Her lips curved in amusement. “I’m afraid if you’re elected, you will have to attend more than a few of those functions.”

“Maybe I won’t run after all.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“No.”

Her faint, sweet scent teased him as they strolled along the street, lit now and then by gas lamps. From somewhere—a highbrowed dance hall, perhaps—the tinkling sound of a piano escaped to faintly serenade them.

“There was only one thing that made the evening bearable,” Sloan added in a low voice.

“Oh?”

A groove deepened in his hard cheek as he half-smiled at her. “You. Watching you in that fancy gown. Wondering what you were wearing underneath. All through dinner, the only thing on my mind was stripping it off you and seeing what I could find underneath.”

“Indeed?”

“Are you wearing drawers, duchess?”

“Perhaps you should discover for yourself.”

She was flirting with him, he realized, his pulse quickening. The thought of following her advice interfered with his breathing and made his loins grow heavy. The duchess was standing there calm and cool as a nun, while all he could think about was bringing her to passion. He wanted to completely shatter her control, wanted her digging her nails into his back while she screamed with pleasure….

Abruptly Sloan pulled her into the shadow of a crab apple tree. His arms came around her to hold her, lightly, possessively.

“Sloan, I didn’t mean here…” Heather protested a bit breathlessly.

His mouth hovered over the sweet temptation of her lips. “Then where?” Preventing her answer, he brought his mouth down on hers. His tongue danced, dueling with hers, making her feel his urgent desire.

Heather repressed a moan, feeling her breasts tighten and swell. With effort, she placed a restraining hand on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, feel his heat. “Perhaps we should conduct this discussion in private.”

Drawing back, he gave her a slow wicked smile. In the light of the street lamp she caught the flare of undisguised lust in his eyes. Heat rose inside her, inflaming the tips of her breasts, arousing a heavy ache in her lower body.

Silently they turned and continued the short distance to their hotel. As they passed through the lobby and ascended the stairs to the second floor, it was all Heather could do to keep from touching him. Anticipation made her feel hot and restless, while her blood moved heavily through her veins. When they reached their room, Sloan would take her… She bit her lower lip, remembering the feel of that sleek, hard body moving over her, within her.

The hotel room was white with moonlight when they entered, the damask-covered bed illuminated by a faint glow. Sloan didn’t light a lamp, but turned on her, pressing Heather back against the door. His urgent kiss nearly took her breath away, while his hands came up to cover her swelling breasts beneath the stiff corset.