Captain Durant's Countess - By Maggie Robinson Page 0,2

and the broad back and taut buttocks of a rather spectacular specimen of manhood captured in its surface. The double image of reality and reflection made Maris swallow and stumble backward. Perhaps this was not such a good idea after all.

“Care to join us?” the specimen drawled, sending shivers right down her spine. He must have eyes in the back of his head, for he didn’t turn, just continued stroking the woman stretched upon the bed with a black velvet crop. His voice sounded as if it would taste like warm dark honey blended with the best French brandy. One raspy word from him and a woman would never leave, trapped in its liquid amber depths.

“Captain Durant?” Maris managed to squeak.

“Who’s asking?” He turned, fully available for view.

All of him.

His skin was burnished, his root swollen and pointing heavenward.

Maris closed her eyes briefly. Apart from statuary and drawings in antique manuscripts, she had never seen an entirely unclothed male, but this male seemed to be inescapably branded on the inside of her eyelids after only a few seconds. She opened her eyes and assumed a neutral expression. It wouldn’t do to have him think she was truly interested in him.

“I am Lady Kelby. You may recall receiving at least two dozen letters from me.” She struggled for haughtiness, but was afraid she’d revealed the truth. To her ears, she sounded like the desperate fool she was.

“One almost every day for the past month.” Durant tossed his crop to the floor, where it rolled beneath the tester bed. “Patsy, love, you may want to cover up in front of Lady Kelby. It seems I have finally been run to ground.”

Maris watched in disapproving silence as he strolled to the bedside table. He opened a drawer and pulled out a knife. Good Lord, he wasn’t going to attack her, was he? She had nothing to defend herself with except her hatpin. Mr. Fisher probably would be in no hurry to come to her rescue if she was to scream, but she opened her mouth anyway to do just that.

To her relief, Durant didn’t notice her panic as he sliced through the cords that bound his paramour. The woman’s bottom was raspberry-pink, the rest of her plump and snow-white. He tugged the sheet up over her, but it was he who needed covering. Surely he didn’t expect to converse with Maris in his current state?

He was naked.

And as shameless as she had feared.

“Will she take long, or shall I go, Reyn?” the woman asked.

Durant sighed. “Perhaps we can finish this tomorrow, my dear. But if you are in great need, I think I saw Blivens in the dining room.”

Patsy pouted. “But he’s not you, Reyn.”

“Any port in the storm, love. I may not have served in the navy, but that much I’m sure of.”

All cats are gray in the dark, Maris thought. But judging from Patsy’s expression, she might have said it aloud.

“Very well,” Patsy huffed. “I’ll hold you to tomorrow, though. Same time, same room. I’ll arrange it with Fisher.” Still wrapped in the sheet, the woman climbed down from the bed and gathered up her clothes.

“Excellent.” Durant kissed Patsy’s exposed shoulder and patted her rump. Maris felt a twinge of irritation at his affectionate dismissal.

“Now then,” he said after Patsy had flounced out and slammed the door behind her. “Let’s get this over with. What do you want?”

“You know perfectly well what I want! I’ve written to you enough times!”

The man—the still naked man—shrugged. “But I didn’t read them all. Refresh my memory.”

“You need to come to Kelby Hall . . . as you originally agreed. My husband is not at all well.” This was not exactly the diatribe she’d practiced delivering, and it didn’t begin to cover all the details that rattled around in her head.

He shook his head and sat down on the bed. Could he not put something over his penis? There were at least half a dozen pillows scattered all over the counterpane.

“But I don’t want to leave town right now, or any time soon. I’ve seen enough of the countryside. Since I was sixteen, I’ve traipsed all over Europe and the Americas. A dozen years of getting shot at and sleeping in ditches and mud and starving myself to serve the king. I find life in London to be very amusing.”

Maris saw how amused he still was. His rampant cock had not wilted one whit as she’d stood there haranguing him. But then, he was still