An Uncommon Duke. Laurie Benson
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him away, but she had forgotten the feel of the curve of the muscles in his arms. A slow glide of his tongue against her closed lips had her weakening. And when he pressed his body into hers, all rational thought left her brain and her body took over.
She had missed him—missed the time they’d spent together early in their marriage.
Reluctantly she slid her hands over his shoulders and threaded her fingers through his thick hair. It was shorter now than it had been years ago. She deepened the kiss.
He groaned low into her mouth and slid his hands over the curve of her bottom. And then, just as quickly as it began, he let her go.
‘Let that put to rest your false assumption,’ he said, breathing deeply. He stepped away from her, spun on his heels and stormed out the door.
Olivia peered at him through the large shop window as he walked down Bond Street as if he owned the world. She rested her hand on the display case beside her, trying to steady her wobbly legs.
What had just happened? One minute he was being the most insufferable man and the next he was kissing her senseless.
And she’d kissed him back.
She pressed her hand against her forehead, silently berating herself for her foolishness. It must have been her discussion about sensuality with Manning that had caused her to give in to his unusual behaviour. It definitely was not the taste and feel of her husband. Those feelings of wanting him were long dead.
Weren’t they?
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