Art of Seduction

Chapter One Half our mistakes in life arise from feeling when we ought to think, and thinking when we ought to feel. -- John Collins London, 1850"That's the spot, love. A little harder. Right...there...ah, yes."Dominick's fingers tightened around the waist of the barmaid who was straddling his lap, her hands, deft and incredibly masterful, working their magic on his heated flesh.Blessed Jesus, she was good. He had never been massaged in quite this way, amid a crowded taproom with a mountain of cleavage staring him in the face, only the barest wisp of material covering the girl's enormous breasts.He hooked his finger over the top of her gypsy blouse, lightly caressing her dewy skin, watching as her nipples peaked and strained against the flimsy cotton.She gazed at him with heated eyes, her look amply conveying that he could do whatever he liked, that she did not care about the onlookers gathered around them, drool practically dribbling from their mouths.Perhaps this time he would take her up on her offer."My lord?""Ssh," he murmured, sweeping the very tip of his finger over one hardened nub, hearing her quick intake of breath and smiling. She squirmed against him, wanting more. He obliged.He dipped a hand inside her blouse, boldly cupping her while keeping his prize hidden from the leering eyes hoping for a glimpse at Sally's elusive bounty."Please, sir."How could he deny her when she begged so sweetly? "All right, my girl. You've won." Dominick leaned forward, very slowly tugging the material down, his tongue running over his lips as he anticipated the unveiling of that dusky pink tip."Sir?"He scowled as the voice beckoning him changed from soft and infinitely feminine to grating and annoyingly male.The barmaid's image began to waver, as though he looked at her through a water-filled glass globe. Then, like a vapor trail, she disappeared.Damn."Sir?" croaked that same bloody voice, ruining a perfectly lascivious dream. "Are you awake?"Dominick growled and rolled onto his back, grabbing the pillow under his head and throwing it at the speaker. "Bugger off, damn you!" he barked as reality pummeled him, along with a throbbing in his skull that told him he had imbibed far too much at his club the previous evening."Are you all right, sir?" No, he bloody well wasn't all right. Since his homecoming a week earlier, everyone felt inclined to ply him with drinks as though he were some conquering hero, instead of a retired army colonel who had returned only because he had been forced to.With a great deal of reluctance, Dominick lifted his forearm off his face and was immediately assaulted by a brilliant burst of golden light.He closed his eyes against the unwanted intrusion. "Sweet Jesus," he rasped, "what is that?""The sun, my lord," replied that now familiar voice, creaky as an unused gate and just as irritating. Hastings, his bloody butler. Soon to be his ex-butler for waking him."Good Christ, is it always that...bright?""For as long as I can remember, sir. Yes."Dominick groaned. "What time is it?" His throat felt like someone had poured sand down it."Two in the afternoon.""On what day?" "Friday, sir.""Friday?" Dominick frowned. He remembered Monday fairly well. Tuesday was a bit hazy. Wednesday was somewhat of a crapshoot, and Thursday...well, what could one say about Thursday? Nothing, apparently.Emitting another painful groan, he levered himself up onto his elbows. Once settled in his new position, he fixed his irritated gaze on his rigidly erect, gray-haired butler, who had been with his family since Dominick was in short coats, and who took it upon himself to peck at Dominick like a mother hen whenever Dominick got out of line -- which had been quite often as a youth, and almost as often as an adult.It didn't seem to matter to Hastings that Dominick was nowGeorge, Melanie is the author of 'Art of Seduction' with ISBN 9780743442725 and ISBN 0743442725.