One Wicked Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

things. I do not know you.”
    “You may call me Lucien. And you are...?”
    “I will not use the Christian name of a man I hardly know. It’s most improper.”
    “I’ll make certain you come to know me very well then,” he murmured, his eyes lighting up with hot suggestions.
    “Perhaps after we’ve had a proper introduction.” Serena backed away anxiously. “For now, I think I should go.”
    “Not yet.” His gaze, silent, imploring, rooted her in place as forcefully as a restraining hand. “Not by half.” A frown overtook his features, slashing dark brows downward. “What if your thief is waiting for another moment alone with you? Let me at least help you to find your friends.”
    His request was simple, one she could have denied. But his point was well taken. She had no wish to suffer another attack.
    “P-perhaps you are right. Thank you.”
    Lucien nodded, his face suddenly relaxed.
    In the odd pause that followed, he produced a silver flask, ornately engraved and bejeweled. He unscrewed the cap then drew in a long swallow. Serena stared, wondering why she found this sinner so intriguing.
    When he finished, he let out a purely male sigh of pleasure that sent her thoughts—and her pulse—into turmoil. “Drink?”
    “You shouldn’t consume strong spirits. God will damn those who do,” Serena said solemnly.
    His deep laughter roared in her ears. “Sweetheart, He’s already damned me. A little nip here and there will hardly signify. But thank you for your concern, even if the sentiment is provincial.”
    There was that word, provincial. She couldn’t fathom why everyone insisted on calling her that.
    “I am not provincial,” she insisted, “merely concerned for my moral health.”
    “Which means provincial, more or less. Don’t be offended,” he rushed to say at her frown. “Think of it as a compliment. You’re not jaded, and you haven’t succumbed to the temptation to cut that gorgeous golden hair.”
    He reached toward her, fingers outstretched. Her breathing tripped. Serena knew she should stop him, but she remained immobile, transfixed by the rush and tumble of feeling he aroused within her. A strange coil of anticipation built in her belly.
    He caught tendrils of her wispy, damp tresses between his fingers. Their gazes collided. Serena felt herself drawn her into the mysterious realm of his stare.
    His eyes spoke in carnal whispers, promising pleasure. Overwhelmed by his magnetism, his presence, she stood motionless. She felt so...breathless, so drawn to this rake. He wasn’t like the ton’s other gents she had met and danced with; he was no strutting peacock. This broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped man demanded attention, and not just for his direct speech.
    Was God testing her, throwing temptation her way? If so, Serena feared she was failing—just like her mother.
    He drew a finger across her cheek. “I would give every cent in my pockets to know the thoughts behind those troubled eyes.”
    Fearing he could indeed read them, Serena gathered her strength and looked away. She spotted Melanie’s purple-turbaned head. But her friend wasn’t alone, nor was she with Lord Highbridge. She was with a stranger, and they were kissing, their mouths clinging desperately. She watched Melanie throw her arms around the man’s neck, then saw him deepen the kiss. Around them, few people appeared to notice.
    “Melanie,” she gasped.
    Lucien turned and followed her gaze. “Your friend?”
    Serena nodded slowly, numbed by shock. Clearly, something had overcome everyone tonight. Even she felt affected.
    “She seems to have the idea of it.”
    Serena turned to him, mouth agape. “They look indecent!”
    He grinned. “I’ll admit it’s not the kind of thing I do in public, but in private . . . it can be most entertaining.”
    Wide-eyed, she stared at him. That imaginary kiss arose again in her mind, his fingers touching her cheek, his lips covering hers. If he kissed her as the man was kissing