Beyond Innocence Read Online Free PDF

aplomb.
    "You are a man of hidden depths," Edward said.
    A small, dry smile acknowledged the warning in his words. "You may call upon my depths whenever you wish, Lord Greystowe. They are entirely at your disposal."
    This man is ambitious, Edward thought, but he could not tell whether that boded ill or well.
     
    CHAPTER 2
     
    Edward dropped Mowbryat his office, then ordered the coachman to drive to Lady Hargreave's. The rain continued to fall steadily but not hard, and the wheels made a soft, sticky sound as they rolled through the muddy streets. A mist wreathed the city, muffling the edges of the buildings, slowing traffic and sound until he seemed to ride through a dream. The softness of the air was that of spring, but the color could well have been winter.
    He closed his eyes and saw again the delicate slope of Miss Fairleigh's shoulders. How vulnerable were the planes of a woman's back: any woman's, but especially hers, in her mended chemise with the fragile bits of lace around the sleeves.
    Warmth crept up his thighs as his blood rushed to his center. He was hardening at the simple memory of her spine. He thought of her buttocks and ached to cup them in his hands. Shaking himself, he turned his gaze to the fog-shrouded window. Should the strength of his reaction worry him? Perhaps he ought
to put himself on guard.
    But, no. She was a pretty woman; that was all. Any man would have responded. He was glad her powers of attraction were strong. He wanted Freddie happy. He needed Freddie safe.
    They reached Regent's Park and the columned marble stretch of Cumberland Terrace, its houses strung end to end so that they looked like a Grecian temple. Edward flipped his watch open. Late teatime. But Lady Hargreave would have no visitors. She'd sent a note that morning, delicately scented, informing him she wouldn't be "at home" to anyone else. Her husband, never the possessive type, was visiting his property in Scotland . Despite the clearness of the field, Edward directed the coachman to a public stable down the street. He preferred not to park his carriage near her house. It was one thing to cuckold a man and quite another to rub his nose in it.
    He paused in the act of unfurling his umbrella, caught by a half-conscious thread of memory. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but easing the terrible knot of hunger in his groin.
    Lady Hargreave awaited in her boudoir. Well aware of how best to display her assets, she was sprawled artistically across an ice-blue chaise longue, with a novel she probably wasn't reading. Her hair, a smooth champagne blonde, spilled like silk down her slender arms. The filmy pink wrap she wore left little to the imagination. He could see the small cones of her breasts beneath it, and the fair thatch of curls that covered her mound.
    "Darling!" she cried and, in her usual languid manner, floated to the door to greet him.
    His kiss was deeper than was his custom. Rather than let her break it, he gripped her hair to hold her in place. He discovered he wanted to make her melt today; wanted to hear her cry with helpless need.
    "My," she said when he finally released her. Her hands slid down his waistcoat to fondle his growing bulge. "Someone's been thinking naughty thoughts."
    He did not answer, nor did he want her to speak. He wanted a good hard screw that didn't end for hours. He wanted oblivion and release, and Imogene was damn well going to provide it.
    Her hands were clever even through his clothes. She found the tip of his penis and gently pinched it, forcing his linen against the seep of moisture. He gasped as her nails increased the pressure.
    "Nice Eddie," she said, and returned to the petting with which she'd begun.
    But he wasn't a dog she could cosset to submission. He tore her wrapper down the front and kissed her when she dared to laugh. With inexorable force, he stepped her back to the satin chaise. To hell with adjourning to her bedchamber. He would take her here and now.
    "The