“Me first,” she said and slid her hand between his legs to his erection.

It took several seconds for him to respond. “Okay,” he said. “Ladies first.”

“Lady,” she said, squeezing him gently. “Lady.”

“Lady,” he agreed, and one second later, she took his mouth in hers in a searing French kiss.

Geoffrey nearly came right then, but she pulled back. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said.

“Yes,” he managed in a gruff voice. His clothes felt tight, his skin even tighter. “You’re wearing too many clothes, too.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

He shook his head. “Fair is fair.”

Meeting his gaze for a long moment, she sighed, then unbuttoned her blouse and stripped it off. Her bra barely concealed her full breasts, her nipples just barely peeking above the white lace.

“Oh, my-”

“If you’re going to be that distracted, should I put my shirt back on?”

“No, no, no, no…”

“Okay,” she said and kissed him again, this time stripping off his shirt and rubbing her palms over his naked skin. Somehow he’d ended up more bare than her. How had that happened?

Her hands flowed down to his waist, where she unfastened his slacks with little fumbling. He didn’t want to think about what that meant regarding her experience. How many men before him? He cut off the thought. He didn’t want to go there. What was important was this moment. This woman.

Seconds later, she plunged her hands into his crotch, touching his bare erection. He forced himself not to growl, not to…

“What are you doing?” he murmured. “What do you-”

“I’m going to kiss my way down your chest,” she said, lowering her wicked, wonderful mouth more and more. She pushed his jeans down farther, exposing him to her gaze. And mouth.

Geoffrey stifled a dozen oaths as her breath brushed over him intimately. “Oh. God.”

Meeting his gaze, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.

“Oh. My-”

Geoffrey was in ecstasy. The sensation of her tongue on him, the visual of her hair on his crotch, her mouth devouring the most sensitive part of him.

“Do you like it?” she asked, then slid her tongue over him. “Does it feel good?”

He was one millisecond away from losing it, and she stopped. She smiled at him with a sultry gaze. “Your turn.”

Geoffrey acted purely on instinct. He lifted Maria on top of the piano and pulled off her bra. Her breasts spilled free-her nipples were large, dusky, and taut. He cupped her breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. She moaned.

Geoffrey fumbled with her jeans but succeeded in unfastening them. She graciously lifted her gorgeous hips so he could lower the denim to her thighs, then her ankles.

He caught sight of her swollen femininity. Her obvious arousal nearly did him in. “You’re so gorgeous,” he said, sliding his fingers between her thighs to where she was wet and velvety.

“That feels good,” she said, wriggling beneath his touch.

He had to have her every way. Every way. Lowering his head, he spread her legs with his hands and took her with his mouth. She gasped and sighed and gasped.

The sound was like music to his ears. The taste of her drove him crazy. She grew more swollen with each stroke of his tongue. Her reaction was beyond gratifying. “Take me,” she whispered. “Take me.”

Sitting down on the bench, he brought her onto his lap. She struggled with her jeans, kicking them off, then rose again and plunged downward on him.

“Oh. My,” he said.

“God,” she said, undulating on him.

“I can’t last long,” he said.

“Me, either,” she said.

And Geoffrey felt as if he’d died and gone to heaven. Or hell. Or both. He didn’t care which. He just wanted to go again.

After they made love again, this time on a blanket on the floor, Geoffrey held Maria in his arms. She was warm, sensual, and lush. “You are the most amazing woman in the world.”

“That’s your woodie talking,” she said, but she smiled.

“It is not,” he said. “I don’t even have a woodie at the moment,” he told her, then chuckled to himself. “You took very good care of that.” He slid his finger over the dark tendril of hair hiding one of her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a secret goddess?”

She threw back her head and laughed. “If I were a goddess, would I shovel horse manure?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

Her smile faded, but joy glinted in her dark eyes. “Perhaps.”

“If you were a goddess, what would your life be like?”

She closed her eyes and her black eyelashes curled against her eyelids. “I would have my own house and my own horses. I would have a dog or two. I would have beautiful flowers in every room, and music. All of the furniture would feel soft against my skin. I would eat fruit and fajitas and pie. I would have enough money to hire helpers and pay them well. I would give money to Virginia so she wouldn’t struggle. It would be beautiful.”

“Would you have a husband?”

Her face fell again, and he felt some of the joy slip from her. “I don’t know,” she said and opened her eyes. “He would have to be a very gentle man. I would have to be sure that he would never ever hurt me.”

A sharp longing stabbed him deep inside. More than anything, Geoffrey wanted to be that man for Maria. He opened his mouth to tell her, but the sound of Lori’s Pomeranian yapping downstairs interrupted him. He glanced up. “What the devil-” He frowned. “What time is it anyway?”

“Around eleven, I think. We should go to bed,” she said and shifted away from him. It took everything he had not to pull her back into his arms as she dressed.

Hastily pulling on his briefs and jeans, he darted to the window and spotted Jackson ’s SUV in front of the house. His gut sank. “They’re back,” he muttered. “Lori and Jackson are back.”

Maria joined him at the window. “Lori,” she said, her voice dead.

His heart hammering, he turned to Maria. “I want to be with you more than anything,” he said. “But my family’s finances are in dire straits. They’re counting on me to get us out of the bloody mess. It’s not fair. It’s not right. But it is my duty. I must marry her if she’ll have me.”

“Tough being a duke, isn’t it?” she said, with a sad smile. “She’s pretty and rich, no scars-”

“Stop.” Geoffrey pulled her against him. “She’s not you,” he said. “And you are who I want. You are who I wanted before I even knew you existed.”

He saw the flicker of emotion and passion in her eyes before she closed them for a second. “But I don’t have what you need. You would suffer if you didn’t take care of your family. You must marry Lori.” She lifted on tiptoe to press her lips against his. “I won’t forget you,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt so treasured. You’ve been gentle with me.”

“You deserve so much more,” he said, feeling helpless. “You deserve-”

“Shhh,” she said. “We have this to remember, and I will always have your song. Good night, Geoffrey,” she said and left him staring after her. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest.

Lori awakened the next morning in her bed at Virginia ’s ranch house with Kenny at her feet. It could have been three days ago or two weeks ago. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Had she really gotten married?

Her mind flashed back to the awful wedding ceremony and the two mind-blowing nights she’d shared with Jackson. She couldn’t have dreamed all that. She sat up in bed and thought about how they’d parted last night. He’d parked her duffel bag inside her bedroom and she’d held her breath, wondering if he would stay, wondering if he would ask her to join him. Instead, he’d muttered, “Good night.”

She’d fumed over his lack of passion for a good hour, then fell asleep. Kenny moved toward her and rolled over to offer his belly to be rubbed. Lori smiled and obliged him. She shouldn’t overthink her marriage to Jackson. The only rational part of it was that she now had access to her inheritance, and the first check she planned to write was to Virginia.