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.He grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the deserted corridor to an empty salon at the end.The drapes were shut and the furniture covered with sheets.There was no fire, so it was cold as ice, but they would generate their own heat.He pushed her against the wood of the door, and he fell on her like a ravenous beast.This had to be why she’d come to the manor, but if it wasn’t, he cared not.He couldn’t see her and not desire her.His tongue was in her mouth, his hands on her hips, her breasts.As he pinched her nipples, she moaned in delicious agony.He clasped her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist.In a matter of seconds, his loins were crushed to hers, the fabric of trousers and drawers all that kept them from coupling.“What are we doing?” she asked, gasping for air.“We’re racing down the road to perdition.How do you like the view?”He fumbled with his trousers and impaled himself, filling her in one, smooth thrust.She wailed—loudly—and he slapped a palm across her lips to stifle the sound.She straddled his hips, with him standing, so they were off balance and giggling like halfwits.The naughtiness of their actions, the recklessness, was incomprehensible.He flexed once, twice, and they both came in a fiery rush.He was too disordered to remember to pull out, and he spilled himself into her womb.His knees were quaking, his face buried at her nape as his pulse slowed.Finally, he drew away, and she slid down his torso until her feet touched the floor.“My, my!” She was patting her hair, straightening her clothes.“Do all adults behave like this?”“Only the ones who are mad.”“I was perfectly sane before you arrived at Stafford.”“So was I.”“In a few short days, you’ve turned me into a lunatic.”She snorted with mirth, smothering her hilarity against his shirt.He nestled her close, liking how her smaller body fit his much larger frame.“What is happening to me?” she queried.“You’ve missed having a man in your bed, and I’m happy to oblige.”“You are going to get me in so much trouble.” She clutched the lapels of his coat and shook him.“And I’m not even worried about it.”“Neither am I.”She rose on tiptoe and kissed him.“Thank you for helping Emeline,” she said.“She’s needed a lucky break.”“I had nothing to do with it.It was all my brother’s idea.”“There have been too many horror stories about him, so I won’t give him the credit.” She took a deep breath and let it out.Composing herself, she was once again the vicar’s quiet, unassuming sister.“I really must be off,” she told him.“Oscar won’t sit down to his meal without me.If I’m late, I’ll never hear the end of it.”“I could pound him bloody for you.Would you like me to?”“Don’t tempt me.” She held her wrist to her nose and sniffed.“Ah, I can smell you on my skin! How will I endure a boring dinner with my brother? I can’t pretend everything is the same.”“Don’t ponder sin or fornication or how much you enjoy the size of my—”She wagged a scolding finger.“You! Be silent.”“I can’t.Not when I’m around you.”“Try a bit harder, would you?”She opened the door a crack and peeked out.The hall was empty, and she hurried out.He followed.“I’m walking you home,” he said.“Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself.” She frowned.“And you can’t keep looking at me like that.”“Like what?”“Like you want to eat me alive.”“I do want to eat you alive.”She gazed upward and murmured, “Lord, give me the strength to control myself.”“I don’t think He intervenes in this sort of thing.”“It can’t hurt to try.”Oscar was in his study, staring out the window as the clock rang with a single chime, indicating that it was one o’clock.Josephine was an hour late.In the mornings, she made charity calls for him so that he didn’t have to bother.He hated visiting the sick, the poor, or the dying.People brought on their own troubles, and he had no sympathy for them, but she oozed compassion.Until he was wed—a future event he viewed with extreme distaste—she would serve as his hostess, so it was her duty to minister to his flock, much as it would be his wife’s after he chose a bride.But she was aware of the requirements when she left the house.She had to be back by noon so she could freshen up.Then they would dine promptly at twelve-thirty.He was a fastidious man, and he liked his routines.When his schedule was interrupted, it soured the remainder of his day.Her tardiness was disrespectful, but then, she had always been much too independent.She presumed she could act in any brazen fashion and there would be no consequences.Their father’s strict rules had not tamed her.Her husband’s severe criticisms—criticisms leveled for her own good—had not tamed her.Oscar’s firm guidance and moral instruction had not tamed her.She would blithely make note of his concerns, then carry on however she pleased.None of them had ever taken a belt to her, but maybe it was time.If she could be taught to fear the lash, she might temper her defiance.Down the lane, he observed her sauntering along, and as she neared, he realized she wasn’t alone.The earl’s brother was with her.They weren’t behaving improperly, but still, Josephine was grinning at him like a flirtatious trollop.They stopped at the gate, and Mr.Price bowed courteously.She uttered a remark that had him laughing, and he continued on.Oscar’s fury simmered to a boil.While he’d grown hungry and his meal cold, she’d been throwing herself at the earl’s brother! Had she no shame? No sense of status or class? How could she humiliate herself over the likes of Stephen Price?Mr.Price was an ungodly heathen who, with the elevation of his impious brother, had been raised up above everyone.He could now pick any woman in the world to be his bride, so he’d deem a female of Josephine’s humble position to be a trifle, a plaything for his manly lusts.Didn’t Josephine know any better?Or perhaps she welcomed his attention.Her husband had never discussed the sordid details of their marriage, but he’d often hinted at her having disgusting tendencies.Was Stephen Price drawing his sister’s base inclinations to the fore?Oscar would kill her before he’d let it happen.He shifted away from the window, and he waited silently, listening as she entered the house, as she hung her cloak and apologized to the maid for being late
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