Read Online Good Earls Don't Lie by Michelle Willingham - Free Book Online Page B

wanted to lean forward and kiss those lips. He wanted to pull her into his lap and taste the sweetness of her skin. If he were wicked, he would peel back that wrapper and kiss a path down the thin muslin to her breasts. They would harden beneath his mouth, and he would take great pleasure in awakening her desire.
    His mouth tightened as he tried to gather up the remnants of control. “Put out your arms, and I’ll carry you back to bed.”
    He got to one knee, reaching out to her. She shied away, leaning against the door frame. “That would be most improper, and you know this, sir.”
    Iain did, but he hardly cared at all. Without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, rising to his feet. She was aghast at his gesture, but truly, he could see no reason to trouble the stone-hearted Calvert.
    “Mr. Donovan, please, you cannot—”
    She never finished her sentence before he deposited her back in bed. “Would you like the covers pulled over you?”
    “I can manage,” she gritted out. “Now go, before my servants believe that we’ve been having a passionate liaison.”
    Right now, that sounded very fine indeed. He could easily imagine resting his body upon hers, his erection nestled between her thighs. This time, he gritted his teeth hard, trying to push back the desire. “Are you wanting a passionate liaison, Lady Rose?” He kept his voice teasing, though he didn’t bother to hide his interest.
    “Don’t be silly. You’ve helped me to bed, and now you can go.”
    He drew the covers over her, well aware of her body warmth. He tucked her in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “There, now. Would you like a bedtime story?” His voice came out husky, and she glared at him.
    “Get. Out.” There was no mistaking her annoyance. “Where is my garden rake when I need it?” Instead, she gathered up one of the smaller pillows, holding it like a shield.
    But in spite of her warning, there was something else in her eyes. Not fear or loathing—but her own interest. In the dim candlelight of the room, her brown eyes were fixed upon him as if she saw nothing else. She leaned forward with the pillow, instead of cowering backward.
    He wasn’t about to refuse that invitation. “I know what it is we’re missing, a chara. A goodnight kiss.”
    Her eyes widened with shock. And yet, her hands relaxed from the pillow, while she supported her weight on her wrists. She looked nothing like a lady who was terrified of a stolen kiss. Instead, her mouth was slightly open, her cheeks flushed.
    “Absolutely not. I will scream if you even try such a thing.”
    He was tempted to lean in and taste her offering. What would it be like to feel her soft body against his own, stroking the line of her back? Would she wind her arms around his neck and open to him like a summer blossom?
    Iain moved a breath closer, watching her reaction. For a moment, she held herself in place, waiting. But instead of desire in her eyes, he saw the first trace of fear.
    Before she could protest again, he kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Lady Rose.” Then he stepped back to leave. It wasn’t the kiss he’d wanted, but at least she would not be angry with him.
    Yet, he was wrong about that. She appeared angry that he hadn’t stolen a true kiss. “You are a wretched man,” she informed him as he strode to her bedroom door. In one hand, she held the pillow.
    But he only paused and smiled. “What was that?” He raised a hand to his ear and said, “You wanted to thank me for taking you back to bed? Oh, aye, a chara, you’re very welcome, then.”
    With that, he closed the door gently behind him. A moment later, he heard a soft thunk as the pillow struck the wood.

    It was dawn, but Rose lay awake in bed, her mind spinning. It was a miracle she’d slept at all. She could not believe Mr. Donovan had taken such liberties with her—especially when he’d not been wearing a shirt. When he had bent to kiss her, she’d been well aware of the heat of