Page 39 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

But in that moment, with Stratford holding her, Winston couldn’t stop.

She missed her father.

She turned her face down so Stratford couldn’t see as the tears continued to fall down her cheeks. She put her hands over her face, too, and Stratford held her close.

“Don’t worry about the state of my coat. My temporary almost-valet will fix it later,” he whispered.

That made her laugh, and she drew back from him, giving her eyes one last wipe with the back of her hand. “Yes, you’re very lucky indeed to have someone as patient as me.”

“I am lucky,” he promised, putting his hand on his heart. “I know that. I would have been very late for every luncheon or dinner and my brother would have been so cross. I do not regret being made a fool, either.”

That brought a blush to her cheeks, and she turned away from him. “Did you come up here for a reason?”

“Yes,” he admitted, then sighed heavily. “I know who saw us. She won’t say anything about the woman I made love to this morning.”

Winston sagged. “Good.”

He came up behind her, rubbing her arms. “It’s not the same as it was between us now.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.”

“I want more,” he said. “I feel a little desperate when I see you, and when I can’t find you, I experience fear you’ll disappear.”

She turned slowly and looked up at him, wondering if he knew she was going. “Why?”

“I…” he began. “I can’t explain it. I just know this cannot continue, but while it does, I don’t want to waste a moment with you.”

But she suddenly wished it could continue. She enjoyed dressing him and bossing him about. Then there was that lustful look in his eye right now that spoke of hunger and mischief. He looked at her, now he knew her secret, and she desperately wanted to throw caution to the wind and stay.

It was foolish to feel anything for someone she hardly knew but she might now understand those maids and their giggling obsession with the scandalous Sweet brothers. Hers was the best man she’d ever gotten to know.

A tiny thrill swept over her that she could not suppress at the pleasure she’d found in taking this position. Stratford was the first man she found attractive who had ever regarded her as a desirable woman. That eager consideration on his part was new and something she cherished.

She was not pretty in this guise, and yet, Stratford seemed to find something in her current appearance that intrigued him and drew him close. For her part, she had a great curiosity to learn what it might be.

She exhaled slowly, admitting to the one flaw in her nature that she’d never be able to escape. She craved approval. Yearned for affection after so long without. A younger brother of a duke could not keep a woman like her around, someone who dressed as a man, as his lover forever.

But luckily, Winston had never really believed in forever.

Right now was all she might ever have with him.

The desire to learn what it truly meant to be a woman, and be made love to, suddenly consumed her thoughts, and she turned around to be in his arms. There was no one better suited to teach her the intricacies of lovemaking than the one man she’d never meant to reveal her nature too.

She looked up at him now and a blush warmed her skin as she remembered the way they had been that morning. She’d no idea what to do about the unwanted emotions being around him seemed to draw out of her, other than to act on them.

Thankfully, he was just as willing.

He reached for her face again, drew her closer and gently set his lips to hers. There was once again that strange surge of energy between them, drawing her deeper into his arms and further into their kiss, without her even thinking about it. His fingers cradled her skull as he bent over her.

She opened her eyes and saw his were closed. She shut hers quickly, assuming that was the way it should be done.

After a moment, he drew back, panting. “Winston…we should not do this again.”

His kisses were so drugging that for a moment, she didn’t understand him. But when she did, she was struck by acute embarrassment and humiliation. “I’m sorry.”

He grasped her arm tightly. “I shouldn’t want to kiss you when you’re dressed like that.”

She glanced down. They were dressed much the same. They always had been. Breeches, stockings, and waistcoat. And all the usual embellishments of a gentleman, although his garments were of richer quality. She could understand his hesitation. It might seem at first like he was kissing another man even now. Which is how she would always appear to him, wearing her disguise. But he clearly enjoyed being around beautiful women wearing scandalous red dresses, and perhaps nothing at all, too.