Carnal Deceptions (25 page)

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Perfecting Amanda
:

Travis led her to the sofa and settled her there. He popped the cork on the champagne and poured two glasses then crossed to the windows and released one side of each drape to dim the room. The windows were open but let in little breeze, only dust. A ceiling fan turned slowly above them, but did little to cut the heat. “I’m sorry it’s so hot. It doesn’t make it very romantic.”

Amanda agreed. Perspiration beaded on her forehead, dampened her armpits and the length of her spine. She felt sweaty and not very beautiful with her hair straggling down from her coiffure.

Sitting down next to her on the sofa, he handed her a glass of champagne. He raised his glass and touched it to hers. “To our union.”

She sipped the ice-cold fizz much too fast. It tasted sweet yet dry and felt so cool going down her parched throat.

Travis set his glass aside, loosened his tie and removed his jacket and vest. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

She watched as if from a distance, feeling too disoriented to react. The only thought that formed in her mind was how handsome he looked in just his shirtsleeves. His shirt was so clean and white she wanted to reach out and touch it—touch the man beneath it and see what his hard muscles and warm body felt like. Her fingers ached to know, finally, what a man was really like.

Moving closer to her on the settee, Travis reached to cup her face in one hand and bent his head to kiss her lips.

She felt his warm breath on her mouth and then soft wetness. Her eyes drifted closed and her lips parted in a little gasp. It wasn’t as if she’d never been kissed before, she reminded herself. Doug McCray had graduated from holding her hand to kissing her before he left for college and she never saw him again. But this felt completely different. The pressure of Travis’s lips was more assertive and considerably less sloppy than Doug’s inexperienced kisses.

Travis stroked his thumb along the side of her jaw and moved his mouth against hers. The wet tip of his tongue brushed her lips.

Amanda started and her eyes flew open. But, as he caressed and kissed her, slowly, seductively, possessively, her eyes fell shut again. She relaxed and allowed the pressure of his mouth to increase and his tongue to slide as smoothly as the brush of fingertips over her closed lips.

When he pulled away, she leaned toward his absent mouth. Her eyes opened once more and met his.

They were hooded, dark with desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

She half-smiled, embarrassed and thrilled at the compliment. On occasion Doug had said she looked pretty, but no one had ever called her beautiful. It wasn’t a word she connected with her appearance, but Travis’s intense gaze told her he was speaking the truth as he saw it.

He sat back, took another sip of champagne and pushed a hand through his dark brown hair, lifting it from his forehead. “It’s unbearably hot in here.”

She drank from her glass, too, then set it down and fanned her face with her hand. “Yes. It really is.”

“Perhaps if…” He reached out and unbuttoned the neck of her blouse. She batted his hand away, abruptly alert and shocked. “Mr. Baxter!”

He bowed his head. “I’m sorry for taking such liberty, but you’d be so much cooler in just your chemise.” He nodded at the silver basin that had held the champagne bottle. “And we have all that ice. It would cool your body.”

Her hand went to the front of her blouse, poised over her heart. She stared at the ice then at his ice-blue eyes that made her hotter instead of cooling her. Her heart beat between her legs as well as in her chest, pounding fast and erratic. “I suppose we
are
to be wed tomorrow. Maybe it would be all right…just because of the heat.” She unbuttoned the top button of her high-necked blouse. Then the second…and the third, her fingers trembling and her flesh going simultaneously hot and cold as she exposed it.

She was frightened, yes, but she also incredibly excited in a way she’d never felt before in her life. Taking off her blouse in front of her fiancé was more thrilling than the time she’d ridden Cousin Dale’s bicycle down the big hill near their house and nearly crashed at the bottom. She felt anything might happen now as she careened out of control and she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do a thing to stop it.

Amanda’s gaze never left Travis’s face while his stayed riveted on her moving fingers and the increments of flesh revealed to him.

Blood rushed through her veins and roared in her ears. She couldn’t believe her audacity in disrobing for a stranger, prospective husband or not. And yet her hands kept moving until the entire row of buttons on the front of her blouse was unfastened. She grasped the open front of the blouse and the little lilac jacket and slid both down her shoulders and off her arms.

Travis gazed at the pale swell of cleavage rising above her corset then his eyes returned to her face. “It’s a wonder you don’t pass out wearing that thing. Turn around and I’ll loosen it for you so you can breathe. The idea of corsets is ludicrous, don’t you think?”

As if in a trance, she turned her back to him. In a moment she felt his hands working at the ribbons harnessing her into the corset. Her eyes closed and she breathed in, intimately aware of his proximity and the heat of his hands moving near her back. She felt the ties loosen and her rib cage expanded as she drew a deeper breath. She caught a whiff of Travis’s cologne underlain with his own male scent. Another wave of arousal swept through her at the basic masculine odor that awakened the femininity in her.

His hands moved around her sides, removing the corset from her body. “There. That’s better. It’s much too hot a day for propriety.” Warm laughter percolated in his voice. His breath puffed against her bare shoulder as he spoke.

That was when she fully realized she was sitting in nothing but her thin chemise, her breasts unbound from the restraining corset. Her back was still to him. He hadn’t seen her yet and she felt both dread and excitement at the prospect of turning around. He would be able to see the shape of her breasts and even her nipples through the sheer fabric.

