Read Online Fantasy 01 - Secret Fantasy by Cheryl Holt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cheryl Holt
Tags: Historical
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when they were quarreling. Instead, she huffed away, but he gripped her arm and pulled her to a halt.
"Let's not play games," he said. "I detest them."
"I don't know what you mean."
"I can read it in your eyes. You're thinking, 'Why settle for the son when I could have the father?'"
She yanked away. "You are so full of yourself."
"Am I?" His gaze blatantly wandered to her bosom. "You're so hungry to be my countess. Are you presuming you're the only female who's ever contemplated such a conclusion?"
"As if I'd crave your stuffy old title! If I accepted it, I'd have to accept you, too!"
"Yes, you would." He assessed her, then gave a mocking bow. "My mistake, Miss Gray. I misinterpreted your interest. I hope you're very happy in your life with Viscount Romsey."
He started away, and she panicked, stunned that he hadn't fallen for her sly advance. How would she ever orchestrate another secret appointment with him?
Like an idiot, she called, "Wait!"
He glared at her, then strolled back. "I don't have the patience for your nonsense. What do you really want?"
"I. . . I... wouldn't be adverse to our being better acquainted."
He snorted. "You make it sound as if we're about to have tea." He leaned in, his body connecting with hers, his chest pressed to her breasts, his manly parts wedged to her thigh. "If you're serious, you'll have to entice me with something that's a tad more exciting."
She knew to what he referred, and she gulped with trepidation. "I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes, my mother explained everything."
"How terribly modern of her."
"I'm not afraid to try it," she boldly claimed, but the tremor in her voice belied her words.
"Aren't you? I've been a widower for years, so I have girls proposition me all the time."
How humiliating! Her world was so small, her opportunities so limited, that she'd imagined she was the only one to have thought of it!
"You're lying," she accused.
"I'm not. They all wish I'd pick them, but I never would. Aren't you curious as to why?" "Yes."
"Because they're silly children, who don't appreciate a man's needs."
"I could give you whatever you require." "Could you?"
He cupped her breast, cradling it and clasping the nipple. Lavinia had often taunted her with horror stories of how she'd eventually be touched like this, so Penelope was aware of what could transpire, but she hadn't anticipated it from him. Not when she scarcely knew him. Not when they'd just sneaked off for their first rendezvous.
It was evident that he was much too mature and sophisticated for her, but she wasn't certain how to extricate herself from the degrading encounter without seeming even more of a juvenile.
"Bare your breasts to me, Penelope."
She blushed bright red. "What?"
"You heard me. Do it."
"I don't want to."
"But you can't suppose I'd consider you as a bridal candidate without knowing what I'm getting. I'm a lusty fellow, and I can't abide squeamish females. I have to learn if what's hidden beneath the gown is worth having." He gestured to her chest. "Let me see."
Pondering, delaying, she gnawed on her hp, not sure if this was the best course. She was desperate to scurry off to her room like the ninny he envisioned her to be, and she was disgusted with herself for being such a coward. She'd always viewed herself as so very brave.
An important aristocrat like Kettering would expect her to behave like an adult, and if she planned to captivate him, she had to give him something to want. He'd asked to see her breasts. Where was the harm?
"Well, Penelope," he chided, "what's it to be?"
She pulled on the front of her dress, exposing herself, her nipples tingling as the breeze brushed across her skin.
He stared and stared, then finally stated, "I like big teats. Yours are very small."
Her pert bosom was her most appealing feature—or so she'd believed—so she hadn't realized her figure was lacking. Why hadn't Lavinia told her? It wasn't like her mother to ignore such a hideous flaw.
She'd
"Let's not play games," he said. "I detest them."
"I don't know what you mean."
"I can read it in your eyes. You're thinking, 'Why settle for the son when I could have the father?'"
She yanked away. "You are so full of yourself."
"Am I?" His gaze blatantly wandered to her bosom. "You're so hungry to be my countess. Are you presuming you're the only female who's ever contemplated such a conclusion?"
"As if I'd crave your stuffy old title! If I accepted it, I'd have to accept you, too!"
"Yes, you would." He assessed her, then gave a mocking bow. "My mistake, Miss Gray. I misinterpreted your interest. I hope you're very happy in your life with Viscount Romsey."
He started away, and she panicked, stunned that he hadn't fallen for her sly advance. How would she ever orchestrate another secret appointment with him?
Like an idiot, she called, "Wait!"
He glared at her, then strolled back. "I don't have the patience for your nonsense. What do you really want?"
"I. . . I... wouldn't be adverse to our being better acquainted."
He snorted. "You make it sound as if we're about to have tea." He leaned in, his body connecting with hers, his chest pressed to her breasts, his manly parts wedged to her thigh. "If you're serious, you'll have to entice me with something that's a tad more exciting."
She knew to what he referred, and she gulped with trepidation. "I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes, my mother explained everything."
"How terribly modern of her."
"I'm not afraid to try it," she boldly claimed, but the tremor in her voice belied her words.
"Aren't you? I've been a widower for years, so I have girls proposition me all the time."
How humiliating! Her world was so small, her opportunities so limited, that she'd imagined she was the only one to have thought of it!
"You're lying," she accused.
"I'm not. They all wish I'd pick them, but I never would. Aren't you curious as to why?" "Yes."
"Because they're silly children, who don't appreciate a man's needs."
"I could give you whatever you require." "Could you?"
He cupped her breast, cradling it and clasping the nipple. Lavinia had often taunted her with horror stories of how she'd eventually be touched like this, so Penelope was aware of what could transpire, but she hadn't anticipated it from him. Not when she scarcely knew him. Not when they'd just sneaked off for their first rendezvous.
It was evident that he was much too mature and sophisticated for her, but she wasn't certain how to extricate herself from the degrading encounter without seeming even more of a juvenile.
"Bare your breasts to me, Penelope."
She blushed bright red. "What?"
"You heard me. Do it."
"I don't want to."
"But you can't suppose I'd consider you as a bridal candidate without knowing what I'm getting. I'm a lusty fellow, and I can't abide squeamish females. I have to learn if what's hidden beneath the gown is worth having." He gestured to her chest. "Let me see."
Pondering, delaying, she gnawed on her hp, not sure if this was the best course. She was desperate to scurry off to her room like the ninny he envisioned her to be, and she was disgusted with herself for being such a coward. She'd always viewed herself as so very brave.
An important aristocrat like Kettering would expect her to behave like an adult, and if she planned to captivate him, she had to give him something to want. He'd asked to see her breasts. Where was the harm?
"Well, Penelope," he chided, "what's it to be?"
She pulled on the front of her dress, exposing herself, her nipples tingling as the breeze brushed across her skin.
He stared and stared, then finally stated, "I like big teats. Yours are very small."
Her pert bosom was her most appealing feature—or so she'd believed—so she hadn't realized her figure was lacking. Why hadn't Lavinia told her? It wasn't like her mother to ignore such a hideous flaw.
She'd
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