Engaged in Sin Read Online Free PDF Page B

several seconds for her wits to work. This was her
opportunity
. Whether it was the duke or not, she could say she believed it was, then of course she had to run to him and ensure he was all right. It gave her the perfect excuse to invade his study.
    Goodness, what if he was truly hurt? He might have drunk more brandy. He might be foxed out of his wits. She’d heard of drunken men who fell into their fireplaces and set themselves on fire. He could be in danger.
    Anne gathered up the voluminous hems of her robe and ran for the stairs.
    Warm hands clamped on his arms. Devon’s eyes shot open, but he stared up into darkness. Cannon fire had surrounded him seconds before; now there was eerie silence. He couldn’t mistake the weight pressing on his biceps. Someone was pinning him down.
    He threw all his strength against the soldier holding him. A desperate gurgle of shock came in answer. He had the advantage for a few seconds before the next thing securing him to the ground proved to be a bayonet. In one swift movement, he gripped his attacker by the arms and jerked the man up.
    His brain registered the slender arms, the surprisingly light weight.
Boy
, his mind screamed at him, guilt rising like bile, but then a voice cried, “Stop!”
    A panicked voice. A feminine one. “Stop, Your Grace! Please stop. You are hurting me.” Her terror cut through the void, sliced through the panic and the deafening pounding of his heart.
    Christ
. It was Cerise’s lush and lovely voice. It whisked away the fog in his head, shattered his confusion. He wasn’t on a battlefield; he was lying on his settee in his study. The hands touching him had been hers and not those of someone holding him down to kill him.
    On a desperate groan, he released her. He sank back onto the cushions.
    “What is wrong, Your Grace?”
    Devon sucked in more heavy breaths, trying to slow his heartbeat. “It was just a bad dream,” he managed. Sweat coated him, cooling now that he wasn’t thrashing around in his sleep. A chill washed over his bare chest.
    Her soft hand stroked his cheek. She coasted her fingertips over him tenderly. “I know something about nightmares,” she murmured gently.
    He lifted her hand from his face. Fumbling, he reachedfor the back of the chair to hoist himself up, but something planted itself on his chest. The surprise of it kept him down, and a warm weight settled across his thighs. He guessed she was straddling him. And he tensed.
    “Are you certain you don’t want to sleep in your own bed?” she whispered. “I would hate to cause you trouble and discomfort, Your Grace.”
    Trouble and discomfort
. It brought a dry laugh up from the depths of his throat, one that scratched like glass on the way out. “The reason I’m not in that bed has nothing to do with you, love, so you might as well go back there. I’m not in the mood for more lovemaking tonight.”
    “I can get you into the mood.”
    “No.” She didn’t deserve to have her windpipe crushed because he was out of his mind.
    Her weight moved, sliding lightly back down his thighs. He knew her bottom was skimming over his legs. “Go to bed, love,” he growled. “I’m accustomed to the nightmares. I get them almost every night.”
    “Every night? Heavens.”
    He hoped he had shocked her into giving up, but she whispered seductively, “I could tire you out with a climax so you could have a good night’s sleep.”
    His robe twitched open over his hips. A blast of cool night air rushed over his groin.
    He had to stop her, but a warm, wet pressure ran down his sleeping cock. Sensation shot through him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was running her tongue along his shaft. His head dropped back as the pleasure of it speared him. The soft heat of her tongue caressed his flesh, swirled over the head. Suddenly his cock went hard, proving his words wrong. His body wanted this. Yearned for this.
    “Mmmm.” Cerise gave a moan of approval, then his