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SECRET CONFESSIONS OF LADY H - BOOK 1 by Bethany Michaels
Copyright © Bethany Michaels, 2009
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.
EXCERPT FROM SECRET CONFESSIONS OF LADY H - BOOK 1
He stepped closer and I smelled a curious mix of light male musk, clean linen and some exotic spice I couldn’t name.
Before I could step away, he stroked my cheek, light as a whisper. The contact was a shock. I didn’t stop him. Not at first. Not until his eyes turned smoky and his gaze focused on my parted lips.
Then I stumbled in my haste to rid myself of his unsettling touch. No man had dared caress me like that, not since Edward.
He grinned. “No need to be afraid. I was merely trying to collect my toll.”
“I am not afraid. I am simply losing patience with a man who claims innocence in his misdeeds yet would force an introduction to someone who clearly does not find his acquaintance desirable.”
“But I find your acquaintance very desirable.” He cocked his head. “And I never claimed to be innocent.”
He traced the edge of my jaw with one fingertip. “I don’t think you really want to return to the ball. You haven’t danced a single set all night.”
It unnerved me that he had been watching me. And that his perception was so accurate.
“Tell, me how long has it been since Holbrook died?”
My breath caught. Although Edward’s name ran through my mind like a litany, no one had dared speak it aloud in my presence.
It was almost a relief.
This man didn’t pity me. And he saw through my attempts to remain distant, shut off, even in the middle of a crowd. He saw the real me, the one I tried so hard to hide.
His fingers were warm and surprisingly gentle skimming across my cheekbone, my nose, across my eyebrows. This time I didn’t back away.
He stepped closer until my breasts were pressed against his chest. “Do you miss the touch of a man, Lady Holbrook? The scent, the strength that lies in check just beneath his skin? Do you miss the way a man can look at a woman and she knows exactly what he wants of her?”
His voice was low, just above a whisper. It felt as if he was speaking inside my mind, reading my thoughts. His fingers trailed down the column of my throat and to the neckline of my gown.
“You are a sensual woman, Lady Holbrook. Any fool can see that. And if your husband was anywhere close to competent between the sheets, I’ll wager you’ve spent many nights these last two years wishing for the return of pleasure.”
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