Julia Justiss - The Rake to Rescue Her

As she returned to the parlour, the clock struck half-past eight. Apprehension flared in her gut.

Walking to the mirror, she began breathing methodically, until she’d achieved a state of detachment.

She’d do better tonight, she reassured her image. Alastair Ransleigh had shown himself even more susceptible to her touch than she was to his. She had only to begin at once, to use his sighs and gasps to gauge what ministrations affected him the most, and continue them with all the vigour and imagination she could devise until he was so sated by pleasure, he had neither thought nor strength to attempt touching her. Then take her leave, before he recovered.

She would do that tonight, and for however many nights she must until, inevitably, he became bored with her and ready to move to the next conquest.

Her vow to him fulfilled, she could then concentrate fully on reaching out to James—and decide how best to protect him.

But now, there was Alastair. Giving her impassive image one last look, Diana rose to summon a sedan chair.

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