Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) by Pearl Darling Page B

her—he knew all about her. Something was wrong . He stood up to escort her to the seat.
    “What kind of a proposition?” he asked gently.
    She still made no move towards him, instead taking a deep breath that caused her body to ripple inside the dress that she wore. Bill closed his eyes and bit back an oath. Why did she of all women affect him in this way? He only wanted her hand in marriage. Nothing else.
    “I want some of your treatment,” Victoria said in a small voice as Bill approached her. She shrank back against the wall. It was as unlike Victoria as Bill had ever seen. This petite woman who normally commanded an enormous presence, with eyes of untapped ice. Now she seemed as fragile as Dresden pottery.
    “Treatment?”
    “Don’t make me say it again, Bill. Of course treatment . Don’t you think I’m embarrassed enough as it is?”
    Bill groaned as a small tear collected at the edge of Victoria’s eye. He couldn’t help himself. He took one of Victoria’s limp hands in his and drew her to him, melding her unresisting body to his. He smoothed back the rumpled curls, and with an unhesitating motion, kissed the tear as it threatened to fall. It tasted salty, but yet so sweet.
    Victoria gasped, her body still limp beneath his arm.
    As if drawn by a magnetic force, Bill swooped on her partially opened mouth and feathered it with small kisses. Victoria’s head fell backwards, exposing the milky white beneath her chin. Bill dropped his head into the turn of her jaw and inhaled.
    He brought his head back up, the bridge of his nose brushing her jaw gently. As he breathed out, Victoria shivered. She leaned back on his arm. With his free hand, he brushed lightly at her collarbone, tracing the fine angles that disappeared into her dress. She took a deep breath, the roundness of her breasts appearing momentarily at the dip in her bodice.
    As her head fell back, Bill covered her mouth with his, lightly flicking his tongue over her plump lips. It had been worth the wait. Never had he thought that she would allow him such a liberty again. He opened his eyes and drew back to stare into hers, but her eyelids were shut, and an expression of rapture smoothed the lines from her face.
    A knock at the door startled him. Victoria’s eyes flew open, and her limp body stiffened in his arms. Where her eyes had been unfocused, now they had returned to their customary ice blue. Bill unwound his arm from her waist and stepped back quietly.
    “I heard we had a visitor,” Freddie said, marching into the room still wearing the garish dressing gown, but now bearing a plate of steak and a snifter of rum. He stopped suddenly. “Oh hello, Lady Colchester.”
    “Lord Lassiter.”
    How did she do it? How could she one minute have been limp in his arms ostensibly enjoying his kisses, and the next greeting Freddie in his awful attire as if she was leaving her house for the opera?
    “I’ve brought the steak and I thought some rum might not go amiss, but I see George has already left.” Freddie took a step into the room and swung the tray around uncertainly.
    Victoria frowned. “Who’s George?” She wrinkled her nose. “And why is he eating raw steak?”
    Bill shook his head at Freddie. He didn’t want Victoria finding out about his failures. “The steak is for Brutus and the rum is for me. George is an... err... associate of ours who has just left.”
    “Brutus?” Victoria looked bewildered.
    “Bill’s wolfhound. Looks like a large rug which is probably why you didn’t see him in the hallway.”
    “But I left Ponzi in the hallway—I didn’t think you had any other dogs here,” Victoria wailed and pushed past with Freddie with little ceremony.
    Bill gulped. He hoped there was something left of the little dog.
    “Would you look at that?” Freddie stood in the doorway, hands on his hips looking at a jumble of fur in the middle of the hall.
    Bill peered of his shoulder and groaned. He was doomed. He tentatively stepped into