He bent his head to her and took the nipple in his mouth, the rosy bud tightening between his lips. She was moaning beneath him, calling out his name, and he knew she wanted him.

And the knowledge thrilled him.

“Oh Blake oh Blake oh Blake,” she groaned. “Can you do that?”

“I assure you I can,” he said with a low chuckle.

She gasped as he sucked a touch harder. “No, but is it allowed?”

His chuckle turned into a throaty laugh. “Anything is allowed, my sweet.”

“Yes, but I—ooooooohhhhhh.”

Blake grinned with a very masculine smugness as her words lost their coherence. “And now,” he said with a wicked leer, “I can do it to the other one.”

His hands went to work pushing her dress off her other shoulder, but just before he revealed his prize, he heard the most awful sound.

Perriwick.

“Sir? Sir? Sir!!!” This, accompanied by the most annoyingly persistent knocking.

“Blake!” Caroline gasped.

“Shhh.” He clamped his hand over her mouth. “He'll go away.”

“Mr. Ravenscroft! It's most urgent!”

“I don't think he's going to go away,” she whispered, her words getting muffled under his palm.

“Perriwick!” Blake bellowed. “I'm busy. Go away. Now!”

“Yes, I thought as much,” the butler said through the door. “It's what I most feared.”

“He knows I'm here,” Caroline hissed. Then, quite suddenly, she turned red as a raspberry. “Oh, dear Lord, he knows I'm here. What have I done?”

Blake cursed under his breath. Caroline had clearly just regained her senses and remembered that no lady of her consequence did the sort of things she'd been doing. And, damn it, that made him remember as well, and he was quite unable to take advantage of her while his conscience was in full working order.

“I can't let Perriwick see me,” she said frantically.

“He's just the butler,” Blake replied, knowing that wasn't the point but a little too frustrated to care.

“He's my friend. And his opinion of me matters.”

“To whom?”

“To me, you nodcock.” She was trying to right her appearance with such haste that her fingers kept slipping over the buttons of her dress.

“Here,” Blake said, giving her a shove. “Into the washing room.”

Caroline dashed into the smaller chamber with alacrity, grabbing her slippers at the very last minute. As soon as the door clicked behind her, she heard Blake yank open the door to his room and say, rather nastily, “What do you want, Perriwick?”

“If I may be so bold, sir—”

“Perriwick.” Blake's voice was laced with heavy warning. Caroline feared for the butler's safety if he didn't get to the point with all possible haste. At this rate, Blake was likely to boot him right out the window.

“Right, sir. It's Miss Trent. I can't find her anywhere.”

“I wasn't aware that Miss Trent was required to apprise you of her whereabouts at every given moment.”

“No, of course not, Mr. Ravenscroft, but I found this at the top of the stairs, and—”