by Olivia Ritch
“I haven’t noticed lines in your breeches suggesting maybe you don’t wear them,” Kathryn questioned.
“Lines in my breeches?” Michael lifted a brow.
“You know, panty lines, where the underwear shows on your backside.”
“Panty lines? On my backside?” He lifted the other brow to join the first.
“Yes, your bottom,” she exclaimed impatiently. “I am convinced you know exactly what I’m asking and are being particularly…what would you English say, obtuse on purpose!”
He allowed her to see his smile as her frustration with his intentional thickness rose.
“Yes, I am teasing…it’s just that this is a most…improper conversation. You are a lady in my…” shouldn’t say “care” to this lady, especially after so much highly improper behavior of late. “You are a guest in my home and it is highly improper for me to discuss smallclothes with you.” Can’t you tell I am already just holding to some small degree of self- control?
“I know this is highly improper but it’s… just…well…I am…”
Kathryn stammered.
Michael regarded Kathryn’s perfectly blushing cheeks and longed to feel the heat. His palms itched to touch the swells of her breasts that were peeking once again from the scoop of the modest gown and almost as peachy as her gorgeous cheeks. He remembered how she had enticed him the other night with the masterful working of her supple hands over his rigid flesh. Then he saw the same tendril of hair dancing seductively 94
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
that had come to tease him. She was moving closer.
“Would you mind …showing me?” Kathryn asked in a warm purr.
“Showing you?” He allowed the shock to register in his face.
“I know…I know…it’s highly improper. Am I embarrassing you?”
Her drawl had become even more sultry than usual and had dropped an octave in pitch.
“No,” he lied.
“Well, I am a little embarrassed but I’d still like to see.” He rose slowly hoping not to embarrass her even more with his tightly tented pants. He had never stood thus before a woman, proudly displaying his erection. He was as he had admitted to himself earlier, a prude, and unused to becoming aroused by his acquaintance. Their previous interludes had not changed that part of his nature. She seemed unfazed but wide-eyed, almost satisfied, and continued moving closer.
“You’re…” she breathed.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Oh.” She shuddered.
“I told you this conversation was highly improper,” his tone low, gravelly. Kathryn flushed deeper but closed the distance until she was within arm’s reach. He reached down to his waistband to slip a button, slowly seductively moving his fingers in front of her. When he reached for the next one, Kathryn stayed his hands. She took his right hand and rested it on her shoulder. Her skin flickered under his grasp and he moved one finger on her glowing skin. She took his left hand in hers, placed it on the other shoulder, and reached her hands to his flap.
Kathryn’s touch knocked the wind from Michael’s chest and his grasp on her shoulders tightened in response. She moved slowly over each of the remaining buttons until she had them all released. For a moment, she hesitated, then pressed on, focusing on a point down the length of his leg clearly avoiding staring at his protruding length.
Michael’s breathing was shallow and he struggled to hold the reins of his desire as Kathryn knelt before him, her posture almost…reverent.
When the temptress reached for his boot, he closed his eyes and gripped her shoulder tightly, instinctively lifting his foot. The gentle tug loosened and the boot dropped to the floor.
Kathryn released his leg after holding him fractionally longer than necessary. He took a deep breath and she grasped his remaining boot.
Kathryn’s hand followed the boot down his leg and then stroked all the way down the rock hard calf she had revealed. His stockings were no impediment to her progress and she pulled gently on the fabric of his pants. The fabric on the leg gave slowly as the pants were tightly fitted to 95
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
the solid thighs at her eye level.
With two hands, she guided the pants past his hips, over his knees and down to his ankles.
Michael’s instincts were to pounce on this woman, devour her. She sat before him like a prize catch but there was something so touching, so worshipful in her movements that he shackled his desires and waited for her next move. Sirenlike, she was controlling the game.
Kathryn was giddy. She had never seen such legs. She had already grown accustomed to Michael’s beautiful face and his form but now, with her hands on his thighs, she discovered his legs were s like steel with muscles rippling at every touch. His skin was alive and her fingers were tingling at the tips where she met his hair-dusted flesh.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, Kathryn reached for a foot and slipped the puddle of pants from his ankles. She repeated the action until the garment was free, laying his pants carefully aside and reached for his underwear. “What do you call these?”
“Drawers,” he hissed just as her hands reached the waistband.
Using both hands, she slid the lightweight fabric down the expanse of his thighs in one swift motion. She could not continue to remain this close to him without making a much more direct move on him. Drawing a deep breath, Kathryn forced herself to shackle her rampaging desires.
With the underwear at his ankles, she took the opportunity to seek out his eyes but as her gaze rose, it stopped at his erection. Stunned and wide-eyed Kathryn was riveted to his groin, on the thatch of heavy curls that were as a mane for his huge manhood. She ducked her head but curiosity got the best of her and Kathryn could only marvel at the sculptured god she had uncovered. Allowing a faint smile to cross her face, Kathryn turned her chin to him and whispered, “You are beautiful.”
