Page 55 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

Nothing.

Oh God.

Diana cursed under her breath again and pulled at her dress with her whole weight.

Rip.

Her skirt was irreparably torn, but she was free.

She wrapped herself in her cloak, closed the window, and ran to the tall side wall. She sprinted across the short grass as fast as her legs would carry her.

There.

She spotted a small, forgotten door—a remnant of the times when the estate was smaller—hidden behind overgrown ivy. She had made sure the days before that the latch was still working, and she made sure to bring something to prevent it from latching back. She needed this gate open. It was not only her escape but also her way back in.

Once she was out, she glanced at both sides of the dark road. Her heart was pounding hard.

“I’ll wait for you in three days at the side of the abandoned Lesham Manor. I’ll wait till the sun rises, Diana,”James had promised her.

That was where she was going. Lesham Manor was next door. It had been abandoned for years, dark and empty. Diana turned and?—

James.

He was there, leaning against the curricle, his massive body imposing. His head was bowed, his hand over his lips as if he were lost in thought. Then, he sensed her and turned around.

Diana inhaled to slow her racing heart. Useless. The moment she saw him, it thundered even harder.

James was there, wearing a shirt with no cravat. The top buttons were undone, and a sliver of skin peeked from the opening—a call to her yearning hands.

It’s a warm night, and it’s about to become scorching.

Then, finally, she looked into his eyes. All the hiding and running and the ripping of her dress was nothing compared to what his look did to her heart. The moment his eyes landed on her, it skipped a beat. The look in his mercurial blue eyes shifted, from brooding to relieved, and then?—

Oh.

She felt it rather than saw it. The hunger.

His gaze swept over her, and it was as if he was touching her. Seeing her in black made him graze his lower lip with his teeth before he stopped at the torn fabric of her dress. The tear was just enough to expose the pale curve of her shins—a sight so scandalous that it made the muscle in his jaw twitch.

He pushed off the curricle, pinning her with the look in his eyes. Before Diana could even realize it, he stalked toward her. He grabbed her by the waist, one hand digging into her flesh and the other cupping her face. A sharp inhale from her, a deep, guttural sigh from him, and then his mouth crashed onto hers.

He devoured her as if he had starved to death during the three days they hadn’t seen each other. His mouth was demanding, claiming her tongue, caressing it, luring it deeper. A wet, decadent kiss that made her knees buckle, only for him to pull her against his solid body, lifting her off on her feet. His hand slid into her hair and loosened it.

With a pained grunt, he stopped.

“You are here,” he panted, almost in disbelief.

“That was the plan.”

“And you came to me dressed like temptation itself?” His eyes raked over her body. “Tell me, Diana, who is teaching who here?”

Diana looked down at her torn dress and then back at his ravenous eyes. “It is simply an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.”

“Oh.” He swiped his thumb over her lower lip. “There is nothing unfortunate with the way you look.”

Diana blushed under his intense gaze, which betrayed his inner struggle. He was seriously thinking of ditching all the plans he had for tonight, pinning her against the curricle, and doing scandalous things to her.

He took a deep breath to compose himself, and Diana was intoxicated by the power she had over him. She almost made him lose control. Almost.

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