Well, what had she expected? asked that other Miss Fleming, ousting her competitor and taking total possession as Felix bend his head to kiss her. Her mouth opened welcomingly under his and he took what she offered, gradually drawing her into his embrace until she was crushed against his chest. Margaret did not mind; breathing seemed unimportant just at that moment.

When Felix finally raises his head, his eyes were bright under their hooded lids and, she noticed with smug satisfaction, his breathing was almost as ragged as hers. His eyes searched her face, then his slow smile appeared. "I notice you've ceased reminding me I'm your guardian."

Margaret, finding her arms twined around his neck, ran her fingers through his dark hair. "I've given up," she said in resignation. "You never paid the slightest attention, anyway."

Felix chuckled and bent to kiss her again, then pulled back and turned her about. "Even if I were your guardian, I'd still have seduced you, sweetheart."

Margaret obligingly stood still while his long fingers unlaced her gown. She dropped her head forward to move her curls, which he had loosened, out of his way. Then, the oddity of his words struck her. Her head came up abruptly. "Even? Felix..." She tried to turn around but his hand pushed her back.

"Stand still," he commanded. "I have no intention of making love to you with your clothes on."

Having no wish to argue that particular point, Margaret, seething with impatience, stood still until she felt the last ribbon freed. Then, she turned, "What do you mean, even if you were my guardian? You are my guardian. You told me so yourself." Her voice tapered away as one part of her mind tried to concentrate on her questions while the rest was more interested in the fact that Felix had slipped her dress from her shoulders and it had slid, in a softly sensuous way, down her feet. In seconds, her petticoats followed.

"Yes, I know I did," Felix agreed helpfully, his fingers busy with the laces of the light stays which restrained her ample charms. "I lied. Most unwisely, as it turned out."

"Wh...what?" Margaret was having a terrible time trying to focus her mind. It kept wandering. She supposed she really ought to feel shy about Felix undressing her. The thought that there were not so many pieces of her clothing left for him to remove, spurred her to ask, "What do you mean, you lied? And why unwisely?"

Felix dispensed with her stays and turned his attention to the tiny buttons of her chemise. "You were never my ward. You ceased to be a ward of the Duke of Twyford when you turned twenty-five. But I arranged to let you believe I was still your guardian, thinking that if you knew I wasn't you would never let me near you." He grinned wolfishly at her as his hands slipped over her shoulders and her chemise joined the rest of her clothes at her feet. "I didn't then know that the Flemings are...susceptible to rakes."

His smug grin drove Margaret to shake her head. "We're not...susceptible."

"Oh?" One dark brow rose.

Margaret closed her eyes and her head fell back as his hands closed over her breasts. She heard his deep chuckle and smiled to herself. Then, as his hands drifted, his lips turned to hers, her mind went obligingly blank, allowing her senses free rein. As her bones turned to jelly and her knees buckled, Felix's arm helpfully supported her. Then, her lips were free and she was swung up into his arms. A moment later, she was deposited in the midst of the cushions and silks on the dais.

Feeling excitement tingling along every nerve, Margaret stretched sensuously, smiling at the light that glowed in Felix's eyes as they watched her while he dispensed with his clothes. But when he stretched out beside her, and her hands drifted across the hard muscles of his chest, she felt him hold back. In unconscious entreaty, she turned towards him, her body arching against his. His response was immediate and the next instant his lips had returned to hers, his arms gathering her to him. With a satisfied sigh, Margaret gave her full concentration to her last lesson.