of easy charm he had affected in the tavern earlier this evening had now been replaced by a narrow-eyed watchfulness. Which Lisette sensed could be as dangerous as Helene’s implied threats against him had been such a short time ago. Leading Lisette to believe she had wasted her time, and put herself in danger of incurring Helene’s wrath, by leaving the tavern to seek out and warn such a self-assured gentleman.
Her chin rose. ‘You were the one waiting outside the tavern in the hope I might join you.’
Christian