Dueling With the Duke (Brotherhood of the Sword) by Robyn DeHart

has.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.
    “Only that the way he was eyeing your assets, he seemed ready to give you nearly anything. If that is how you always behave around him, then I’m certain he’s handed over whatever you’ve requested.”
    She shoved her hand into his chest. “You, of all people, have no right to judge me. I heard numerous rumors about you and your legendary seductions.”
    He might have been a libertine once upon a time, but that had been a long time ago. “Numerous rumors? I doubt if that is true.” He always figured his appetites ran too strong for most of the women he’d seduced, so he’d restrained himself, never asked for what he’d truly desired, and instead concentrated on the woman’s pleasure. “There was nothing legendary about my seductions.”
    “So you admit to having many conquests?”
    “I admit to nothing. We all have pasts, Lilith; misguided youth you could call it. My life is different now.
    “Ah yes, now you are celibate, now you are ‘the Priest.’”
    “Precisely.”
    “Well, women do not possess power in the same way that men do. We use what we were given, and for me, that is my body. Men find me attractive, and I can usually use that to my advantage,” she said.
    “My point was it’s ridiculous for you to flaunt yourself in such a way. And it did us no good.” But the truth was it had benefited them. They now knew that Mr. Hazleton was hiding something. They had yet to actually discover anything useful to identifying Isabel, but once they were alone, they’d be able to search the offices. But seeing her shamelessly flaunt her body to entice another man had quite honestly enraged Gabe. He wanted to wrap his hands around Hazleton’s thin throat.
    “Contrary to how you might feel about me,” she said, closing the distance between them, “most men find me charming.”
    She ran a hand down his chest. Before she reached his abdomen, he grabbed her wrist and leaned into her, pressing her against the back wall. He kept his grip tight.
    “ Charming is not a word I would use to describe you.” He crushed his mouth down on hers. There was no seduction here, only passion. A punishing passion that threatened to consume them both. His other hand came up to claim her other arm, which he pinned above their heads. She released a half whimper, half moan, and he took the opportunity to sweep his tongue in her mouth. Her tongue slid against his, and he groaned into her mouth. Desire surged through him as her hand clutched his shoulder. He could kiss her forever. Only her. He pressed his body into hers as she met his passion beat for beat.
    Her desire was heady. Her legs flexed at his sides, and while she did not wrap them around him, he had the distinct feeling she’d thought about it, that her body had wanted to envelop him, but still a modicum of her restraint remained. Nevertheless, her legs were tight at his hips.
    He pushed himself closer to her core, wanting to press his hardness against the ache he knew hid between her legs. But if he went too far, too fast, he would lose control, and he was already tempting much by this embrace. So as much as the blood pounded in his ears and his guttural instincts screamed for him to take her, he forced himself to slow down. Yet he couldn’t seem to make himself stop altogether.
    With one hand he clutched at her hip, pulling her gently toward him. All the while he kept his mouth on hers, seducing and loving her lips and tongue. Then both hands were on her hips, inching closer to the roundness of her bottom, which he could feel quite perfectly through her dress.
    God, he wanted her. And she wanted him. He let his mouth trail off hers to kiss down the thin column of her throat. Her skin was pure like honey, so soft and supple. He longed to trace his tongue over every milky inch of her. If he let it go on much longer, kissing wouldn’t be the only thing he’d do. A rustling came from outside of the storage