Page 70 of A Perfect Gentleman

He let out a muffled noise and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. “Abby, I’m a hairbreadth away from shoving up your skirts and taking you right here.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” She gave him a gentle push; then, pressing a light kiss against his lips, she slipped away.

chapter 23

“Abby, wait.” Graeme reached out for her. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

Abby took his hand, tossing a grin back at him, and led him down the hallway. “Just a wife’s duty, dear boy. Seeing to her husband’s comfort.” She moved quickly down the hall, reaching around the door of first one room and then another. “Ah, here we are.” Abby pulled him into the room, turning the gaslight to a dim glow.

“Where?” He glanced around at the space, jammed with tables of various sizes and heights and other pieces of furniture that had obviously been cleared from other rooms. “A storage room?”

“A room with a lock.” She reached behind him, closing the door and turning the key.

Heat flared in his eyes. “Abby . . .”

“What?” She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, her voice lifting in question, “You don’t want—”

“Oh, yes.” He took her waist in his hands. “I want.”

He picked her up and set her down on one of the tables, opening her legs to stand flush against her body. His arms wrapped around her, and he buried his lips in hers. His kiss was hard and urgent, his body radiating heat. Abby wound her arms about his neck and kissed him back, curving her legs around him to press him more tightly against her.

At last he released her, but only to roam his hands over her body. His eyes followed the movement, hot and dark. Abby leaned back, bracing her hands on the table, in unconscious invitation. It stirred something deep and primitive in her to watch as he took his pleasure with her. The taffeta crackled beneath his touch, and he grinned at her.

“This . . .” he said, his fingers sliding over her breasts and delving down beneath her dress to caress the soft flesh. “This is the best party I’ve ever attended.”

Abby began to laugh, and he caught her mouth with his, kissing her until she was almost dizzy. When he pulled away, his eyes were so bright and intense she could not look away. Holding her gaze, Graeme shoved her skirts up and reached beneath them, jerking loose the ribbons of her pantalets and peeling them down and off her legs.

Freeing himself from his trousers, he moved between her legs again and, lifting her a little, plunged deep within her. Abby groaned as he filled her to the utmost, wrapping her legs around his back to take him more fully within her. His thrusts rocked her body, and she dug her hands into his back, unable to muffle the sounds of her satisfaction.

His arms were like steel, holding her to him as he drove harder, faster . . . until at last pleasure exploded in her. Graeme buried his face in her neck, her name an incantation as he shuddered, swept to his own release.

He stood for a long moment, holding her, their breaths panting, flesh damp and trembling from the onslaught of desire. Graeme smoothed his hands over her back and pressed his lips into the soft skin of her neck. “Abby . . .”

“What?”

He raised his head, his eyes filled with sleepy satisfaction. “Nothing.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. “I just wanted to say your name.”

She stretched up to kiss him, then leaned her head against his chest. “Do you think we could stay here?”

He chuckled. “I think someone might wonder where we’d gone.”

“Mm. I wouldn’t want to be hunted down by the dowager countess.”

“God forbid,” Graeme agreed feelingly.

Reluctantly they parted and pulled their clothes back in order.

“I think I’d better go up and check in the mirror.” Abby adjusted a hairpin.

“You look beautiful.”

Her eyes danced. “I suspect I look like I’ve just been . . . doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Yes.” He smoothed his thumb over her lips. “Beautiful.”

She laughed and went to the door to peer out into the hall. It was empty. She looked back at him over her shoulder. Blowing him a kiss, she slipped out the door.

Abby spent several minutes in the cloakroom. One look in the mirror at her flushed face and disheveled hair convinced her that she must not only make repairs to her appearance but wait some time before it was safe to be seen by anyone. She kept to herself as she repinned her hair and straightened her skirts. She had no desire for company, feeling too soft and dreamy to face anyone.