They stood there, breathing hard, his forehead resting on hers.
“That’s also been on the list of things I’ve wanted to do for weeks,” he whispered.
She licked her swollen lips. “There’s a list?”
“A rather long one, considering I started it five years ago.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “All the debauched, wicked things I wanted to do to Princess Sarani Rao.”
Gracious, her body twitched with need as if she hadn’t just had the orgasm of her life. But as sanity replaced stupor, Sarani drew away and sucked in a horrified breath. It was a miracle no one had seen them or happened upon them. Though Rhystan was right. The alcove was concealed by an outcropping and the nearby plant, which had afforded them a modicum of privacy.
But still…
Sarani’s body heated, her fantasies of the duke on his knees well and truly met. Thank the heavens she hadn’t been too loud. A ferocious blush filled her cheeks, and she was glad for the darkness. Hastily, she put her bodice and skirts to rights, checking the intricate coiffure that Asha had insisted on, but thankfully that felt like it was still in place.
“We should go back inside,” she said, jostling out of the nook and past his big body. “You will undoubtedly have been missed.”
Rhystan’s hand darted out to grasp her arm and tug her back in toward him. “Sarani, wait, I—”
But whatever he’d been about to say was cut off as his eyes went wide, a frown pinching his lips. She didn’t dare look behind her, but she knew someone stood there. They’d been discovered, and while she was scandalously crushed against his chest, no less. Sarani bit her lip. At least it hadn’t been while his hand had been up her skirts. Small mercies.
“Good God, Embry,” a drunken male voice cawed loudly. “Leave some for the rest of us, will you?”
She stepped out of the duke’s embrace only to get an eyeful of Lord Littleton…of course it had to be this season’s loudest dandy. Her skin prickled as curious stares flocked to them. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Things could not possibly get worse. She was going to swoon.
A cool hand took hers, tethering her to his side. “Since when can’t a man sneak a moment with his betrothed, Littleton?” Rhystan drawled.
“Betrothed? Congratulations, good man!”
Sarani’s breath hitched as none other than the dowager duchess appeared at the balcony doors. Things could definitely get worse. Her gaze narrowed on them as if she could clearly see the cloud of sin around them. “Embry, our host has been looking for you.”
“Oy, Dragon Duchess,” Littleton brayed. “Looks like you’re about to be replaced and put in the dower house, eh?”
The stark anger on her face was brief but ugly, and the sight of it made Sarani lift her chin in angry defiance. She gripped Rhystan’s hand tighter and smiled at Littleton. “We’ve been keeping it a secret, but I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.”
* * *
Rhystan sat back in the carriage, staring at Sarani and his sister, who had not stopped chattering about her first real ball. His mother had long since departed in a froth in her own coach, leaving Sarani to find her own way back. His carriage was stuffed with two young ladies, both of whom made his blood boil for vastly different reasons.
Ravenna because her high-pitched shrieking was about to do him in, and Sarani…well…he couldn’t think about her without sporting a flagpole in his trousers. Hell, he was still half-hard after the interlude on the balcony. He’d always known she was responsive, but her soft moans…how wet she’d been…how sweetly her body had clenched around his fingers, had combined to demolish him.
His trousers instantly grew crowded. Discreetly, he attempted to adjust himself on the seat but caught Sarani’s eye anyway. Her gaze darted away, dropping to her hands clasped in her lap, a violent blush spreading on her cheeks as she fixed her attention on his sister.
“You naughty, naughty, naughty wretches,” Ravenna was saying. “I honestly cannot believe your antics. Being discovered in flagrante delicto on the balcony. Littleton would have spread it far and wide already. The man is a menace.”
Sarani buried her face behind her hands, a laugh spilling out. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why? You two are engaged.”
“Yes, but your mother wished for your brother to wait to make an announcement so she could let the other prospects down gently.”
Ravenna gave an indelicate snort. “You mean so she could push Penelope in your place.” She giggled. “Lord, her expression was priceless when Littleton was braying the news that you’re now the official winner of the Duchess Duels.”
Rhystan almost snorted at the ridiculous designation.
“As if anyone could hold a candle to you.” Ravenna rolled her eyes and threw herself back against the squabs. “And as if my brother could keep his eyes off you. He practically galloped out of the ballroom the minute you stepped out onto that balcony. It was a wonder that Mama did not see him leave and discover you earlier herself.” Her gaze sparkled with mischief and panned between them. “Is it true what Littleton said that you were doing out there?”
“We were talking,” Rhystan said.
Ravenna grinned. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? I suppose you do use your tongue for both.”
Sarani gasped with a smothered laugh, and he scowled, though the recollection of Sarani’s sweet taste made his mouth water. He suddenly wanted to kiss her again. Kiss her elsewhere. See if she was as sweet there as her lips had been.
His sister cackled. “You are a dissembler, brother.”
“Ravenna, enough,” he snapped. “That is unseemly.”
But of course his warning went unheeded. “My goodness, the gossip was afire. A duke ravaging a lady? The aloof Duke of Embry no less?” She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back her giggles. “Poor Penelope. She and Lady Windmere were dead certain she was going to receive an offer from you. Though I warned her months ago that I suspected my brother’s heart was elsewhere.”
“Was she expecting an offer?” Sarani asked.
“Penelope intimated as much,” Ravenna said. “She has already had seven offers from suitors. It’s because she’s an heiress of course. Her dowry is enormous, like her head.”
Rhystan shook his head. “She could have all the money in England, but marrying that chit will drive any man to an early grave. Any other gentleman is welcome to her, but not me.”
“Speaking of suitors,” Sarani interjected, peering at Ravenna. “Any young men take your fancy tonight? I did not spot a single silly, smelly sir in tonight’s mix.”