What is a lady to do when her chosen rake changes her lessons in seduction to lessons of love?

Lessons in Seduction

© 2007 Melissa Schroeder

Cicely Ware understands how society works. At the age of twenty-six, she has been around long enough to know that she is doomed to spinsterhood. But she refuses to go without ever knowing what it is like to be with a man. So she comes up with a wonderful plan to find a rake to teach her, complete with a list of possibilities. At the top of that list sits Douglas the Duke of Ethingham.

When he asks Lady Cicely to waltz, Douglas never expected her to request seduction, or that it would intrigue him quite as much. With each glance, each smile, each touch, he finds himself falling under her spell, unable to resist her lure. In her he finds a soul mate, someone as lonely as he is, who understands his pain, and will give herself to him without demands or expectations.

But as he finds himself falling in love, he also discovers a wicked plot to kill Lady Cicely. As they race to discover who wants her dead, they fall deeper in love, leaving them to decide if the lessons in seduction could lead to a lifetime of happiness.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Lessons in Seduction
:

The room that Douglas had in mind was indeed perfect for seduction, thought Cicely. A branch of candles cast dancing shadows along the walls, and a fire had been lit. The coziness of the room made her think that their hosts had left it to welcome liaisons.

The click of the door lock caused Cicely’s heart to jump a bit. She was not sure what Douglas had in mind for tonight, but a strange mixture of apprehension and anticipation wound through her.

She did not turn around as Douglas moved toward her. He stepped up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her against him. His body heat warmed her but she shivered. Not because she was cold but because he was doing absolutely delicious things with his lips to her neck.

He chuckled, his breath feathering over her skin. “Like that?”

She nodded, then bent her head to the side to allow him more access. His lips moved over her, nipping and licking. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh just behind her earlobe.

“What did you have in mind tonight, Douglas?”

He paused and slowly turned her around. “I think it is better if I surprise you.”

Pulling her close, he took her mouth in a kiss that spoke of not only passion, but possession. She twined her arms behind his head as his hands slipped around her waist and pressed her against his aroused body. When she felt his hands on her bottom, she gasped, and he used the opportunity to invade and conquer. His tongue tangled with hers, a dance of seduction on another level.

Just as the night at the theater, her body reacted on some primitive level she did not fully comprehend. Her flesh grew damp and her nipples hardened—begging to be caressed. As if he heard her thoughts, he moved from her mouth to her throat, nipping and kissing until he reached her neckline. Baring her breasts, he skimmed his mouth over them, arousing one, then the other. With each touch of his tongue to her flesh she lost another bit of her grip on reality.

In the next moment, her world turned on its axis as Douglas lifted her and placed her on the desk. Before she could understand what was happening, he was pulling away from her, getting down onto his knees in front of her.

“Douglas?”

He smiled. “Trust me, love.”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. Without taking his gaze from hers, he grabbed hold of the skirt and slowly eased it up her legs. His palms followed the silk, skimming along her thighs. Her heart was now beating out of control, her face burning with embarrassment. But she refused to look away. Instead, she held his gaze boldly. At that, his smile widened, warmed. Mesmerized by it, and the corresponding heat in his eyes, she did not realize at first he was sliding her legs apart and slipping in between them. Before she could react, he bent his head and pressed a kiss on her inner thigh.

Heat shot to molten lava within her veins. She opened her mouth to reject this action, to tell him it was not right. What she had wanted to say dissolved the moment his tongue skimmed the skin just above her stocking. Her senses thrilled, her nerve endings danced. The scrape of teeth, the swipe of his tongue, he continued his actions as he moved up her leg. Closing her eyes, she ignored the rising physical discomfort that had her wanting to stop this insanity. But somewhere, somehow, she knew it would cause more pain to stop.

He carried on with his assault until he reached the apex of her thighs. Alarm shot through her as she felt his breath on the most private part of her body. Her eyes flew open, her mouth followed to reprimand him. She was wet there, her body melting under his masterful assault, but when she gathered her wits and tried to close her legs, he ignored her. She expected him to comfort her, tell her not to worry, but he seemed transfixed. Without a word, he pressed his mouth against her.

“
Douglas!
”

He did not even flinch at her shout. Instead, he applied himself to licking, touching and kissing her intimately. Her breasts ached, her body throbbed. Cicely knew she should stop him. What he was doing was not right, could not be right. But the warmth of his mouth had her softening to his demands. He positioned his hands beneath her bottom and pulled her closer, feasting on her as if she were his last meal.

Not able to speak, not willing to ruin the delicious decadence he worked on her, she closed her eyes again. His fingers dug into her rear end as he persisted. His siege against her senses toppled every defense she had against him. Her body tightened, wet heat surged. Fire blazed a path along her flesh.

The muscles that had tensed now grew almost unbearably tighter. She shook her head, trying to grab control of her sanity, but he continued. His mouth grew more insistent as he worked, and her body responded. Nerves grew taut and she felt like she was racing toward a goal she did not know or understand. And still, he continued. His hands were moving over the globes of her rear end, her skin putty beneath his palms. Smoothly, easily, he pushed her, prodded her to the finish. Understanding that he would catch her, that he knew just what she needed, she surrendered—her body, her soul—to the pleasure that called to her.

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