fascinated him. It captured his thoughts, took charge of his mind, helped him forget. Oddly, this game of seduction took his thoughts away from his hellish past even more than sex did.
He peered into the gloom as if he could make Miss Winsome materialize by sheer force of will. His heartbeat quickened as a figure walked out of the shadows toward him.
Damn. His anticipation deflated. Light from a street flare fell on the person and revealed a slightly battered beaver hat, a man’s long coat, and boots.
Grey uttered a ripe curse beneath his breath and lifted his fist to the ceiling, ready to rap on it, a signal for his coachman to drive on. It appeared his feisty, intriguing governess had lost her courage—
The thighs on the young man jiggled. Plump, shapely, those thighs strained the fabric of the breeches. This was no lad. It was Miss Winsome in men’s clothing.
Grey pushed open the door and reached out. Clasping Miss Winsome’s hand, clad in an oversized men’s glove, he helped her up the steps. His footman’s impassive stare faltered for a moment, showing surprise as her voluptuous bottom moved past him, up the steps.
“That will be all, Trim,” he growled. The servant bowed and closed the door.
Before Miss Winsome could sit down, Grey caught her by her rounded hips. “Turn around.”
When she stared at him in surprise from beneath the brim of her black beaver hat, he rotated her so her arse faced him. She wore a tailcoat of blue—in the fashion of several years ago. The tails jutted out, following the two lush gloves of her rump. “Darling, are you really trying to make people believe you’re a man?”
She tried to turn, but his firm grip prevented her. Her golden waves had been ruthlessly pinned down beneath her hat. She must have flattened her pretty tits with banding.
“I am going to a gaming hell,” she said. “Are they not solely for gentlemen?”
“No, there are females there. However, not dressed as you are.”
“You mean ladies go there?”
“Prostitutes, Miss Winsome. In very little clothing.”
“That was what I thought.” She twisted to face him, arms folded over her chest. “I am not going to go in that sort of disguise. And I must be disguised. If anyone were to recognize me, it would be disastrous for Lady Winterhaven.”
“True.” He would face the wrath of Jacinta for that. His carriage lurched off, and he held her hips so she would not fall. He was going to have to figure out how to have her as his mistress without having scandal taint Jacinta’s family. Seducing her governess into becoming his mistress would be exactly the sort of scandal that Lady X would write about.
“Could I sit down, Your Grace?”
He should allow her to do so, but having her full, rounded derriere at eye level was too much fun. “Did you raid my brother-in-law’s wardrobe? Though, considering he’s over six feet tall, I can’t see how you managed to make the stuff fit you.”
“The clothes belong to my brother.”
Her brother possessed the clothing of a gentleman. Intriguing, when she was a governess.
“Please, could I be seated, Your Grace?”
He loved it when her voice became stern. “Of course.” The carriage rounded a corner and she swayed, and he chose that moment to draw her onto his lap. Her bottom landed hard on his thighs—warm, soft, luscious. He would love to introduce her to sex from behind, with her hands and ankles bound, where he could slam against these two perfect pillows with his groin, driving his prick deep inside her.
Having to seduce a woman slowly was a new experience for him. Miss Winsome was a challenge.
He was also learning that Miss Winsome liked to challenge him. He suspected she liked challenges, period. Why else would she have taken the job with Jacinta’s children? His nephews had a demonic streak that drove nursemaids and governesses away, like he had always done. As much as he hated it, he was like his father; his nephews were like him.
He peered into the gloom as if he could make Miss Winsome materialize by sheer force of will. His heartbeat quickened as a figure walked out of the shadows toward him.
Damn. His anticipation deflated. Light from a street flare fell on the person and revealed a slightly battered beaver hat, a man’s long coat, and boots.
Grey uttered a ripe curse beneath his breath and lifted his fist to the ceiling, ready to rap on it, a signal for his coachman to drive on. It appeared his feisty, intriguing governess had lost her courage—
The thighs on the young man jiggled. Plump, shapely, those thighs strained the fabric of the breeches. This was no lad. It was Miss Winsome in men’s clothing.
Grey pushed open the door and reached out. Clasping Miss Winsome’s hand, clad in an oversized men’s glove, he helped her up the steps. His footman’s impassive stare faltered for a moment, showing surprise as her voluptuous bottom moved past him, up the steps.
“That will be all, Trim,” he growled. The servant bowed and closed the door.
Before Miss Winsome could sit down, Grey caught her by her rounded hips. “Turn around.”
When she stared at him in surprise from beneath the brim of her black beaver hat, he rotated her so her arse faced him. She wore a tailcoat of blue—in the fashion of several years ago. The tails jutted out, following the two lush gloves of her rump. “Darling, are you really trying to make people believe you’re a man?”
She tried to turn, but his firm grip prevented her. Her golden waves had been ruthlessly pinned down beneath her hat. She must have flattened her pretty tits with banding.
“I am going to a gaming hell,” she said. “Are they not solely for gentlemen?”
“No, there are females there. However, not dressed as you are.”
“You mean ladies go there?”
“Prostitutes, Miss Winsome. In very little clothing.”
“That was what I thought.” She twisted to face him, arms folded over her chest. “I am not going to go in that sort of disguise. And I must be disguised. If anyone were to recognize me, it would be disastrous for Lady Winterhaven.”
“True.” He would face the wrath of Jacinta for that. His carriage lurched off, and he held her hips so she would not fall. He was going to have to figure out how to have her as his mistress without having scandal taint Jacinta’s family. Seducing her governess into becoming his mistress would be exactly the sort of scandal that Lady X would write about.
“Could I sit down, Your Grace?”
He should allow her to do so, but having her full, rounded derriere at eye level was too much fun. “Did you raid my brother-in-law’s wardrobe? Though, considering he’s over six feet tall, I can’t see how you managed to make the stuff fit you.”
“The clothes belong to my brother.”
Her brother possessed the clothing of a gentleman. Intriguing, when she was a governess.
“Please, could I be seated, Your Grace?”
He loved it when her voice became stern. “Of course.” The carriage rounded a corner and she swayed, and he chose that moment to draw her onto his lap. Her bottom landed hard on his thighs—warm, soft, luscious. He would love to introduce her to sex from behind, with her hands and ankles bound, where he could slam against these two perfect pillows with his groin, driving his prick deep inside her.
Having to seduce a woman slowly was a new experience for him. Miss Winsome was a challenge.
He was also learning that Miss Winsome liked to challenge him. He suspected she liked challenges, period. Why else would she have taken the job with Jacinta’s children? His nephews had a demonic streak that drove nursemaids and governesses away, like he had always done. As much as he hated it, he was like his father; his nephews were like him.
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