The Lady Most Willing . . . Read Online Free PDF

not?”
    His head tilted to the side, just an inch or so, and he was peering at her face with the most remarkable expression. He was studying her, Catriona realized. No, he was memorizing her.
    Then his smile turned sheepish, and she knew . She simply knew that his was not a face that often turned sheepish. He was as befuddled by the moment as she was.
    It was amazing how much better that made her feel.
    “I don’t believe I’ve ever met a stranger I wanted to kiss,” he murmured.
    “Nor have I,” she said quietly.
    He moved his head slightly, acknowledging her comment and waiting. Waiting for . . .
    “Until now,” she whispered. Because it wouldn’t be fair not to say it.
    His hand touched her cheek, and then he was kissing her again, and for the first time in her life, Catriona considered believing in magic and fairies and all those other fey creatures. Because surely there could be no other explanation. Something was raging within her body, rushing through her veins, and she just wanted . . .
    Him.
    She wanted him in every possible way.
    Dear God above.
    With a gasp she broke away, stumbling back, away from the fire and away from the duke.
    She would have stumbled away from herself if she could have figured out how to do it.
    “Well,” she said, brushing at her skirts as if everything were normal, and she hadn’t just thrown herself at a man who probably took tea with the king. “Well,” she said again.
    “Well,” he repeated.
    She looked up sharply. Was he mocking her?
    But his eyes were warm. No, they were hot. And they made her feel things in parts of her she was quite sure she wasn’t supposed to know about until she was in her marriage bed. “Stop that,” she said.
    “Stop what?”
    “Looking at me. Like . . . like . . .”
    He smiled slowly. “Like I like you?”
    “No!”
    “Like I think you kiss very well?”
    “Oh God,” she moaned, covering her face with her hands. It was not her habit to blaspheme, but then it was not her habit to kiss a duke, and it was definitely not her habit to be thrown into a carriage and transported ten snowy miles across impassable roads.
    “I promise you,” she said, her face still in her hands, “I don’t usually do this.”
    “This I know,” he said.
    She looked up.
    He smiled again, that lazy, boyish tilt of his lips that flipped her insides upside down. “The madness of the moment. Of the entire evening. Surely we can all be forgiven uncharacteristic behavior. But I must say . . .”
    His words trailed off, and Catriona found herself holding her breath.
    “I’m honored that your moment of uncharacteristic madness was with me.”
    She backed up a step. Not because she feared him but because she feared herself. “I’m a respectable lady.”
    “I know.”
    She swallowed nervously. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t . . . ehrm . . .” She couldn’t finish the statement. He would know what she meant.
    The duke turned to face the fire, holding his hands out toward the warmth. It was as clear a signal as any that they would put their momentary insanity behind them. “I am just as susceptible to the strangeness of the situation,” he remarked. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing, either.”
    Delilah .
    Catriona fairly jumped. Back in the carriage, when he’d been intoxicated . . . He’d called her Delilah.
    He obviously did this sort of thing with her .
    “Where’s Taran?” she practically groaned.
    “Didn’t you say he likely forgot about us?”
    She sighed.
    “Oakley won’t,” the duke said.
    She turned and blinked. “I beg your pardon.”
    “Lord Oakley. He won’t forget to find us rooms. I’ve known him for years. The only thing that is making this bearable is that he must be dying inside over all this.”
    “You don’t like him?”
    “On the contrary. I’ve long considered him a friend. It’s why I enjoy his misery so much.”
    Men were very strange, Catriona decided.
    “He’s quite proper,”