The Duke's Tattoo: A Regency Romance of Love and Revenge, Though Not in That Order Read Online Free PDF Page A

merrily.
    When the widow laughed, which she did readily, her voluptuous breasts rose like bread dough almost out of her gown’s meager restraints. Not that Ainsworth objected.
    “La! Now that I meet you in the flesh,” she enunciated coquettishly, “I’m a trifle intimidated. You’re such a large man. But have no fear, I’m sure to adjust quickly.” She laughed again and tapped his forearm with her closed fan.
    Ainsworth gave thanks to the Supreme Being for this chance to make merry with what was clearly a very merry widow. His recuperation to date had been almost completely chaste and he found himself wound very tight.
    Not much was said between them after their initial conversation. Not much was required, to Ainsworth’s relief. Lady Comstock mentioned wishing to leave; he offered to escort her to her carriage. They escaped the crush and reached the building’s entrance where he called for her barouche. How quickly, the duke wondered, could he lure the little morsel to bed? His mind raced with strategies. It might take a few days, perhaps weeks, to consummate the liaison. Her carriage arrived. As he bowed and brushed her gloved fingers with his lips, she whispered her direction. He blinked down at her. She smiled up and licked her lips.
    Oh, as soon as that?
    Soon after, Lady Comstock was about to enter her home when the duke’s carriage drew up. She dismissed the footman and paused in the doorway to await him. He leapt down and quietly bade his coachman remain at a discreet distance for his return.
    ‘La Comstock’ swept him inside, drew him up the curved staircase and into her bedchamber. She seemed as intent on bedding him as he was on bedding her. Her hunger for him was enormously gratifying and his
arbor vitae
responded in direct proportion to his gratification.
    They disrobed in near frenzy. He unhooked her gown and she wriggled it over her hips. She untied his white cravat and flung it away. She pushed his cutaway coat from his shoulders none too gently. He winced. Despite the pain, he loosened her short stays and she tossed it off to join her gown. She tore the pins from her hair and let it tumble down her back as her petticoat fell away. His waistcoat opened under her eager, busy fingers. He tugged off his linen shirt, ignoring another rasp of pain.
    The widow approached him in the candlelight wearing only a transparent chemise and his mind fogged with lust. Strangely, though, his vision blurred for a moment and he beheld another woman’s face, with stormy eyes and petal soft, full lips whispering an apology, as her cool, steady hands reached for him…
    Just as the black-haired widow reached for the bulging falls of Ainsworth’s silk knee breeches, his head cleared. He recalled the ridiculous tattoo in time to snatch up her wrists.
    “A moment,” he said smoothly.
    How dare the little, tattoo-happy harpy haunt him at a time like this!
    He turned his mind to his immediate concern. He knew not to let ‘La Comstock’ see his ludicrous tattoo. If Lady Jersey’s hints were any indication, the coquette would likely share such an entertaining revelation with everyone in her acquaintance. By tomorrow evening, he’d be the laughingstock of the
ton.
    Though it meant denying himself the sight of her bouncing, blissful release, the duke put the lady to bed and doused all the candles before stripping off the rest of his clothes. When he joined her, he pulled the bed curtains tightly closed to block even the dim hint of moonlight through the window. No one, especially this indiscreet widow, would see the unfortunate embellishment. No one but his future wife would ever glimpse that bloody ridiculous decoration, and then, only if he was certain she could be trusted.
    For this, too, the perpetrators of his blasted tattoo would pay.
    In pitch dark, Ainsworth tantalized the widow’s other senses. His shoulder injury made positioning himself on her impossible. He couldn’t hold himself up and was too much a