Libertine Lord, Pickpocket Miss. Bronwyn Scott

explain what she was doing here to start with. This wasn’t exactly a room one deliberately sought out.

      Her eyes followed the sound of his voice until they found him rising from the sofa. She masked her own surprise quite well. “Is this where they’re keeping the champagne these days?”

      â€œI brought the champagne. You were gone,” Julian replied tersely. He stepped around the sofa and moved closer. “Have you gotten lost? I’d be glad to escort you back to the ball.”

      â€œOh no, I’m not ready to go back to the ball,” she demurred politely, moving to take a chair near the sofa he’d just vacated. “In truth, Mr. Burke, I am hiding from someone. It’s why I had to slip off and leave you, much to my regret.” She shook her head most convincingly. “When I saw this dreadful person, I couldn’t bear the thought of being discovered by him. He’s quite odious in his attentions. I think I shall rest here a bit. You don’t need to wait for me if you wish to return downstairs. I doubt anyone will find me here.”

      Julian crossed his arms. “True enough. It’s amazing you found your way here, so far from the ballroom.” Her answer was not conducive to his plans. He needed her out of this room. He’d spent months planning this. He would not be subdued at the end by a pretty, nameless chit. But she showed no signs of moving from the chair.

      â€œIt could be compromising for the two of us to be found in this room alone together,” Julian pressed, finding his patience quickly waning. She had deserted him on the veranda and now she had suddenly appeared again with no intentions of leaving in the near future.

      â€œAs you said, this room is not on the common path. It’s doubtful anyone will come across us,” she said confidently, then added coyly, “If you’re worried for your reputation or mine, you could always leave.”

      The pretty minx was getting on his nerves. Julian decided to be blunt. “On principle, you should leave. I was here first.”

      â€œOn principle, you, as the gentleman in this scenario, should leave and accede to a lady’s wishes,” she said sweetly before adding, “But principles and reputations are moot issues really after our earlier discussion. Unless I misunderstood you in the ballroom? Was all that talk of strawberries and wool blankets just a gentleman’s daydream?” She dropped her eyes to a place a lady was never supposed to look on a man while managing to give the impression of demureness. “I thought you were going to try to seduce me and I was going to try to resist.”

      Julian’s jaw clenched. It was time to test this dichotomous angel’s mettle. Was she as innocent as she looked, or was she the adventuress her dancing eyes and wicked challenges suggested? He stepped toward the chair she occupied and bent forward, a hand resting on each arm of the chair, effectively trapping her. She caught her breath.

      â€œYou are a master flirt, my pretty vixen. I would be happy to seduce you if you think you’re up to it.” He expected her to push at him. It was what he wanted. He’d let her succeed and race toward the door. No self-respecting society miss would countenance such a naked invitation. It might be one thing to tease a man so avidly on a dance floor surrounded by hundreds of others. It was a far riskier proposition to flaunt those wiles in private with no one to interfere. Here in the dark, the proverbial safety net was gone.

      Instead, she propelled herself into his arms with three little words he’d have loved to hear if circumstances had been different: “The sofa, quickly.”

      Chapter 3

      The force of her motion drove them both backward onto said piece of furniture. Julian hit the sofa hard with her on top of him in an inelegant sprawl. Then he heard what she’d heard moments before: people. Someone else had found the dratted room, two of them with libidinous intentions from the sounds they were making. Good lord, the entire party would soon be ensconced in this most remote chamber.

      â€œDon’t just lie there, kiss me, or we’ll be stuck here for the duration of their affair.” She jerked her head toward the sounds of the interlopers, whispering in stern, dictatorial tones that didn’t sound in the least like the dulcet voice of an innocent young lady. Come to think of it, she didn’t feel like an innocent young lady either. The breasts crushed against him, spilling out of her ball gown, were definitely a woman’s breasts, full and lush. Julian’s erection stirred to life. How could it not? She was stunning in the flush of excitement—her breath coming fast, her green eyes flashing, her hair falling out of its coiffure around her face.

      Intuition told him she wasn’t what her appearance led him to believe. For the first time, it occurred to him that she was possibly a liar, a very beautiful liar. The thought completed his arousal, the proof of which was pressing against her stomach in obvious force. She really mustn’t wiggle like that.

      Suddenly Julian jerked. The minx had her hand on him in a most indecent way. He was no prude, but he at least liked to exchange names before such proceedings. Before he could protest, she silenced him with an openmouthed kiss. She moaned audibly, her hand running the length of him, taking his measure through his trousers. “Oh my lord, you’re magnificent, so big, so powerful.” She gasped and giggled, making every effort to be heard. She lifted her face far enough from his for him to read her arch expression.

      Julian smiled. He understood her game, a clever ploy to expel the new invaders from the room. “It is you who makes me such a stallion, my sweetling,” he parried, nipping at her bottom lip and coercing a surprised squeal from her. It served the wench right for taking his trousers at unawares. She sucked at the delicate lobe of his ear in retaliation. He groaned his appreciation and the game within the game was fully underway.

      This venture was quickly becoming less about driving the intruders from the room and more about something else altogether. His stranger was an able partner; nibbling at his ear, stroking him expertly with her hand until he thought he might lose control without even taking his trousers off. That would be a first.

      His minx drew back as suddenly as she had engaged. “I think they’re gone.” Gingerly, she lifted her head to peer over the sofa. Julian decided to tickle her one last time for good measure. He told himself such precautions were to keep up the believable pretense. But in reality, he knew better. He wasn’t ready for the game to be over. She gave a little scream and he pulled her back down onto him.

      â€œWhat was that for?” she scolded, pushing at his chest to lever herself upright.

      â€œJust in case they were still here. Are they?” Julian asked, admiring his view of her breasts, which were rising and falling in her indignation. He ached to cup them, to feel their purported firmness fill his hands. And why shouldn’t he? Such an action would only be returning the favor.

      â€œNo, they’ve gone.” She moved, trying to disengage. Julian held her firmly by the hips.

      â€œGood, then we can get back to our unfinished business, as it were.” Julian boldly glanced down at his aroused member.

      â€œI think not, sir. You have misconstrued my motives. Such actions were merely a distraction, a decoy. Now, if you’d please release me?”