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He raised a brow. “You didn’t sound very certain of that.”

She let out a chuckle. She wasn’t certain. She didn’t have any siblings from her mother, that part she knew. But as for her sire… There was no way to be certain. But that wasn’t something she was willing to discuss now. Or ever. “I am certain I do not. When I was younger, I wished I did. But now I am glad I didn’t have anyone to look out for.” Then she bit her lip and threw him a flirtatious gaze. “You make it seem truly challenging.”

He barked a laugh. “Well, I am glad that at least I made you feel better about your situation.”

Jo’s smile didn’t leave her lips. “You have a wonderful family,” she said sincerely.

He nodded. “I can’t take any credit, unfortunately. Our parents raised them well. And after they passed, Isabel was the one who replaced our mother in their eyes.”

“What about you?”

“I do my duty the best way I know how,” he answered with a shrug. “Sometimes it means making tough choices.”

She threw him a side-eye glance. His brows furrowed, and he looked forward with a menacing gaze. What tough choices did he have to make to raise his family? As much as she believed his claim of Lady Vane being a mother to them all—she had such a calming air about her that even Jo sometimes wanted to curl up by her side and share all her worries—the viscount was the head of the family. And she was certain he had to make a sacrifice or two to prove it.

She cleared her throat. “I have to admit that sometimes… I do wish that I had an older brother making tough decisions for me when I was younger.”

He turned to her, looking surprised. “You do?”

She let out a chuckle. “I am good at looking out for myself. But I wasn’t always. Nobody is born good at it, I suppose. One is forced to learn.”

He paused and turned toward her, his expression troubled. “And what circumstances forced you to become good at it?”

She smiled. “That is too heavy of a question for a short affair, my lord. I am afraid it would take all the fun out of it.”

He watched her for one long moment, his gaze intense as if trying to read her mind. Then he tore his eyes away from her and looked around. There was a group of people a few paces ahead, but other than that, the path seemed clear. Richard’s eyes glinted with mischief as he took her by the hand and led her away from the path and deeper into the woods.

Jo giggled as she hopped over branches, trying very hard not to tear her silk gown. Finally, Richard stopped, whirled her facing away from the path, and pressed her against a tree.

“Very well,” he said, once he looked around and was satisfied that nobody was in the vicinity. “If we are here to have fun, then let us proceed.”

Jo raised her brow. “And how do you propose we pass the time?”

He lowered his head to hers, slowly, torturously. “I propose we misbehave,” he said hoarsely and kissed her on the lips.

Jo didn’t even try to resist. Her entire body sang when he was close to her. And the moment he pressed his lips against hers, her knees gave out and her body went pliant in anticipation of receiving pleasure.

Yes. This viscount knew how to dole out pleasure. He was doing it now with his wicked tongue that danced against hers and searched the corners of her mouth. He was doing it now with his wicked hands that roamed her body, making every fiber of her being come to life. And he was doing it now with his hard body that rubbed against her, awakening the sensations that were in deep slumber before she’d met him.

Oh, the sweet oblivion of passion. How much she’d missed it.

That night in the music room, he’d awakened the part of her long forgotten and now he kept awakening more and more of her pleasure centers.

She moaned and ran her hands up his hard, hot chest. She weaved her arms around his neck, anchoring herself to him. Richard wound his arm around her waist and pulled her hard against him. His other hand lifted her skirts, baring her legs to the cool summer breeze.

Jo immediately wrapped her leg around his hips, and he let out a growl. His chest vibrated with the sound, reverberating against Jo’s body. He pressed her firmer against the tree, his hips grinding against her center.

Jo moaned and pressed herself even closer to him as the hot liquid seeped from between her legs. God, she needed him there. She needed him touching her there.

“Richard!” she cried in frustration.

He smiled wolfishly, then bit her lip. “Tell me what you want,” he growled, his dark blue eyes like the sea during the storm.

Jo lost all ability to communicate. All she could do was whimper in answer.

Richard’s hand slid under her petticoats and moved up until he grabbed her buttocks. “What do you want?” he repeated gravely.

“You,” Jo said simply.