His strong fingers gripped her shoulders in answer.
She moved quickly to remove the shorts from his ankles, picking them up while straightening to her full height. Then, she organized the shorts in both hands, leaned over and slipped one foot into them. His arms fell from her shoulders and he watched in stunned appreciation as she guided the shorts up her devastatingly shaped legs under her swishing skirts. As the fabric rose and disappeared from view, his skin remembered her touch and it felt the slide on skin as if he was actually joining with her.
Lifting her lids slowly, Kathryn graced him with a most angelic smile. Michael raised a questioning brow for he could not imagine what she would do next.
When she bent to gather his breeches, Michael beamed over her 96
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
head, realization dawning that she was going to put his clothes back on!
His mind struggled with indecision. He ached to touch her, pull the pins from her hair, strip the fabric from her breasts, recover his stolen smalls, penetrate, possess…but she was in his study. And he had lost his control so easily yesterday afternoon and last night.
If he took such a risk, by having her here in daylight for anyone to discover them, he could ruin what he wanted from her forever…
As her hands moved the fabric up his legs, his control quaked and he doubled as if in pain. She gasped and stopped, then he grabbed his waistband and tugged the final inches. Kathryn retrieved one boot and eased his foot into it. When he was sure she was determined to see all of his clothes righted, he reached for the other boot and slipped it on for himself, stomped it into place then straightened and worked his shirt back into his waistband.
Kathryn stood again grasped her hands in front of her and locked his gaze. “Thank you. I am much more comfortable now.” Michael’s eyes flared with desire. She drifted dreamily into the deep black pools and had to blink to be sure that she was not mistaking his stance. He wanted her.
Now.
She could not help herself then from the piece-de-resistance for this magnificen
t moment. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she trailed her own eyes to the valley of her breasts where the key lay safely hidden, and retrieved it ever so slowly. While he did not release her gaze, she still caught the flex of his hips and pulse of his erection.
She handed him the warm key a brand in his palm from her body heat and he greedily folded his long fingers around the fiery metal. “No, thank you,” he whispered. “I am greatly relieved to be rid of the offending garment.” He smiled teasingly at her and she could not help grinning back.
The man’s sharp mind was as sexy as his incredible body. Kathryn knew why women loved to read historical romances—why she loved them. These guys were out of this world. On the thought, she turned to the door and started her exit slowly, swaying her hips and sighing like a cat with her cream.
When she reached the knob, Kathryn realized her error, but she was not to worry, he had prowled behind her like a tiger slinking through the jungle. He reached around her to slip the key into place and she shuddered as his arms brushed the sides of her breasts, enclosing her in steel bands, her nose inches from the panels. He edged her back into his massive chest as he eased open the door.
Removing one arm with a gentle sweeping gesture, he showed her 97
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
the hall. She felt him inhale at the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. If she turned to look at him, she could not trust herself not to kiss him. Again. So she slipped wordlessly into the hall.
Michael sank back into the chair and closed his eyes. Just four days ago, he had been dreading returning and claiming his place among the Dukes of Asterleigh. Now an improper American for-the-love-of-Pete minx had brought him to life and made this house feel warm and welcoming, his body awakened to a desire he could never have fathomed, while a murderer threatened to strip it all away from him. His tenants already loved this Kathryn, his staff surely did, and he could not imagine his dining room or his study, nay his staircase, or his stables without her.
Even in Catherine’s and Cassandra’s borrowed clothes, she was entirely unique and special. The desolation and emptiness that had kept him away through the winter had been replaced with anticipation and longing. Desire. Kathryn was just what he needed. Getting his hands on her permanently would take a well-executed battle plan and he was just the person to help bring her to heel.
“Hallthorpe?…”
* * * *
Kathryn couldn’t catch her breath. That last sensation was still roiling through her body. His skin touching the sides of her breasts, they burned, itched even through the layers of that ridiculous bustier. Or was it a corset? Nonetheless, she felt him even through all of that. She took the stairs two at a time until she realized the staff would not approve, but think she was uncouth. Maybe that wasn’t the word but improper certainly served as a description for a woman running at breakneck speed up the stairs of a fine mansion such as this. It was all a bit of an effort to contain herself after such an unbelievable interlude. But she did have her much desired smalls!
Kathryn waited until she regained her breath before pulling the cord for Ellie.
“Yes, miss?” the efficient maid said before Kathryn could expect her even though she was beginning to learn how this servant situation worked.
“I need you to sew something for me…” Her words trailed off and she imagined just then what Michael might think of her undergarments.
“These are panties,” she announced rather more stridently that she meant to.
Ellie stared wide-eyed at the small triangle of royal blue satin Kathryn was holding. Freshly washed in the basin and still barely damp, 98
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
the panties had an almost human smell and Kathryn could tell Ellie had never seen anything like them. “Whatever are they for?” Her curiosity had won out over propriety and Ellie just had to know the answer.
