Teasing Your Wicked Heart

CHAPTER 11

She couldn't move. Sarah Jane knew that Lord Killsworth had backed away just in time before she became a fallen woman.

Sarah Jane couldn't even begin to explain what had happened in the... in the... she didn't even know where she was. She didn't even remember how she got there.

Every thought in her mind was invaded by the tall Lord Killsworth, the new Lord Rosenberg, and his achingly handsome face.

She stood, resting her weak body on the desk, feeling winded. Chills had dissipated and was now quickly turning into embarrassment, as he searched frantically in his desk.

A candle was lit.

And Sarah Jane decided that nothing compared to looking at Lord Killsworth in candlelight.

He exhibited the most stricken expression. Raised brows, wide eyes, and a perfectly clenched jaw—a combination of emotion that she did not understand. His neck exposed a thick expanse of skin with taut muscles. His robe slightly open, revealing a patch of hair that grew thicker as it traveled to the concealed deep V of his shirt.

Her eyes trailed down his chest towards the ropes of his robe and noticed a most unusual protrusion.

She gasped, what in heavens is that?

Lord Killsworth immediately pulled the robe tighter around his body. He swallowed loudly several times, his throat worked visibly.

She had no idea how she looked like to him. No man can view her passively thus.

Her hair flowed freely across her face and towards her spine, as the shorter lengths bounced above the gentle mounds of her chest. Her nightgown had come loose, its ribbons resting between her breasts as one shoulder bared itself under the candlelight.

Her lips were swollen from his kisses, enticingly parted that wore an expression of pure sin.

And she was looking at his erection.

Hell and damnation. Lady Sarah Jane could have seduced a saint.

"What are you doing here?" His voice came out strangled. He had no right to see her this way. No right at all.

"I... I—" she stammered.

"For Christ's sake, Sarah Jane, have you no care for your well-being at all? AT ALL?"

Startled by his ire, Sarah Jane immediately pushed away from the edge and pulled the thin material over her shoulder, tying the ribbons tightly between her breasts. "If you must know, I do care for my well-being, very much so." She tried to keep her pride.

Ashamed of her behavior and his resulting irritability, she could not bring herself to look at him again. What must he think of her, wantonly sharing kisses with a man she barely knew?

"I came down looking for a book, but I found you instead," she said with a hard swallow.

"Do you have any idea what happens between a man and a woman?" He voice was low and menacing that Sarah Jane's resolve instantly shattered into pieces.

"Do you, Lady Sarah Jane," he repeated, as if his tone wasn't enough to rattle her.

She thought for a while. Well, she was a country miss after all. How would it differ from all the ducks and horses?

Then again, she might be wrong. "I might have a clue."

"A clue." He took a long stride towards her. "You have but a measly clue, and you are here. Alone and in the dark with me."

He was angry. His sentences were short and clipped. Sarah Jane watched him as his eyes glinted against the light of the candle on his hand.

She eyed the wax suspiciously. The candle was bare and bereft of its steel plate, and as the light burned, its wax pooled thickly on its sides and was about to drip to his fingers.