An Improper Governess: An Improper Liaisons Novella, Book 2 by Amy Rose Bennett
Authors: Amy Rose Bennett
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the mantel clock as he waited for Abigail.
Ten minutes past nine. What the deuce was keeping the girl? He was not usually so impatient but since their drawing room encounter, he could think of nothing else but having her in every conceivable way. The memory of Abigail taking him with her mouth jumped into his mind yet again and his cock twitched beneath his blue silk banyan. Sweet Jesus, it felt like he’d had a cockstand for almost the entire evening.
In truth, he’d had a cockstand for days.
He swirled the brandy in his glass and took another sip in a futile attempt to douse the fire inside him. He prayed Abigail hadn’t changed her mind.
He was just about to refill his glass when a knock sounded. Three light taps. At last.
Discarding the brandy decanter, Nicholas crossed to the door and opened it to reveal Abigail. And his pulse leapt. She’d worn her hair loose; the glossy brown tresses spilled over the plain linen shawl that she clutched tightly around her shoulders.
So lovely. Yet anyone could clearly see she was nervous. Her hazel eyes were huge, her cheeks flushed, and her words tumbled out in a breathless rush. “Sir, my apologies for being so tardy. I had to wait until Colin had finished checking the window latches and drawing all the curtains. He’s only just gone down the servants’ stairs.”
That bloody footman again. Nicholas was beginning to think he had far too many servants. And far too many good-looking footmen. He glanced over her shoulder down the length of the Long Gallery but he couldn’t see anyone, thank God. Hopefully Cruikshank wouldn’t take too long to secure a townhouse. All of this skulking around to avoid the staff would wear thin very quickly. Especially for Abigail.
But there was no point dwelling on that now. Abigail was here and he wanted her in his arms. Reaching for her hand, he gently tugged her toward him. “Well, let’s not linger on the threshold. Come here, you gorgeous girl.”
Before the door had even fully shut, he was on her, kissing her, his hands tangling in the loose tumble of her hair, running over her slender body. His tongue slipped between her lips, seeking the honeyed warmth of her mouth. Dear God, she felt and tasted like heaven.
Nicholas knew he was being a brute but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Thankfully, Abigail didn’t seem to be unnerved by his enthusiastic greeting. Her shawl fell to the floor as she slid her hands up to the nape of his neck and kissed him back with equal ardor, their tongues tangling in a passionate dance. With her lithesome body pinned between him and the door, he could easily feel she wasn’t wearing stays beneath her white muslin gown. And hot lust raced through his veins, straight to his groin.
When he at last broke the kiss to draw in some much needed air, he watched Abigail’s eyelids flutter open. And there was a smile in her eyes. “Do you really think I’m gorgeous?” she murmured.
“How could you doubt that, sweetheart?” Nicholas gently rolled his hips so his hard-as-iron cock nudged her belly. “I think my rather fierce attraction to you is fairly obvious, don’t you?”
“Hmmm. Fierce attraction.” Abigail’s hands slid beneath his robe. The light graze of her fingernails across his bare shoulders and down to his chest made his nipples tighten. “I like the sound of that. Very much. Perhaps now is the time for me to admit that I have a fierce attraction to you too.”
“I’m glad to hear it. However, now that I think on it, there is one particular thing about your appearance that doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Oh?” A small line appeared between Abigail’s finely shaped brows. “What might that be?”
“You are wearing far too many clothes, Miss Adams.” Nicholas tugged at the lacing at the back of her gown.
To his delight, Abigail’s cheeks turned a bright shade of scarlet. She dropped her gaze to his chest. “You must think me terribly gauche to be blushing like a
Ten minutes past nine. What the deuce was keeping the girl? He was not usually so impatient but since their drawing room encounter, he could think of nothing else but having her in every conceivable way. The memory of Abigail taking him with her mouth jumped into his mind yet again and his cock twitched beneath his blue silk banyan. Sweet Jesus, it felt like he’d had a cockstand for almost the entire evening.
In truth, he’d had a cockstand for days.
He swirled the brandy in his glass and took another sip in a futile attempt to douse the fire inside him. He prayed Abigail hadn’t changed her mind.
He was just about to refill his glass when a knock sounded. Three light taps. At last.
Discarding the brandy decanter, Nicholas crossed to the door and opened it to reveal Abigail. And his pulse leapt. She’d worn her hair loose; the glossy brown tresses spilled over the plain linen shawl that she clutched tightly around her shoulders.
So lovely. Yet anyone could clearly see she was nervous. Her hazel eyes were huge, her cheeks flushed, and her words tumbled out in a breathless rush. “Sir, my apologies for being so tardy. I had to wait until Colin had finished checking the window latches and drawing all the curtains. He’s only just gone down the servants’ stairs.”
That bloody footman again. Nicholas was beginning to think he had far too many servants. And far too many good-looking footmen. He glanced over her shoulder down the length of the Long Gallery but he couldn’t see anyone, thank God. Hopefully Cruikshank wouldn’t take too long to secure a townhouse. All of this skulking around to avoid the staff would wear thin very quickly. Especially for Abigail.
But there was no point dwelling on that now. Abigail was here and he wanted her in his arms. Reaching for her hand, he gently tugged her toward him. “Well, let’s not linger on the threshold. Come here, you gorgeous girl.”
Before the door had even fully shut, he was on her, kissing her, his hands tangling in the loose tumble of her hair, running over her slender body. His tongue slipped between her lips, seeking the honeyed warmth of her mouth. Dear God, she felt and tasted like heaven.
Nicholas knew he was being a brute but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Thankfully, Abigail didn’t seem to be unnerved by his enthusiastic greeting. Her shawl fell to the floor as she slid her hands up to the nape of his neck and kissed him back with equal ardor, their tongues tangling in a passionate dance. With her lithesome body pinned between him and the door, he could easily feel she wasn’t wearing stays beneath her white muslin gown. And hot lust raced through his veins, straight to his groin.
When he at last broke the kiss to draw in some much needed air, he watched Abigail’s eyelids flutter open. And there was a smile in her eyes. “Do you really think I’m gorgeous?” she murmured.
“How could you doubt that, sweetheart?” Nicholas gently rolled his hips so his hard-as-iron cock nudged her belly. “I think my rather fierce attraction to you is fairly obvious, don’t you?”
“Hmmm. Fierce attraction.” Abigail’s hands slid beneath his robe. The light graze of her fingernails across his bare shoulders and down to his chest made his nipples tighten. “I like the sound of that. Very much. Perhaps now is the time for me to admit that I have a fierce attraction to you too.”
“I’m glad to hear it. However, now that I think on it, there is one particular thing about your appearance that doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Oh?” A small line appeared between Abigail’s finely shaped brows. “What might that be?”
“You are wearing far too many clothes, Miss Adams.” Nicholas tugged at the lacing at the back of her gown.
To his delight, Abigail’s cheeks turned a bright shade of scarlet. She dropped her gaze to his chest. “You must think me terribly gauche to be blushing like a
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