The Secret Desires of a Governess by Tiffany Clare Page B

of the forbidden. A taste of him and everything he offered her in the moment.
    Her arms rose of their own accord, curling around his neck, forcing her to stand on her toes so he could better assault her mouth and she his.
    Lord Brendall did not remain idle, either. One hand tangled beneath the chignon at the back of her head, the other spanned over her back, rubbing in small hard circles, drawing her closer despite the fact that she was already plastered as tightly as she could be against him.
    The friction of their bodies rubbing together made her all too aware of the state of arousal he was in. The state of arousal she was in. A heavy dampness flooded her core.
    Her body ached. The material of her drawers pressing intimately to her wasn’t near enough to the pressure she desperately craved. She wanted to wrap her legs around him, rub against him. Feel his body sliding over hers as he eased both their needs.
    Obviously her senses had left her the moment Lord Brendall laid his hands upon her. How far she was willing to take this was anyone’s guess. Thankfully, that question would remain unanswered, for a knock sounded at the door.
    Quick as a bucket of cold water thrown on them, she tore away from Lord Brendall. His expression was dark, his carriage tenser than it had been moments ago. She pressed her hand to her mouth; the sting of his lips and beard lingered. She didn’t want to lose that feeling. She wanted more.
    He stared at her and silently mouthed, fix your dress and hair, then waited for her to put herself to
    rights. She smoothed back her hair and tucked the loose strands back into the pins.
    “Come,” he called just as she gave a hard yank at the creases in the front of her skirts, smoothing them out.
    She put her shoulders back and held her head high as though nothing was out of place when Martha entered the study. The older woman looked her over from head to toe very quickly— had Abby not been so sensitive to her surroundings right now, she might not have noticed the strange regard, one of pure malice, as though she shouldn’t be sequestered in his lordship’s study alone— then Martha focused on Lord Brendall.
    Martha’s entry gave her the perfect opportunity to escape.
    Abby cleared her throat and dipped her head. “As we have concluded our discussion on your son’s curriculum, my lord, I’ll not bother you a second more.”
    Abby did not wait for him to respond. She did not look up to Martha, either. Could Martha guess they had really been occupied doing in the study? Certainly not. That was impossible.
    She left quickly without looking back, thinking that she must do better to avoid Lord Brendall in the future. She could not trust herself around him. What if they hadn’t been interrupted? What would have happened? How far would she have allowed their intimacies to advance?
    Once in her room, she locked the door behind her and pocketed the key. Lord Brendall would not be making any nightly visits to her room. Not that he’d be so bold as to do so. Not that she’d admit to herself she hoped he would take that kind of liberty.
    She groaned on realizing her feelings were in conflict with her hunger for something of a more carnal nature.
    She had to keep away from him. She wanted to run to him too desperately. She wanted to experience more of what she’d only had a small taste of tonight. That small piece of plea sure he’d shared with her had unfurled a beast inside her . . . one hungry for more than the meager sampling she’d gotten.
    Throwing herself down on her bed, Abby pressed her hand to her erratically beating heart and closed her eyes on a deep inhalation. She pressed her fingers to her kiss-swollen lips.
    Why did she want his kiss? Why did she want another?
    For that matter, why couldn’t she think about anything but seeing him again?
    She couldn’t focus her every thought on her employer like this. She had to forget about Lord Brendall’s mouth on hers. Forget about his body