Pursued By The Viscount Read Online Free PDF Page B

placed his hand on her forearm, feeling her tension as she tried to move away. That tension slowly eased when he refused to withdraw his hand. The sooner Rachel came to accept his touch, the better. “Are your own days spent so dully?”
    “No.” She smiled. “I enjoy spending much of my time in the nursery with William,” she explained.
    Lucien could probably count on one hand the number of days his own mother had spent with him when he was a child, in or out of the nursery. Rachel obviously adored her son and enjoyed spending time with him.
    He really had misjudged her to date, and badly. “Is he here?”
    “Is who— Oh. No.” Her lashes lowered, hiding the expression in her eyes.
    “Do you think he will be?”
    “I have no idea. What on earth—”
    “They are playing a waltz.” He had recognized with satisfaction as the musicians began playing another set, giving Rachel no time to protest as he swept her into his arms and onto the dance floor. He was careful not to allow his hand to touch the bareness of her flesh revealed by the low neckline at the back of the gown.
    But he could feel her tension against his arm firmly about her waist and his hand resting low down on her spine, and the way her fingers gripped his own so tightly.
    “Try to relax into the music,” he encouraged softly.
    How could Rachel possibly relax when Brooketon was holding her so tightly and so close, twirling her so expertly about the ballroom that he had quite put their previous conversation from her mind. Which had perhaps been his intention.
    “Breathe,” he added ruefully.
    Oh dear God, how could Lucien’s proximity have caused her to forget something as natural as breathing?
    “It would not do to have you swoon in my arms,” he added teasingly. “Think how the gossips would love that.”
    Rachel was finding it hard to think at all with Brooketon so overwhelmingly close. Closer than anyone had been to her, apart from William, for many years.
    There was no threat in his proximity, she realized as she slowly began to relax and enjoy the dance. At least not in the brutish manner she so dreaded and feared.
    Brooketon’s danger was of a completely different kind, as she once again became aware of the heat of his body and the smell of his cologne. The steady strength of his hand against her spine. The firm and yet unthreatening grip of her hand in his.
    Warmth entered her cheeks as her body began to respond to his closeness, like the closed petals of a flower unfurling. That tight feeling in her breasts had returned. In arousal? The nipples certainly felt full and sensitive against her chemise. There was also an unaccustomed heat between her thighs. A dampness, which soaked uncomfortably into her drawers. Rachel could feel a throbbing down there too, one that sent tingles of pleasure pulsing through the whole of her body and increased that ache in her breasts.
    “Brooketon?” She voiced her uncertainty of these unfamiliar feelings.
    “Lucien,” he encouraged, totally aware of Rachel’s response to him. He could smell the sweet and seductive perfume of her arousal.
    As he could feel the way his own body was responding in kind. Dear God, if the two of them did not shortly remove themselves from this crowded ballroom, he feared he was in danger of leaving a damp patch on the front of his pantaloons.
    Lucien could not remember the last time he had responded this fiercely to any woman. Perhaps during his years at university, when he was young and inexperienced, but certainly not for the past fifteen years or so. The desire he felt for Rachel had him so primed, he was ready to explode.
    “I think we should take a stroll in the gallery, away from the noise and heat.” Lucien had no intention of waiting for her to answer him, but instead took a light hold of her arm to guide her through the crush of people and out into the longer picture gallery at the back of the ballroom. It was still early in the evening, so no other couples had