WANTON by Cheryl Holt Page B

closer to her.
    His arm tightened around her waist, and as he drew her nearer, she gasped with surprise but didn’t push him away or resist the embrace. She shifted so her breasts were more firmly crushed to his chest and, for a brief second, he caught himself musing that it was the most wonderful experience of his life.
    Then the door slammed open.
    “Mr. Drake! Stop it at once!”
    Like a pair of guilty adolescents, they jumped apart. He glanced over to see Barbara Middleton sweep into the room.
    “Amelia, darling,” she gushed, “when the butler informed me that Mr. Drake was here, I ran right up.”
    “He asked to visit me”—Miss Hubbard was unabashed and shameless—“but I’d just finished bathing. I didn’t think you’d mind if I invited him in.”
    “Oh, I don’t mind you having a male caller in your boudoir,” Mrs. Middleton breezily said, “but it shouldn’t be him . You have so many other, better options these days.”
    Lucas was taken aback by the rude remark. His family wasn’t the most exalted, but his father was a member of the peerage. His brother would ultimately be an earl. It wasn’t as if Lucas cleaned chimneys for a living.
    “It shouldn’t be me ?” he huffed.
    “No. You’re not what she requires in even the smallest way.”
    “What have you—in your infinite wisdom—decided she needs?”
    “That’s not really any of your business, is it?” Mrs. Middleton marched over and boldly shook his hand. “I’m Barbara Middleton.”
    Lucas was treated to his first up-close glimpse of her. She was very beautiful, very exotic, and he could certainly understand why she’d ruined men all over Europe for several decades. She had to be fifty and still looked grand, so he could imagine how she must have been at twenty. The poor oafs on the Continent hadn’t stood a chance.
    “I know who you are, Mrs. Middleton,” he grumbled.
    “My reputation precedes me? I’m delighted to hear it.”
    “Yes, your reputation absolutely precedes you,” he scolded.
    “I’m shocked to note that it bothers you. You have a reputation yourself.”
    “I can’t deny it.”
    “If my notoriety doesn’t bother my son, Mr. Drake, I hardly see how it should bother you. Now then”—she gestured to the door—“I must ask you to go. You can speak to Amelia when she’s in a more suitable condition to receive you.”
    Lucas dawdled, eager to hurl a scathing comment, eager to remain with Miss Hubbard to continue what they’d started. He also found himself—with his having met Mrs. Middleton—wanting to become acquainted. No doubt she’d be fascinating.
    But, obviously, he was being tossed out. He could fuss and refuse, or he could pretend he was happy to depart.
    He glared at Miss Hubbard. “I’m sending my father over next. Maybe he can talk some sense into you.”
    “You’d send George to my home?” Mrs. Middleton snapped. “Don’t you dare. I don’t like that old boor anymore than you do.”
    Lucas was never one to defend his father, but in this instance, it almost seemed that he should. In the end, he didn’t. He bit down a thousand caustic retorts, spun on his heel, and left.

CHAPTER SIX
    “What did you think?”
    “Oh, my goodness.”
    Amelia patted her hot cheeks, struggling to slow her racing pulse.
    She was fully dressed, her hair pulled into a tidy chignon, the silk robe tucked away in a drawer. She and Barbara were in Barbara’s morning parlor, dissecting the meeting with Mr. Drake.
    “You did very well, darling,” Barbara gushed.
    “Are you sure? I’m clueless as to flirtation, and I have no idea how to play the coquette.”
    Barbara laughed. “Somewhere in your past, you must have a slattern’s tainted blood running through your veins. You have a knack for this sort of thing.”
    “My mother was a doxy who seduced my father away from his wife.”
    “See? You take after her.”
    “I’ve only ever heard awful stories about her, so I’m not certain that’s a