Regency Scandal: Some Like It Wicked / Some Like to Shock

He carefully stepped over the silk undergarments scattered upon the floor as he silently crossed the bedchamber to stand behind her. ‘Pandora—what have you done?’ he prompted sharply as she gave a gasp at the same time as she swiftly drew back her gloved hand from arranging the things on the dressing table.

‘A sliver of glass just pierced my finger.’ Pandora kept her face averted as she now held her injured hand against her breasts, fully aware that it was the realisation of Rupert’s close proximity which had startled her, as much as the sudden pain of the glass entering her finger.

The more so, because until that moment, having been preoccupied in her own thoughts concerning all the events of this evening, she had been totally unaware of his disturbing presence standing so close behind her …

‘Let me see.’

Pandora’s back stiffened instinctively as he took a firm hold of her bare shoulders before turning her to face him, that golden head now bent as he took a gentle hold of her injured hand with the obvious intention of inspecting the damage.

‘As there is blood oozing all over your glove you’ll need to remove it,’ he advised gruffly.

Pandora, having been staring, mesmerized, at that bent golden head, now gave a startled glance down at her hand, surprised to see there was indeed blood seeping through the lace. ‘Oh, dear!’ She freed her hand to peel the glove down her arm before carefully removing it. ‘It doesn’t look so bad …’ There appeared to be only the smallest of puncture wounds in the soft pad of her index finger.

‘Let me see.’ The Duke once again took a firm grasp of her hand, frowning darkly as he looked down intently at the blood still oozing from the wound. ‘Is the glass still inside?’

‘I don’t think so, no.’ Pandora was no longer bothered quite so much by the shock of the accident as she was by having Rupert cradling her hand in his much larger one. Her breath hitched in her throat, her senses alert to every nuance of the touch of those long, slender fingers that so gently cupped her own.

‘Perhaps it would be as well if I …’ He did not finish his sentence as he raised her hand to his parted lips to take her injured finger into the moist heat of his mouth.

‘What are you doing?’ Pandora gasped at the intimacy of such an action, the cut to her finger completely forgotten as she felt the moist lap of his tongue against her flesh before he began to suck upon it gently. ‘Rupert!’ she exclaimed, her breathing becoming shallow.

Long golden lashes rose until that glittering silver gaze met and held hers even as he continued his tender ministrations.

Pandora ceased to breathe at all, totally ensnared, both by those mesmerising eyes gazing so deeply into her own, and the shocking intimacy of feeling what he was doing to her finger. It felt so … sensuous, forbidden and of such intimacy that she was helplessly aware of her breasts swelling beneath her gown, the tips hardening, and causing an aching warmth between her thighs. She felt herself totally unable to find the strength to look away from the perfectly chiselled lips around her finger.

It was, at one and the same time, the most caring, and yet erotically charged, moment of her life, that gentle suckling of her flesh causing the tips of her breasts to tingle, as if the softness of Rupert’s lips were touching her there rather than her finger. The heat increased inside her core, dampening the delicacy of her folds and making her press her trembling thighs together in a vain attempt to suppress it.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ There was a shocked gasp from across the bedchamber as Henley entered the room without warning. ‘I had no idea! I would not have— I believed his Grace to have already left …’ She trailed off awkwardly.

Rupert ignored the flustered lady’s maid as he moved so that his body shielded Pandora from the other woman’s curiosity. His fingers tightened as she would have instantly snatched her hand away, his silver gaze brooding as he continued to look down into her now-stricken one as he slowly sucked upon her injured finger once more, twice, before releasing that digit from his mouth with a soft popping noise, the whole length of that tiny finger now moist from his ministrations. ‘I don’t think there’s any glass still embedded in your finger,’ he rasped.

Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts softly rising and falling in her agitation. ‘Release me,’ she hissed softly when her attempts to pull her hand from within the strength of his proved fruitless.

Rupert’s lips curved into a mocking smile even as he placed those same lips one last time upon her injured finger before releasing her. ‘My nanny was a great believer in kissing a hurt better as a healing method.’

