Prelude to a Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

freshly. The powder had vanished, exposing a delicate nose, arched brows and the striking hazel eyes he’d never been immune to.
    By God. She was even more alluring than he remembered. To wait a whole week was going to be merciless torture. Because what he really wanted to do was—
    Radcliff clenched his jaw and dug his fingers deep into his rigid biceps. He knew better. Lingering on his need would only allow his hedonistic side to fester. He had to prove to himself before he wed that he’d mastered his obsession.
    Tightening his crossed arms against his bare chest, he tried to set whatever physical barrier he could between them. “I cannot have you here. I cannot have you in my presence until we are husband and wife.”
    She folded her arms over her full breasts, scattering a fair dusting of gunpowder, and continued to stand there before the tub. Clearly unwilling to cooperate.
    He had to get rid of her before he ended up between her thighs. Radcliff strode toward her, closing the distance between them. “You leave me no choice.”
    Her self-assured stance grew more uncertain as her eyes warily watched him approach. “I am not done with this conversation.”
    “Yes, you are.” He grabbed hold of her corseted waist and yanked her up. Hard.
    A shriek escaped her as she turned and fumbled to get away from his grasp. “I am not a carpet bag!”
    Shoving his head beneath her flailing arms and cloak, he crushed her warm softness against him and scooped her up onto his bare shoulder, his fingers digging into her curved thighs hidden beneath.
    He froze, his bare fingers lingering on her warmth and the soft feel of her gown. This was a mistake. A horrid mistake. In a torrent of solid blows, she hit his backside, making him even more aware of her body and his own. His hands gripped her more firmly, pressing her against his hard chest, even as she flailed. His cock pulsed against the wool of his trousers, taunting him to indulge. Taunting him to break his fast.
    He sucked in a breath. No. He wasn’t ready for any of this. Yanking her off and down his shoulder, he dumped her slippered feet onto the floor and scrambled back.
    Her eyes widened as her arms flailed for balance against the ledge of the tub.
    Radcliff lunged to grab on to her, but she toppled backward, cloak, skirts, stockings, slippers and all, with a huge scream, and disappeared with a splash, causing the water to rise up from within the oval tub.
    “Oh, damn. Justine—” He laughed, despite his own discomfort, and scrambled to yank her out of the tub by grabbing hold of her arms.
    She sat up, pushing his arms away. “Do not touch me!”
    He jumped back, shaking the water from his bare arms, his chest heaving and his heart pounding.
    “Pfffff!” Strands of wet, long hair were unraveling from their pins and streaming around her face and shoulders. Well defined, full breasts rose and fell, the drenched, clinging material of her gown displaying each labored breath she took. “Why…you practically tossed me in!”
    A shapely, pale limb, visible up to her rounded knee taunted him as she shifted, and her wet gown bunched up in the water, bubbling around her waist. Feeling his trousers clinging to a still solid cock, he hissed out a breath and desperately fought his need to spill seed.
    He had to leave. Now.
    Radcliff jogged straight into the bedchamber and slammed the door behind him, leaning his back against it. After a few heavy, almost-gasping breaths, he pushed himself away from the door.
    Dear God. He was still the same man, unable to control his own lewd thoughts and urges. Thoughts and urges he was certain he’d mastered whilst in seclusion. He didn’t realize his transition into making Justine a permanent part of his life was going to be this bloody difficult.
    Shakily grabbing up whatever shirt he could find, he yanked it on, leaving the ends hanging out over the front of his trousers to better hide whatever displays of arousal he could not control.