A Matter of Sin by Jess Michaels

there in the drawing room, teasing the person who had taken the item with no thought to their… her feelings.
    It was all very ungentlemanly.
    However, that fact had not stopped her from picturing Seth while she pleasured herself a second time.
    Straightening her shoulders, she marched into the library, leaving the door open so there would be a little light from the hallway to serve as her guide. At the table where she had stood the night before, she paused and slipped the book from where she had secreted it away in the folds of her skirts.
    Setting it on the tabletop, she stared at the shape of it in the darkness. How she regretted letting it go when she had hardly had the time to fully explore and enjoy it.
    When she returned to London, she was going to have to find a way to discreetly obtain a copy of her own. Perhaps Grace could help, since she seemed to know a way around everything and everyone.
    With a sigh, she turned to go, but she had not even completed her first step when in the darkness, a figure rose from a chair across the room. The scratch of flint grated on Isabel’s ears and then a candle glowed with light and revealed the person who had found her lurking. Unfortunately, it was the same person who had found her the night before.
    Lyndham.
    Her heart leapt into her throat and her hands began to shake as he moved toward her, his light lifted as if he was trying to examine her face. The urge to run filled her, to hide her humiliation in her bed and then maybe even return to London where she wouldn’t have to see this man ever again.
    In the dimness, the corners of his lips lifted slightly and he smirked at her. Her humiliation, which had burned so hotly, faded as she looked at his smug countenance. It was instantly replaced by another emotion: irritation.
    She folded her arms as he came to a stop just a step away from her.
    “My lord,” she said, pleased that her tone could be so icy.
    His smirk broadened. “My lady. We are making a habit of these late night rendezvous.”
    She didn’t move, even though he had leaned closer as he spoke and his voice was rough and seductive. Her anger faded, but she forced it back to the surface.
    “Indeed,” she said, perhaps less forcefully than she would have liked. “But I assure you this will be the last time we shall meet like this.”
    One dark brow arched and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? That is a true disappointment. But as you say this is the last time we shall do this, it would be ungentlemanly of me not to offer you some assistance tonight. Is there something you were looking for? Something you need?”
    She swallowed. Had he moved closer again? He seemed larger now, and her treacherous mind was determined to flash to all the fantasies she had indulged in while she read that dratted book. Why oh why had she allowed herself to think of this man? Now he was a distraction of the highest order.
    With a shake of her head, Isabel attempted focus once more. She had to recall that the marquis was taunting her in a most impolite fashion. He wanted her to be all twisted up and nervous; he was somehow enjoying seeing her squirm. Only she had one way to turn the tables and perhaps make him do the same. One way to defuse his power over her. A way Grace would be most proud of.
    She lifted her gaze and met his, almost overpowered by the way the light caught in his bright, blue eyes. Dear God, he was beautiful.
    But no…focus! She had to focus.
    “Oh no, sir,” she said, her tone gaining strength with each word. “I have fulfilled my purpose in coming here tonight. There is nothing I require.”
    “Your purpose?” he asked with a chuckle in his tone. “And what was that?”
    She reached behind her and found the copy of The Ladies Book of Pleasures on the table. Lifting it, she said, “Why, I was returning your book, Lord Lyndham.” She held it out to him, and he took it with his wide eyes. “You seemed to be in quite a bad way about it tonight when you and