Lady Scandal by Larissa Lyons Page A

completion.” So very primly, so utterly proper, did she order this directive, Zeus no longer knew what to make of her. And after he’d exposed and embarrassed himself beyond what any prideful man would ever consider, did he have it in him to balk further?
    Pride may keep you company, but it won’t warm you at night. Remember that, Zeus, as you so doggedly pursue your fortune.
The prosy phrase intoned on more than one occasion by his dear mama picked such an inopportune time to rear its guidance he could do naught but heed it.
    He placed the soiled stocking on the table and bent to retrieve the letter from where it had fallen. As his gaze scanned the crisp vellum, trying to locate his place, he saw not the script inked upon the page but instead the look of wonder upon Lady Juliet’s face as she’d watched him earlier, inciting his body’s response.
    The lassitude that’d stolen over his limbs after the unintended release evaporated, changing into the renewed thrum of desire.
    “You may begin.”
    He jerked his head back to hers. “I’m unsure where I left off.”
    “‘He will set his sights’ or thereabouts.”
    He grunted. “Your memory is excellent.”
    She glowed under the modest praise. “’Tis a trait I applied myself to develop.”
    “You honed it well.”
    As if to confirm the blasted talent, she repeated, “He will set his sights…”
    Zeus coughed once into his hand, delaying the inevitable, but eventually he forced out, “
He will set his sights upon stroking you to heights of ecstasy before claiming his own. His tongue…
”
    “Yes? Your tongue…?”
    “
His tongue will surely delight you to no end. The agility with which he employs it shall—
” Zeus broke off and sliced his arm through the air, more than ready to rid himself of the damning letter once and for all. The unlit fire beckoned once again—if only it’d been burning! “Was not what I shared earlier sufficient?”
    “Are you finished with her words? No, I think not.” She answered with so much haughty reserve he wanted to shake her. Then kiss her. Show her all his “delightful” tongue could do in her mouth and everywhere else.
    From her perch upon the settee, she gave him a condescending smile. “Read the remainder, if you please, and stop dallying. How else will I know whether it contains a warning of some sort?”
    A warning? Just what was she expecting?
    “As to that,” she continued earnestly, leaving him flummoxed by the turn of her thoughts, “why have your
former
mistress write your character? Why not your current one?”
    “You’re not just innocent! You’re oblivious to the ways of men and women if you think any man is mutton-headed enough to tell his
current
lover he’s seeking another. And for your elucidation,” he all but exploded, the burden of passion assuaged just a few moments ago now returned with a vengeance and lending fire to his complaint, “I don’t
have
a current mistress. I stopped funding one years ago so I could accumulate my blunt for things more important!”
    “What manner of things, if I might ask?”
    “You…might…not.” Striving for control, he inhaled down to his toes. And almost fell over when the scent of her arousal nearly knocked him to his knees. “I seem to be the one doing all the answering. All the acceding.” But he wasn’t the only one aching for a true release, not if her increased squirming was anything to judge by. “This conversation is terribly uneven!”
    His aggravation didn’t faze her. “You
are
the one being interviewed,” she pointed out so punctiliously he wanted to throw something.
    So he did. He crushed Marianna’s asinine reference in his fist and pitched it toward the settee. It bounded off and skid across the table, into a flower-stuffed vase.
    They both stared at the rumpled parchment, neither making a move toward it.
    “There it is. Read it yourself,” he challenged. “I said I was done taking orders. It’s time I showed