Page 28 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

Diana had brushed her hair too many times. She slipped into her shifts, lay on the soft mattress, and blew out the candles. All in all, she had performed her nighttime routine, which had never failed to lull her into sleep. And yet she was still wide awake.

She had asked for a warm chamomile tea and then took her favorite book with her to bed. The warm blend tasted bitter, and her favorite words twirled around, making no sense. And she knew exactly why.

Him.

She couldn’t sleep because she was used to sleeping alone and she was no longer alone in the darkness.Hewas there with her—although not in body—in her bedroom, in her bed. It didn’t matter.

She could hear his voice, that dangerous purr. She could feel his breath on her face. And worst of all, she could still hearandfeel his words.

“I could show you pleasure, My Lady. Real pleasure.”

She jumped out of bed faster than she would if it was on fire. The bed wasn’t.Shewas.

Days had passed. Days since she was backed up against that tree, its bark digging into her back. And somehow, she never left. Every time she was left alone, her mind would wander, and she would find herself back there. With him so close, his hand trapping her in place, his other hand touching her.

Almosttouching her.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? He still hadn’t touched her. Not skin on skin, not without the gloves and the layers. Diana used to find the fact that they couldn’t be out without all those restrictions on their appearances stifling. But perhaps there was some merit to them. Because if his gloved touch nearly unraveled her, anactualtouch would ruin her.

Get a hold of yourself!

She could not. It was as if there was a quiet lake inside her. A lake filled to the brim with want and desire, and she had done an amazing job of building a dam around it. A brilliant dam madeof indifference and distance, of books and threads, of measured control and perfect composure.

And then he came along with his expressive blue eyes and his witty remarks, his massive body and his devilish smirk, and with one flick of his fingers, the dam burst out, pouring unknown feelings into her, making herache.

This is his fault.

Diana picked an emotion out of the dangerous soup that was boiling in her heart and mind. And she chose anger. Yes, she was angry that she allowed him to manipulate her like that. She was not—would be not—one of the foolish ladies who let themselves be carried away by his polished charm.

Was she not?

“Argh!” Diana allowed herself one moment of wild emotion.

Then, she sighed and sat back on the bed. Whatever had happened, it mattered not. Whether he was manipulating her or truly interested in her was not important. The thing she needed to focus on was that whatever it was, whatever it did, it unveiled something within her. It unleashed a deep desire and begged a question she couldn’t ignore.

Why should she forsake pleasure because she rejected the notion of marriage? It wasn’t fair just because she was a woman, she was to remain untouched simply because she didn’t want to getmarried. Men like Lord Crawford could give into their desires and flaunt their rakish ways, but she had to eternally remain the picture of piety.

Never before did she question that cruel, unjust rule of Society. She simply accepted it. But now the seed was planted. The thing she chose to ignore was demanding attention.

Diana let her hand travel up her arm. Light, like a teasing feather touch. Nothing more. But there was a fleeting moment when her eyes fluttered shut and it was him touching her. The effect was so devastating that she moaned softly into the darkness. The sound woke her up, and she grabbed her head with both hands, shaking it as if she could empty it of such thoughts.

Once more, she climbed out of bed and went to the window, trying to distract herself from a path she didn’t dare tread. Did she?

Society dictated that her only purpose in life was to marry and bear children, and there she was, defying that notion already. What were a few more rules to be bend? If she were to remain unmarried, that didn’t mean she needed to remain untouched, did it? And who better to do that with thanhim?

Before madness overtook her, she took a deep breath and rationalized as calmly as her shaking body allowed. A list. She could create a sensible list and mull over this with a level head.

Yes, that is the best idea.

Lord Crawford was perfect for the job. He had the experience, the audacity to propose it himself, and the emotional incapacity to demand anything more. He would perform admirably, deliver what he advertised, and then move on to the next conquest, with no attachments and no rash ideas of marriage. He would be discreet and efficient.

Oh, so efficient.

He was already worming his way into her head and he hadn’t even touched her.Yet.

If she were to make that reckless, wild decision, if she were to take a step down that irrevocable path, she somehow knew that he would take her to the edge and bring her back safely. She could allow him to show her pleasure, and then they would go on their way, having shared a fun memory.

A perfectly laid out plan!

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