In the Bed of a Duke Read Online Free PDF

wrist and moved his hand to cover her breast. Her nipple was hard and begging. There was fire in this woman. Spirit. He longed to feel her naked, to have her tighten around him.
    His fingers found the bare skin of her thighs. He traced the ribbons of her garters, which held her stockings in place, before moving upward toward a more intimate place—
    The coach rocked violently as if a wheel had come off the road. The movement brought Miss Cameron to her senses. The magic of the moment disappeared. The kiss broke just as she bucked, catching him off guard, and throwing him toward the floor.
    Phillip managed to catch himself. He moved over to the opposite seat, leaning back against the hard leather. He never lost control. Ever.
    And yet, he had with this woman.
    Miss Cameron scrambled back into her corner, pulling her skirts down with shaking hands. She appeared as stunned as he felt.
    Charlotte was not as lovely as her sister Miranda. Both sisters had blond hair and clear, ocean blue eyes. But there, similarities ended.
    Miranda was a goddess, a woman with the sort of looks that stopped a man in his tracks or would make him gloat to have her on his arm.
    This older sister was more human. She had hairthat was more the rich color of honey than the golden radiance of sunlight. Her nose was shorter than Miranda’s, too. It lacked aristocratic straightness, and yet it, along with her arched brows, gave her face character. Here was a woman who did not hold back on her thoughts or emotions.
    Her curves were less generous than what Phillip would have liked in some places and more in others, though he had no complaint. She’d felt good, womanly beneath him.
    A man could easily picture himself in bed with her.
    Phillip was doing that right now.
    Nor had he ever kissed Miranda, or even his late wife, the way he’d kissed Charlotte.
    His gaze went to her lips.
    Of all her attributes, he was attracted to her mouth the most. It was generous and inviting. He’d liked the way she’d opened to him.
    He didn’t like the way her mouth was frowning at him right now or the snap of anger in her eyes.
    She noticed the knitting needle on the floor and swooped it up to point at him with trembling fingers. “Come near me again and I shall gut you.”
    Gut you. He marveled at her choice of words and her bravery. A proper miss would be in hysterics, but not Miss Cameron. She was threatening to use her knitting needle to split him openlike a hare. She’d probably use it as a spit to roast his heart, too—and therein lay the danger.
    Her threat reminded him that there was nothing proper about any of the Cameron girls. The laws of polite society held no sway inside this coach.
    “Why are you so dramatic, Miss Cameron? I thought you and your sisters were selling yourselves to the highest bidders? Or,” he said with sudden insight, “have I been replaced in your money schemes by MacKenna?”
    Her jaw tightened, and her eyes burned bright at his challenge.
    Phillip decided that, for once, he was wrong—she was more beautiful than her sister. In spite of her mussed hair and lips still swollen by his kiss, she appeared as regal as a queen—until she reached up and with a very deliberate movement, wiped his kiss off her lips with the back of her hand.
    The insult was surprisingly effective. A shot of temper whistled through him. She’d been a willing partner, and he was tempted to kiss her again to prove it, but Phillip sensed he’d best not push his luck.
    Charlotte had been the first woman who’d made him lose the careful control he kept over himself. He told himself it was because he was tired. Under normal circumstances, she’d mean nothing to him.
    “What was that?” he asked. “Some sort of frontier slight?” He shook his head. “I hate to think what my life would have been like if I had married Miranda. Oh, put your knitting needle away. I’m done with you.”
    Heat rose to her cheeks, emphasizing their high bones and the blueness of