Kissing a hurt better?

Pandora now ached in parts of her body she had not known could ache! But not in an unpleasant way. No, what she now felt, in her breasts and between her thighs, was all too pleasurable …

Chapter Seven (#ulink_2d18cfbf-9bc9-5aa7-bb8d-95731f062a60)

Pandora swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat before answering him waspishly. ‘In that case, I believe I must be completely cured, your Grace!’ She shot him a censorious glare before turning to look across the bedchamber at her maid. ‘What is it, Henley?’

That poor lady looked completely undone by this added stress upon her already frayed nerves. ‘I came to help—that is, I thought to—Perhaps I should come back later …?’ Henley shot Rupert a nervous glance.

‘I—’

‘Do that,’ the Duke cut in haughtily.

Pandora scowled at him before answering her maid. ‘That won’t be necessary, Henley. His Grace was just leaving,’ she added pointedly.

Rupert raised lazily arrogant brows. ‘I don’t believe our present … conversation is over just yet, Pandora.’

A blush heated her cheeks, whether with embarrassment or anger she was unsure. ‘Oh, I think we’ve said all that needs to be said on the subject for one evening, your Grace.’

‘Indeed?’ he drawled.

‘Indeed.’ Her mouth firmed. ‘Henley, perhaps you would care to show his Grace out?’

‘I—’

‘I shall see myself out, thank you, Pandora.’ The ice now literally dripped from his voice.

Then do so—now! Pandora wished to say. She knew it was ungrateful of her to feel that way. Rupert had been kindness itself to her since they had entered the house and found the whole of her household in uproar. Well … perhaps he had not been merely kind to her for all of that time—as the tingling of her breasts and thighs still testified!

‘When—and if,’ the Duke continued inexorably, ‘I deem it necessary.’

When and if he deemed it necessary that he leave? He was unbelievably arrogant!

As far as she was concerned it would have been better by far if he had left some time ago! ‘Leave us, would you, Henley?’ She made the request gently, even as her flashing gaze was fixed immovably upon the arrogant idiot in front of her.

‘Yes, your Grace.’ Henley bobbed a curtsy. ‘Of course, your Grace. Would you like me to—’

‘For heaven’s sake, just go, will you?’ Rupert instructed. ‘How on earth do you stand that woman’s presence about you every day?’ he demanded the moment Henley had closed the door of the bedchamber behind her. ‘I’m sure I should be driven to madness by her nervous twitchings and hesitations!’

‘Then it’s as well you don’t have to suffer them any further,’ Pandora returned tersely. ‘And how dare you give her the impression that you and I … Imply that you and I— I believe you should leave now!’ She eyed him in utter frustration.

‘So I ascertained some minutes ago.’ He nodded unconcernedly.

‘Well?’ Pandora prompted some tense seconds later as he still gave no indication of leaving.

He raised those arrogant brows as he looked down at her with cool grey eyes. ‘There was something of import I had intended to discuss with you this evening.’

Pandora stiffened warily. ‘Oh?’

Rupert smiled ruefully as he saw that wariness. ‘Obviously, the situation we found upon our return here has deemed that now is not the right time for us to have that discussion.’

‘Obviously.’

His smile widened at the dryness of her tone. ‘In which case I will return here tomorrow and we shall have our conversation then.’

Pandora tapped a foot in exasperation. ‘You know, Rupert, you might find my mood to be far more accommodating if you were to ask rather than use such arrogant phrases as “I had intended” and “I will”!’

‘Touché.’ Rupert smiled as she turned his earlier comment back upon him. Proving her sharp intelligence once again, but also that she was not in the least the ordinary type of woman of his acquaintance, who gushed and fawned over the Duke of Stratton.

Just as the physical evidence of Pandora’s response to him a few minutes ago—a flush to her cheeks, the swelling of her breasts, the unevenness of her breathing—proved that neither was she immune to the physical intimacy fast developing between the two of them …

But would Pandora’s physical awareness of him make what Rupert wished to say to her more, or less, acceptable?