Fascinated

A small smile formed on her luscious mouth. 'I want to make love to you for your kindness alone.'

'While I have quite different reasons for wanting you. Are we done?'

'You're over your pet?'

'Don't give me orders.'

'My feelings exactly.'

He chuckled and stripped off his shirt. 'We're going to have to be damned polite to each other.' Standing, he unbuttoned his trousers.

'For that, I could even be polite to Cousin Dickie.' The tempting bulge in his trousers was irresistible.

'For this?' He drew out his erection, the heavily veined penis framed by the opened placket of his trousers, the length astonishing, the gleaming crest swollen to gigantic proportions.

'Oh, my,' she gasped, the pulsing between her legs responding to the glorious sight, to the tantalizing expectation as he stripped off his trousers and silk underwear. 'Help me with my gown. I want to feel you everywhere.' Scrambling from the bed, she turned her back to him and, trembling, waited. 'Hurry, please…'

He heard the tremor in her voice and understood her urgency. He had heard the politesse as well and appreciated her understanding. Although he wasn't sure he wouldn't fuck her, orders or not, in his present mood.

'The buttons are ever so small. I apologize.'

But he had done this so many times before, he swiftly unfastened the small covered buttons and slid her green chartreuse gown from her shoulders.

As it fell to the carpet, she was already slipping her chemise off, and short moments later, she stood naked before him, breath held and hopeful. 'If you don't mind,' she whispered, her thighs clamped together to maintain the most tenuous control over her approaching orgasm. 'The sight of your- arousal… is very exciting…'

She was literally trembling for him, and such helpless need inspired a strange degree of involvement quite apart from his usual lust. It gave him pause, but not for long since fucking was a familiar standard in his life. His body responded automatically to a beautiful nude woman, his intellectual impulses secondary to his libido. 'Let's try the bed the first time,' he murmured, sliding his arm around her waist and moving forward.

It was too much-the implication that there would be more, the possessive feel of his hand on her hip, her tremulous desires-and with a gasp, she stopped halfway to the bed and climaxed in a series of tiny sobs.

He gently held her while her orgasm shuddered through her body, careful not to intrude on the heated flow, discreetly watching, waiting till the last before he lifted her into his arms and whispered, 'Sorry. '

'It's not your fault. I'm not very good at this.'

'You've been waiting too long.'

'Do you mind?'

'Not if you don't. We've all night.'

'All night?' She looked alarmed. 'I can't stay all night.'

'Why not?' He wasn't about to let her go without exploring the full range of her delights.

'My servants will worry.'

He masked his shock. 'Send them a note.'

'What will they think?'

Sitting down on the bed, he cradled her on his lap. 'Darling,' he softly said. 'They're servants. A note is more than sufficient.'

'They're really friends.'

'A note's good for friends, too. You write it and I'll ring for a messenger.' Lifting her off his lap, he placed her on the bed.

'I'm so sorry.'

Ignoring his throbbing hard-on, he said, 'It's not a problem.'

'I really am sorry,' she murmured, her gaze on his erection as he rose and walked away.

'I can wait.'

'You're ever so nice.'

'See if you feel that way in the morning,' he replied with a grin. 'I intend to keep you up all night.' Pulling open the desk drawer, he picked up a sheet of stationery and an envelope.

'Really? All night? You don't… I mean-not actually all night?'

His dark gaze held a hint of amusement as he plucked a pen from the holder. 'Actually.'

She took a deep breath. 'My goodness.'

'It should be extremely good.' Adding a bottle of ink to the items in his hand, he moved back toward the bed.

'Better than my orgasm?'

'Oh, yes. I can guarantee that.'

How comfortable he was with his nudity, she thought. 'Because you do this often and you know about women?'

'Because you fascinate and intrigue me and I feel like fucking you all night.'

'Oh, my.' Somehow the blunt phrase didn't offend, the soft promise in his words triggering a liquid heat deep inside her.

'Write,' he softly commanded, placing the supplies in her lap, grabbing a book from the bedside table for a writing surface and handing it to her. All the while she repressed her impulse to reach out and touch his arousal. Moving toward the telephone, he asked, 'Do you want one of your servants' relatives to deliver your note?'

She hesitated, not sure she wished to expose her indiscretions. On the other hand, aware of the speed with which gossip traveled below stairs, she knew her stay in the Wales's suite of the Hotel de Paris would be impossible to conceal. Better someone she knew to perhaps mitigate the worst of the gossip. 'Ask for Claude.' She began to write.

Lord Grafton spoke rapidly in flawless French, the voice of authority resonating in his soft tone, his replies to a series of questions brief yeses and nos. Hanging up the ornate receiver, he turned to her with a half smile. 'Apparently Claude has been waiting for your summons. It seems Daniel had been looking for you. Do you have a curfew?'

'Oh, Lord. How embarrassing. I suppose everyone knows.'

'I was assured your presence here would be kept in the closest confidence.'

'Who are you anyway?' Wide-eyed, she gazed at him, wondering why the staff was so accommodating.

'I spend a good deal of money at the casino.'

'You're not going to tell me.' She signed her name to the few brief sentences.

'I did tell you.'

'It really doesn't matter after tonight anyway,' she said, taking note of his evasion. 'And I do owe you a tremendous debt.'

'Is that why you're here?' One brow lifted in skeptical regard.

'Do you really care?'

He gazed at her for a moment, voluptuously nude, beautiful beyond the general standards for beauty, impatient for her first orgasm with a man. 'No.'

Her mouth quirked in a faint smile. 'I didn't think so.'

'Are you finished, then?' He nodded at the note, his momentary cynicism dismissed. 'Claude's on his way up.'

As aware as he of the reasons that had brought them there, she quickly folded the sheet of paper, slid it into the envelope and handed it to him.

Taking it to the desk, he sealed it. Then pulling a gray silk robe from the armoire, he slipped it on and walked from the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. The knock on the suite door sounded as he was counting out a number of bills guaranteed to buy silence from the staff. If Miss Greenwood lived in Monte Carlo, it would be best if her stay with him were forgotten. When he opened the door a few moments later, he conveyed his instructions to Daniel's brother with a decisiveness that couldn't be misconstrued. And money aside, the soft threat in his voice would have been sufficient to see his orders obeyed.

'Your note is being delivered,' the duke declared, reenter-ing the bedroom shortly after, 'and I was assured not a hint of your presence here would go abroad.'