Wicked Nights With a Proper Lady Read Online Free PDF

his legs. Close enough that his every breath moved the loose tendrils of hair around her temples. She looked away from his knowing gaze, realizing he understood exactly which direction her mind had wandered in.
    When the song ended, she dropped her hand from his arm and attempted to slip away. She searched the crowds around the outskirts of the room for her cousin.
    To her relief, Charlotte was still in view. Had the earlier warning that Genny would be displeased if her cousin so much as dared to wander off rooted firmly in the girl’s mind? Unfortunately she was still in the company of the marquess.
    While Genny slackened her hand in Barrington’s grip, he did not release her. She turned to face him, eyebrow raised. What was he about?
    “Our dance has concluded, my lord.” She tried to tug her hand from his, but he held tight. “You are making a scene.”
    His smile was slow and so very wicked that it felt like hot flicks of his tongue dancing erotically against her heated flesh. She didn’t like or trust that expression one bit. It was one she’d grown used to during their summer liaison and it was full of mischievous and assuredly lascivious intentions.
    “We are far from garnering anyone’s attention.”
    A waltz—Chopin, if she wasn’t mistaken—started for the next set. Couples stood ready, then bowed and curtsied. Barrington twirled her on the spot, hand above her head briefly, and then he pulled her intimately into the circle of his arms, as though they were the only ones in the room and no reproach would come from their actions.
    Two dances in a row.
    She wanted to kick him in the shin for his bold behavior. Maybe she would if she ever came upon him without an audience.
    She attempted to push away from him. “What are you doing?”
    His grip tightened.
    “Dancing.” That charming, nonchalant tone only added to her ire. “You?”
    “My duties lie elsewhere. I’m not at liberty to play whatever game it is you have devised.”
    “I assure you that you are much more than a passing amusement. Besides, everyone should be at liberty to enjoy a dance or two, princess.”
    His use of that old endearment prickled unsettlingly at her pride. That was the nickname he’d used for her so long ago. For all she knew, he called every woman princess.
    Purposefully, she stepped on his toes, giving him a wide smile as she ground the ball of her foot onto his instep.
    “I know exactly the kind of man you are. And I know firsthand what you are capable of. You’ll have to find another woman to seduce.”
    “Are you offering?” The teasing quality of his voice only irritated her further.
    “You had your chance with me, Barrington. Never again.”
    “Phrasing it that way, you don’t sound so sure.”
    “That’s where you are sadly mistaken.” She wished she could walk away, and she would—just as soon as this dance ended. Never had a man infuriated her more than Barrington.
    *   *   *
    Forget bulldog. She was a hellcat, nails unsheathed and ready for a bloody battle.
    To say he was reluctant to release her hand might very well be an understatement. He remembered Genny all too well, though he enjoyed goading her to believe otherwise when he could see clearly in her expression that she didn’t think he did. How could he ever forget a woman who had wormed her way under his skin and had made him restless whenever she was near?
    It had been summertime when he’d last seen her. Though “seen” wasn’t exactly an apt way to recall their sultry nights and sensually charged evenings.
    There had been nothing tame about her four summers ago.
    What he did recall with perfect clarity was that she’d been dressed in the height of the season’s latest fashion back then. The garb she wore now was hardly fashionable. Hardly becoming. The only thing she needed to make it complete was a mobcap.
    Even though her clothes might say she was here in a different capacity than that of finding a husband, he couldn’t