DUKE IS ALWAYS WICKED (A DUKE ALWAYS #6) BY REBECCA LEIGH – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Rebecca Leigh
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.9 MB
- Price: Free
London, 1816
Popular Gaming Establishment, The Devil’s Lair
“You seem distracted tonight, mon amour. Do I not please you?”
Benedict Kingston shook his head a bit to clear the fog that had
settled there and leaned in a bit closer to the lady sitting on his lap intending
to feather kisses along her neck to make up for his lack of attention, but
after having to push aside the many feathers she wore across the top of her
nearly nonexistent bodice, and got a whiff of her overly oppressive flowery
perfume, he decided that tonight would not be the night to take Anabella
Blanchet to his bed. He prided himself on perfection, and tonight he simply
would not be giving the lady his best.
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“Anabella, I’m afraid the rigors of the day have me over-tired. Perhaps
another time.” He traced the skin along her arm and smiled when her lips
pouted prettily. There was no doubt Anabella knew how to please a man,
and he was certain that she wouldn’t leave the Lair to go home alone. There
would be another man waiting to sample her charms, there always was.
Anabella moved to straddle him as he sat in the chair. Her bosom
bouncing nicely as she adjusted herself. She was a temptress. “Ah, mon
chou, but I can make you forget about your troubles.” Her voice was sultry,
and her moves practiced. She leaned in closer allowing him a generous
view of her breasts, which wasn’t all that difficult considering her bodice
did little to cover them in the first place. Her fingers traced over his ear as
she began untying his cravat. Her warm breath fanning over his throat as
she whispered, “Fais moi l’mour, darling.”
Under normal circumstances, he might have taken her up on her offer to
make love to her, but tonight she was becoming more of an annoyance than
an enticement. He gripped her waist with both hands and lifted her off his
lap.
“Take a bit of advice from a man who knows more about seduction than
most and what men crave in a woman, you are trying much too hard.”
He watched as her eyes narrowed into angry slits and her lips pursed in
outrage. “You are a bastard, monsieur.”
Kingston’s grin transformed into something more feral. “That’s another
thing, love. You and I both know you aren’t French. Hell, all of London
knows you are not French. Your accent is almost as bad as that little black
mole you paint on the edge of your lips.”
The sharp crack of her hand against his cheek was loud enough to be
heard in the gaming rooms upstairs, but he would not give her the
satisfaction of a reaction. “I believe you know the way out.”
Anabella’s cheeks were red and blotchy now as she stood before him
fuming with rage. “I hope you die old and alone with rats feeding upon your
cold black heart.”
Kingston rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door. “Now we can
add overly dramatic to your list of attributes, Annabella.” He opened the
door and stood to the side hoping she would leave without causing any
more unnecessary drama.
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