“They’re drawers, women’s smalls.”
“They are small, miss.”
“Yes, I guess they are and tight too. They fit snug so all your private parts stay close, no looseness bagging between your legs and chapping.”
Ellie reached for the satin. “Miss, you want me to make more of these?”
“Yes, please. They are getting a bit ripe and I can’t go on without something.
“Ripe, miss?”
“Overly pungent…needing a good scalding clean.”
“Ah, yes, I shall see to that too. When do you need these smalls?
We’ll probably have to send for the satin.”
“I umm…borrowed a pair of the Captain’s and well, they’re good, but these are better.”
If she thought Ellie’s eyes had bugged out at the thought of making a pair of low-rise bikinis, it was the added comment that she had borrowed and was most likely right now wearing men’s drawers that had the usually unflappable Ellie stunned to silence.
“You can make yourself some too if you like. I think you could probably be very frugal with the fabric. I was thinking that they could tie on the sides if elastic was not available.”
Ellie had stowed the panties in her apron and was holding her lips very tightly shut listening to her mistress’s words and working her brain as fast as it would go. She liked this job and she really liked this lady, but she greatly feared bringing these things into the servant’s quarters. She could only imagine what they would think of her mistress. She would have to figure out how to work on them somewhere private.
99
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
Chapter Eleven
After a fitful and all-too-brief rest to get her swirling wits back together, Kathryn pulled the bell once again. The interlude with the drawers had left her needy and although she had put on a brave face with Ellie, she was aroused to the point of pain. The pressure between her legs had mounted to a throbbing ache as she played over and over the erotic sensation of stripping him, of his face savoring her every touch, of his breath on her nape at the door. Shuddering again, she braced for Ellie’s return.
* * * *
“Miss, I have another dress. This one’s for dinner.” She held in front of her the most gorgeous gown Kathryn had ever seen. It was royal blue silk, maybe a shade darker, with a low, wide neckline that would show her shoulders, and tiny sleeves. The color looked exactly like something that Cassandra would wear with her striking Snow White coloring, but Kathryn looked pretty good in blue as well. Maybe she would be a little dazzling. “Wow, it’s gorgeous. What did you have to do to make it fit me?”
“You’re a bit shorter than the Lady so I moved the seams in the bodice a bit lower.”
“So you mean I’ll be showing a bit more of my breasts?” Ellie had the sense to blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that you are amazing?”
Ellie stopped, looked down at her hands, and then straightened to her full five feet. “No miss, no one’s ever said that to me.”
“Well, you are. This sewing and hair and all the things you can do with your hands. You are a very talented woman,” Kathryn declared.
“Thank you, miss.” Ellie returned to the buttons she was undoing down the back of Kathryn’s dress, her sweet face blushing thoroughly.
“Ellie, I want you to promise me something?”
“Yes, miss?”
“Promise me that after I leave and you return home, you will take up sewing or something like it and make a profitable life for yourself.”
Her mistress’s tone had become wistful and Ellie did not care for it at all. She’d been here less than a week, but this life, this mistress and this house were what Ellie wanted, not a “profitable life” in the village.
She loved the other servants, the comfort of her quarters, having her 100
Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch
sisters come and work with her, sending money home with them, and the extra fabric her mistress gave her. And she had made friends and dared she hoped, even a beau. Leaving here was the last th
ing she wanted. How to make her mistress understand? “Miss, you aren’t leaving are you?”
She hoped her tone did not belie her cold disappointment.
“Ellie, I don’t belong here. This isn’t my home. These people have been so kind to me, taken me in when I literally had nothing… but this is their life and not mine. I feel wrong imposing, more I feel like an imposter.”
Chest thrumming, Ellie forced herself not to pull the red-gold hair too tightly…her hands trembling, she had never contradicted gentry before, but this was going to be a first. She saw how the master appreciated the mistress; the look in his eyes was the same one that she saw when she looked into Thrasher’s. She also knew what Hallthorpe had told her. This would be hard and take all their efforts to convince her to stay. It was her duty here and now to try. “Miss, I don’t know exactly how to say this, but I think you belong here. You are kind to the staff, all of them love you, say they’ve never had a real mistress before, least not one who smiled and was happy. You like the gardens and riding horses and you look great in the dresses. Then there’s Lady Cassandra…” Her words trailed off and she willed the tears not to fall.
“Oh Ellie, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think how my leaving would affect you. Would you allow me to ask Michael if you can stay, maybe there are other needs you can serve? I can’t believe that they would let you go.”
Trying mightily to stifle the next sob, Ellie turned her back to Kathryn and wiped her face on her apron. “Miss, it’s not all just about me. You belong here, I am telling you.”
“Ellie, you know I am different right?”
“Yes,” she answered warily now the tone had become even more desperate.
“I told you I’m not from here, right.”
“Yes.”
“I am not English but more than that I…I…” She could not say that.
