In the Devil's Bed (Sins of the Duke Book 1) by Eva Devon

out a growling laugh. “Not wise. Remember, I am little more than a servant. And I don’t wish to provoke the wrath of a Chance.”
    “This may be true, but you are also a respected businessman who rubs shoulders with Carlton House.“ She quickly searched for some reason to justify such a request. “I call my footman Charlie. So why shouldn’t you call me Regan?”
    He laughed, a low rumble that washed over her skin. “You’ve got the logic of a bleedin’ con. Right then. Regan it is.”
    Regan slipped her fingers over the top of his hand and squeezed. She nearly groaned at the friction of his warm skin under hers. His thumb closed over the tips of her fingers, locking them in his grasp.
    Their eyes met. Suddenly Regan was hit by an onslaught of senses. The spicy smell of him, herbs she did not know, filled the air. The broadness of his chest, inches from her own, heightened Regan’s awareness.
    He was too near. Too large. Too wide for a gentleman. And the heat flowing from his hand to hers traveled through her veins like wine.
    Tilting his head down so that his eyes were level with hers, he said, “Jack. Please call me Jack.”
    Regan wet her lips, and whispered, “Jack.” The name crossed her lips like a forbidden word, filling her with pleasure and a touch of fear.
    In his eyes raged a storm of pain. And. . . something else. Something Regan wanted to understand. She lowered her eyes to his lips. She’d never kissed a man in her entire life, never had time to. But if she were ever to kiss one, he would be the one. Slowly, Regan raised her hand to the side of his face and pressed her mouth lightly to his.
    Salty, warm skin burned against her mouth. Her body tensed. She wanted to open her lips and taste him, but she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to do such a thing. Even as her body urged her to take more, Regan forced herself to lean back.
    Jack’s broad chest rose in a long breath, then he took the blanket in his strong fingers and inch by slow inch, pulled it down her legs.
    As the soft wool caressed her skin, Regan’s eyes widened as desire pooled in her limbs. She bit her lower lip. No idea what was going to happen next. But whatever it was, she wanted to experience it.
    His hands slid around her waist and covered the small of her back. Their gentle power seared through the thin fabric of her gown, igniting the skin beneath his hands.
    Jack pulled her across the narrow space. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He lowered his lips to her mouth. She should stop, but she wanted this.
    One of his hands appeared at her throat, caressing it. His fingers brushed her chin, angling her head. His lips moved over hers, touching in long, soft strokes.
    Regan gasped against his mouth, shocked by his tenderness. It melted her against him. How could a man who’d lived such a violent life hold her with such gentle need and desire?
    Her fingers tightened on the hard muscles of his arms, uncertain if she should pull back from his kiss or lean further into him. But his fingers at her neck circled into her hair. Regan gave in to the soft sensation of his mouth over hers. Gently, he slipped his tongue between her lips.
    A moan of need escaped her mouth. He growled in response, a deep, possessive sound as his arm tightened around her waist. The hot taste of him hit Regan like a tidal wave. She dragged her hands up his arms and clung to his neck. The softness of his hair trailed over her fingers.
    Right or wrong, Regan caressed his tongue with the tip of hers. His hand ran along her back, supporting her weight as he tilted her into his arm, deepening their kiss.
    His hand stole to the edge of the hem of her gown. Every nerve in her body urged him to stroke her thigh. Oh God, what was she doing?
    Regan’s hands froze on his body. Fear tunneled through her. She was kissing a man in her bed and she couldn’t behave thusly. If she did, she would set her feet on a path that she couldn’t return from.
    His lips moved over