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heard the laughter in her soft voice, watched as her lips
lifted, so slowly he could count the beats of his heart in the time it took for
the smile to bloom on her face.
    “Alive and quite lovely.”
    “Do you think so?”
    “Turn around,” he ordered.
    She twirled, curls lifting and soaring, picking up the light
from the candles in the wall sconces. Around and around she spun, her arms held
aloft at her sides, graceful as a ballerina.
    As she came to a stop, still smiling, Henry tugged his dressing
robe tightly closed lest she look down and see his cock standing at attention.
    “I do like my hair, my lord.”
    “Henry.”
    “Lady Joy once told me that a woman not blessed with
traditional beauty must take vain pleasure in those features that make her unique
if she is to be content in her own skin,” she said with a grin.
    “Lady Joy?”
    “My grandmother.”
    “So named because she is decidedly not?”
    Georgiana laughed softly, her eyes shining. “To be sure she
was a crabby old woman, the Dragon of Loch Canon.”
    Henry stepped forward to place his hand on her chin and tilt
her head back. “You’ve the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
    “They are my father’s eyes. And his father before him and so
on. The men in my family all have them. I am the only woman in generations to
inherit the Buchanan eyes.”
    “All the men have your eyes?” Henry asked on a chuckle.
“Even Killjoy the libertine who must carouse with exiled Englishmen?”
    “They are quite handsome on a man.”
    “They are beautiful on a woman,” he countered, snaking one
arm around her and pulling her against his chest and nearly off her feet.
    “You aren’t tired, are you?” she asked with a pretty pout.
    “Not in the least.”
    “Would you like me to put my mouth on you again?”
    “Most definitely.” He dipped down to brush his lips over
hers. “Another time. Right now I’ve a mind to make love to you.”
    “Oh.” The way she drew out the word had his cock twitching
in anticipation.
    Again he swept his lips over hers, taking time to learn
their shape, the upper that felt lusher than it looked, the lower almost too
plump for his lust to withstand.
    She tasted of his tooth powder, bringing to mind the sight
of her taking his cock deep into her mouth and swallowing the semen that had
exploded from his tight balls.
    Delicate, long-fingered hands pushed at his chest and he
lifted his head.
    “Perhaps we might have a bite to eat, my lord.”
    “I’ve already ordered a tray sent up,” he assured her. “The
servants will leave it outside the door.”
    “I see.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and Henry
groaned, his cock pulsing with the memory of that carnal mouth taking him deep.
    “We’ve likely an hour before nourishment arrives,” he
promised, certain he could bring her to climax twice, perhaps thrice before
they sat down to dine.
    “Have you any whiskey?”
    “Whiskey?”
    She nodded, her hair shimmering around her head like a halo.
    Releasing her with a laugh, Henry retreated to his sitting
room to grab the decanter and two crystal tumblers. When he returned he found
Georgiana standing at the window staring out and the darkening sky.
    “It’s quite late,” she murmured.
    “It’s barely gone seven.”
    “My servants are likely missing their dinner.” She turned to
face him, her eyes wandering over him from his toes to his mussed hair.
    “Critchley has taken them in hand. They are dining belowstairs
with my people.”
    “Well, are you going to pour me three fingers or stand there
looking obnoxiously handsome with the decanter in your hands?” she asked.
    “Obnoxiously handsome?” Henry placed his find on a heavy
table between two oversized velvet chairs of striped green and gold and poured
them each a measure.
    “It is quite vexing,” she replied, whisking the fuller
tumbler from his hand before flitting across the room to trail her free hand
over the tall, intricately carved bedpost at the