Night of Pleasure by Delilah Marvelle

whispered of unending rapture. She swallowed tightly, knowing the only respectable thing protecting her from his lips was a mere glove and her father standing two feet away.
    Letting his fingers drag against hers, Banfield released her hand. “Your father mentioned we would be spending the afternoon together. I’m afraid the weather will make it difficult for us to enjoy the garden. Might I interest you in a tour of the home instead followed by a quiet meal?”
    His muscled shoulders looked as if they might rip the wool of his coat if he moved the wrong way. “That would be lovely. Yes. Thank you.”
    “Excellent.” He casually turned toward her father. “Will you be joining us, Mr. Grey?”
    She prayed her father wouldn’t stay. There was so much that needed to be said. So much Banfield needed to understand. Things her father would never understand.
    Mr. Grey gestured toward the entrance door behind them. “No, thank you. I have a few errands to oversee on the other side of town.”
    A half-breath escaped her.
    “I’ll return at five o’clock.”
    Her momentary relief turned into dread. Because she didn’t need five hours to deliver what could be said in a single breath. “Five? I can assure you, an hour is all we really need.”
    “ An hour ?” he echoed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You need time to get re-acquainted. Even five hours in my estimation is overly short after all the years you two have been apart.” Her father gently patted her cheek. “Seeing all of the marriage contracts have already been signed and delivered, chaperones are no longer necessary. Why? Because I trust both the gentleman and the lady to respect each other. Enjoy the freedom.”
    Clementine cringed. Her father knew that aside from a few rebellious moments she had snatched with Nasser, she didn’t trust men or their passions. Not anymore than society did. And she most certainly knew what sort of passions Derek was capable of. He’d proven that within the first five minutes of them knowing each other.
    Mr. Grey made his way toward the door which a footman opened. Glancing back at her with a wink, he strode out toward their carriage waiting beneath the portico. The footman closed the door and positioned himself on the far wall, leaving the foyer in complete silence.
    Her throat tightened. She highly doubted the next five hours were going to be pleasant.

Letting out a refined breath, Clementine turned toward Banfield, hoping she was capable of surviving whatever happened next. Doing her best not to fidget, she politely offered, “I can only apologize for my father. Apparently, he doesn’t realize a tour of any sized house won’t take five hours.”
    Banfield’s mouth quirked, his dark eyes brightening. “I don’t mind.” He studied her face, unhurriedly and intently. “My butler will take your bonnet and gloves,” he added in a low tone.
    Her body felt heavy and warm. Whilst there was nothing indecent about removing one’s bonnet and gloves before a man, for she did it all the time whenever making calls, his gruff tone might as well have asked her to remove her gown and corset. “Thank you.”
    She turned toward the waiting butler and fumbled to unravel the satin ribbon at her chin, painfully aware Banfield was watching her. A warm tingle uprooted the pit of her stomach, and although she tried to slow the rapid beat of her heart, it was of no use. She was as nervous now around him as she had been when she was fourteen. It was stupid. She had always hated the way he made her feel: breathless, out of control, and on the verge of bursting into flames.
    Removing her gloves, she handed both to the elderly male servant. Sensing that Banfield was still watching her, she glanced toward him.
    He swept his gaze over her pinned hair and smiled. “There is no need to linger here in the entrance hall. The main rooms are upstairs.” He held out a hand toward the direction he wanted them to go and strode past. “Please follow