Page 74 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Benedict knew the paintings well. They were titillating, but any pleasure he’d gotten from them paled in comparison to the pleasure of watching Georgiana gape at them. She looked like a naughty schoolgirl caught hiding an erotic novel under her pillow. “Do you see something that intriguesyou, princess?”
“Oh!” Georgiana jumped, then whirled on him, her hand pressed to her chest. “For pity’s sake, you nearly scared the life out of me!”
“Only because you know you’re doing something wicked,” he drawled, leaning a hip againstthe doorframe.
“Nonsense. I’m merely looking at the, ah…” Georgiana drew herself up with a prim frown. “The art.”
“Ah, yes. The art. Forgive me, Miss Harley. I didn’t realize you were such an aesthete.” Benedict sauntered across the room to stand beside her. “Which one isyour favorite?”
“I don’t have a favorite,” she muttered, hercheeks flaming.
“No?” He gestured to the painting in front of her. “You seem preoccupied with this one. It is impressive, isn’t it? The lines, the colors, the, er…position ofthe subjects.”
“I don’t…I wasn’t…I have no opinion on the painting at all, Lord Haslemere.”
Benedict couldn’t help smiling at that. “That’s a vivid blush for a lady who has no opinion.”
She lowered her gaze to the floor, guiltilybiting her lip.
“No, that won’t do. Look at me.” Benedict caught her chin in his fingers and raised her face to his. “Arousal is nothing to be ashamedof, Georgiana.”
She glanced at the painting, then back at him, her expression hesitant. She looked as if she were unsure whether to trust him, and Benedict cursed himself. The last thing he’d meant to do was make her believe her desire was shameful.
“Shall I show you my favorite?” He took her hand and led her to the other side of the room, stopping in front of another painting. This one depicted a gentleman on his back on a settee, his lover atop him, her skirts hiked up and her legs on either side of his hips. He was gripping her waist, and her head was thrown back, her mouth open in asilent scream.
“Look at her expression.” Benedict drew closer, his lips mere inches from Georgiana’s ear. “She’s takingher pleasure.”
She said nothing, but a shiver swept her slender frame as she stared at the painting.
He turned her face back to his and stroked his thumb gently over her lower lip. “Do you understand what it means to take your pleasure, Georgiana?”
Georgiana stole a look at him from under her lashes.“I-I think so.”
Benedict smothered a groan. “Can you guess why this painting is my favorite?”
She shook her head, swallowing. Benedict caressed her throat with his thumb, fighting the urge to close his eyes at the glide of her warm skin against his fingertips. “Because it’s aboutherpleasure.”
She gazed up at him as if mesmerized, her eyes a deep, dark green—darker than he’d ever seen them, and glimmeringlike emeralds.
“A gentleman always makes certain his lover takes her pleasure first. A gentleman takes as much ofhispleasure from her release as he does from his own.” A hot, deep ache unfurled in Benedict’s lower belly as he hovered his lips over hers.
“Are…are you a gentleman, Lord Haslemere?” Georgiana’s voice was soft, hesitant, but her eyes held his, and her lips parted.
Was he? Benedict hardly knew who he was anymore. He knew only that he wanted her—yearned for her with a longing that stole his breath away. He settled his hands on her hips, squeezing gently as he urged her closer, and hislips took hers.
* * * *
“I told you to behave as agentlemandoes, Lord Haslemere. Is this how you follow my advice?”
Georgiana and Benedict sprang apart as if someone had lit a fire between then, and turned to find Madame Célestine standing in the doorway, watching them. She tutted, shaking her head. “Come, my lord. You and Mademoiselle Harley must go. Take my curricle. It won’tbe recognized.”
Georgiana gathered her wits with an effort, and shook her head in protest. “We can’t takeyour curricle.”
“Hush. You can, and you will.” Madame Célestine took Georgiana’s hands in hers. “Not to worry, Mademoiselle Harley. Yourchère amiis my old friend, and one does not turn one’s back onan old friend.”
Georgiana searched Madame’s Célestine’s blue eyes, and saw only friendliness and concern there. “You’re very kind.”
“Mais oui,of course I am.” Madame Célestine gave her a sly wink. “And in return, you will take good care of my friend,Mademoiselle?”
