Page 26 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

He trembled. He was practically alone with her. He could, of course, slow his pace to allow the chaperone to catch up with them. He could even do the decent thing and let Diana know of the precarious situation they were in.

Decent?

James grinned. He was a lot of things, but decent wasn’t his preferred flavor. So, he picked up his pace just a little.

Stealthily, he pulled her closer to him, just a little, just enough that more of her touched him, that the hem of her dress grazed his legs as they walked. He could feel the warmth of her body, the heat radiating off her. Such a pity. He could sense the fire burning underneath her cold exterior. A fire that would remain unkindled as long as she remained unwed.

Suddenly, he resigned himself to the fact that today, now, with her, the walls around his sanity were crumbling. Because a thought struck him so sharply that he felt it in his stomach.

She would never know pleasure.

A woman like Diana—sharp-tongued, clever, burning with barely restrained defiance—was expected to live a life devoid of indulgence simply because Society dictated it.

A man could do as he pleased. He was living proof of that. He could drink and gamble to his heart’s content. He could pursue and bed whomever he desired. And all that with minimal to no consequences.

But her? If she were to remain a spinster, she would never feel that sweet quiver of desire, that unraveling of her body. She would remain untouched.

Unless she’s already touched herself.

His mind was outright betraying him today. It brought forth an image of Lady Diana in her bed, in her thin shift, her hands moving between her legs and?—

“Ahem.” He coughed loudly.

Diana looked up with momentary concern.

Oh, she should be concerned.

“Did it turn a bit chilly, My Lord?”

“Quite the opposite, My Lady.”

She frowned in question, but since the answers did not bring forth any excuses to cut this short, she walked on.

James was at war with himself. His thoughts were more winding than the path ahead, with more twists and turns. Someday, some man might come along, whisper sweet words in her ear, pull her closer, and replace her hands with his. He would touch her and promise her things that James knew he could deliver better.

No,hesaw her first.Henoticed her spark first. If she was to know pleasure, it would be because she chose it. And if she chose it, then, by God, he wanted it to be withhim.

“You are lost in thought, My Lord.” Diana’s voice cut through the air, her tone lightly mocking.

James glanced at her, then his lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. The moment was now. If he let the moment pass, it would be lost forever.

“I was simply considering something, My Lady.”

“And what, pray tell, could be so fascinating?”

Chance—or fate—would have it that they were in the darkest, most secluded spot in the whole park. And with no chaperone in sight.

James stopped walking and stepped closer to her. Not as close as he would have liked, but close enough to be felt. For her to notice.

“My mind wandered again to the matter of your unwed state. I applaud your decision and your determination.” He lowered his voice. “But tell me, My Lady, have you considered what you are giving up?”

“You presume I am denying myself anything of importance.”

“I understand. Marriage can mean shackles, and it can be a trap. It also brings…” His voice turned intimate. “… pleasure.”

The moment that word left his lips, James knew that everything changed. This game of theirs changed. It became deeper, something more. There was no turning back now. He didn’t want to go back. Helikedit.

“Denying pleasure,” he continued, stepping closer until her back was pressed against the bark of a nearby tree and his frame towered over her. “That is quite the sacrifice. One that shouldn’t be made lightly.”

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