Dreams of Desire by Cheryl Holt Page A

about her. She was probably the most scandalous woman in the kingdom, certainly the most notorious he’d ever met personally, and he had a thousand questions he was dying to pose.
    Why was she home? What about her son? What was his opinion as to her unexpected appearance? With the whole family in residence—including Esther Middleton—Barbara had to have rattled a few cages.
    “In case you’re wondering,” she said as if she could read his mind, “my Italian paramour recently passed away. I was lonely and alone—and dead broke—so I came back.”
    “How does your son feel about your arrival?”
    “He’s a tad grumpy, but I’m wearing him down.” She laughed, and it was a sultry, sexy sound that settled low in his belly. His testicles clenched, his cock stirred, and he was stunned to catch himself assessing her in a thoroughly carnal fashion.
    It had been a while since he’d tumbled into an affair. Would he have one with Barbara Middleton? The prospect was enticing, and it would definitely make the time in Scotland speed by more swiftly.
    His thoughts were already awhirl, calculating the risks. Discovery was always a possibility, and it paid to be wary. He’d been run out of many villages by angry fathers or brothers. If he tangled with Barbara Middleton, who would care? Would anyone?
    Her son maybe, but why would he? Barbara was no innocent maiden with virtue to protect. Still, it was dangerous to cross a nobleman. They had a tendency to lash out and lash out viciously.
    “Are you bored here in Scotland?” Barbara inquired.
    “I’ve been going mad, struggling to keep myself busy.”
    “Do you hunt?”
    “No.”
    “Do you ride?”
    “Not if I don’t have to.”
    “How will you amuse yourself when all the other fellows are off shooting guns and jumping hedges?”
    “I’ve been trying to figure that out.”
    Suddenly, she stopped walking, and she pulled him around to face her. She stepped in so their torsos were pressed together. Her body was every bit as lush as he’d suspected. She wasn’t shy, being perfectly happy to let him feel her full, curvaceous breasts, while she enjoyed the feel of his raging cockstand against her hip.
    “You’re a fine masculine specimen, Mr. Dudley,” she boldly remarked.
    “Well . . . thank you. I guess.”
    “I noticed you as soon as you arrived at the party with your sister.”
    “Did you now?”
    “Yes.”
    “So our meeting wasn’t an accident. You were stalking me.”
    She winked. “I won’t deny it.”
    “To what end?” As if he didn’t know!
    “I just love a man with dark hair and eyes. I wanted to learn if you were as delicious up close as you were from across the room.”
    She laid her palm on his chest and rubbed in slow circles.
    “And now that you’ve seen me,” he queried, “what is your opinion?”
    “I’m very pleased.” She licked a tempting tongue over her bottom lip. “Are you a betting man, Mr. Dudley?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “I presumed you were. I’m betting that you and I will become very good friends.”
    Her intent clear, she raised a flirtatious brow. She planned an affair! Far be it from him to dissuade her. He usually got himself into trouble because he seduced younger women, and when he was caught, family members took umbrage.
    It had been ages since he’d consorted with an older woman, and when he did, he was the rogue who instigated the liaison. It was never the female. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a brazen invitation, and he was aroused merely from envisioning how naughty it could turn out to be.
    “I’d say,” he replied, “that you and I will be the very best of friends.”
    “Marvelous. When is your sister at home?”
    “Most days.”
    “Let me rephrase my question: When is she likely to not be at home?”
    “It’s a huge bloody house. You can sneak through the woods and enter by the rear door. Even if she’s present, she’ll never know.”
    “I could stop by