Read The Lady Always Wins for Free Online

trunk of the oak. Bark met her back; he leaned the weight of his body against her and then kissed his way down her jaw. His fingers, cupping her breast, made little circles. And his form… God, he was a delight, slim and yet muscular. The hard ridge of his erection pushed against her.
    “God, Ginny,” he growled against her skin.
    She put her hand on his chest and pushed him away—only an inch, but enough to let the cool air flow over her skin, enough to take a deep breath, to try to cleanse her whirling thoughts.
    “Don’t even argue,” he said. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”
    She could scarcely think. She was certain—almost certain—that his claims of stomping on her heart were pure balderdash. He had really only ever seemed brash and arrogant on the outside. But she knew him. The more he swaggered, the more uncertain he was feeling.
    And the truth was, he had the power to stomp on her heart even if she
didn’t
take him to bed. She’d proven that to herself seven years ago.
    Maybe she
was
mad. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe it was simply that she couldn’t imagine that a man who had made cuff links in her honor four years past would ever hurt her. She gave him her most brilliant smile. “If you have just forty-eight hours to seduce me, we had better spend as much time as we can in bed.”

Chapter Four

    B Y THE TIME S IMON crashed through the front door of her house, he was wild with desire.
    He didn’t care who saw them—he only knew he wanted her, and he was finally going to have her.
    But she conducted him into the front parlor where they’d had tea before. Somehow, she managed to look untouched by lust. Only the sparkle in her eyes and the rough redness of her lips where he’d kissed her gave any hint that she had said they would go to bed.
    Would it be churlish to demand that they make their way there now?
    She walked to the window and looked out at the tulips. Half the field was denuded now; another wagon was being driven away. She shook her head sadly.
    He should have comforted her. He should have reassured her. But truth was, he had nothing to reassure her with. Instead he crossed to the door behind her and locked it.
    She must have heard the sound of the key turning, because she smiled. She didn’t protest or turn to him. She drew the curtains, hiding the disappearing flowers behind folds of crepe. And then, slowly, she turned to look at him.
    They were both still fully clothed, and yet he felt flushed and exposed.
Do this right,
his better self admonished. But the rest of his body thrummed in an insistent counterpoint:
Do this now.
    He closed the distance between them, but she touched him first—setting her hands on his face and pulling him down to her. If there was any more powerful aphrodisiac than the fact that she wanted him, it was her scent, that subtle indefinable sweetness that marked her out among all other women. He kissed her, hard.
    Her mouth opened to his with a practiced fluidity. Their kisses had stopped being just kisses; they were promises now, initial payments made on expectation. Her lips bruised his. And her hands on his jaw unleashed a deep-seated hunger: not just for sex, but for her. He felt as if he’d been famished all his life, and had been dropped in the midst of a feast. He wasn’t sure what to try first.
    And he wasn’t alone. She undid the buttons of his coat, and then slid her hands around his waist.
    It had never been like this when they were younger. He’d wanted her, of course, but her innocence had made her shy, and his had made him awkward. More awkward, at any rate.
    There was no shyness in her now. She knew what her body was for, and what a man might do for her. When he slid his hand up her ribs, she sighed and turned her head. When his palm cupped her breast, she exhaled and kissed him harder.
    She melted into him as he slipped his thumb beneath her neckline, sliding between her skin and her corset. He found the hardened tip of her nipple, and