Page 70 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“Of course you don’t. That can’t be a secret to you.”
“It’s still nice to hear you say it.” He drew off her gray leather glove and brought her hand to his lips. “It’s nice that you aren’t fighting the attraction anymore.”
A grunt of bleak amusement escaped, as her fingers tangled around his. The brush of his lips made her shiver with anticipation. “I wasn’t very successful.”
“What conclusions did you reach during all this soul-searching?”
He lowered her hand, but kept hold of it. That warm, steady clasp gave her the courage to continue. “After twenty-six years of exemplary behavior, I was cast out just as finally as I’d have been cast out if I’d run off with the gardener’s boy at sixteen. In the end, a lifetime of prudence did me no good. If I have to pay the price anyway, I may as well enjoy the crime.”
“Are you offering to become my mistress, Juliet?”
Heat crept into her cheeks. “No. It may be unlikely, but one day, I hope to restore my reputation, at least to a point where I can do charitable work and see my sisters and lead a useful life. If I enter a liaison with you, all of that will be denied to me.”
He looked disappointed, but didn’t argue with her conclusions. “Then what are you offering?”
“One night where we meet as equals, and you show me everything I’ve been missing.”
Faint mockery arched his eyebrows. “That might require more than one night.”
She swallowed to moisten a scratchy throat. “One night is all I can give you. Will you accept the bargain? I…I hunger for you, and this is my only chance.” She swallowed again. “I’m not made for intrigue. The events of the last few days only prove how useless I am at subterfuge.”
“I may disappoint you.” Still holding her hand, he crossed to sit beside her. “A virgin’s first time isn’t always pleasant.”
Embarrassment made her mutter, “When you…when you came to my room, you did something to me that…”
She wasn’t used to talking about such intimate things. Good heavens, soon she wouldn’t just be talking about them. If Evesham accepted her terms, he’d become her lover. The thought flooded her with a churning mixture of excitement and apprehension.
A smile eased the stern line of his lips. “I gave you a climax.”
“You can do that again. If it hurts afterward, I won’t mind.”
His brows drew together. “Juliet, darling. I’m not worthy of you.”
Mortified, she stared at him. “Are you saying no?”
He released a huff of sardonic laughter. “If I were a gallant knight like that idiot Granville, I’d refuse. You deserve better than a quick swive in an obscure inn.”
“I don’t want Granville. I want you.” She pulled her hand free. “Please don’t say I’ve made even more of a fool of myself.”
“I’ve wanted you from the first. I never thought you’d consent to be mine. As if I’d say no.”
A great sigh of relief expelled all the air from her lungs. It had taken every scrap of her bravery to reach this point. If it had turned out that Evesham was no longer interested, it would hurt even more than hearing her father pronounce her dead to him.
“Then…” she started in a shaky voice as she removed her other glove. “Then do you think perhaps you might kiss me? I’m never afraid when you kiss me.”
Emotion filled his eyes. Desire, as always. And something else that made her nitwit heart ache with poignant longing. Something that looked like affection and care and need. “My dearest girl…”
He pulled down the blinds, deepening the darkness. Then he slid closer along the bench and looped his arms around her, as if she was made of the most delicate glass. When his lips touched hers, the moment held all the tremulous enchantment of their first kiss, except that, this time, she knew what was to come.
As he continued to toy with her, she made a complaint against his mouth and scraped her teeth across his lower lip. He deepened the pressure, sweeping his tongue over her lips before venturing inside. With a growl of satisfaction, she tangled her hands in his hair to bring him nearer.
His gentleness threatened to break her heart, and today had already held too much heartbreak. Now she wanted heat and excitement. Wild and demanding passion to incinerate the last of her qualms. Vigorous masculine energy to extinguish the memory of her humiliation and banishment.
Panting, he raised his head and stared down at her, eyes glittering in the shadows.
Juliet stroked his face with a boldness that she’d never shown before. Beneath her palm, his cheek was warm and she felt the slight roughness of his whiskers. She was careful not to press on his bruise.
It felt good not to guard every action. Losing her reputation delivered a freedom that she’d never experienced. Perhaps this new life wasn’t going to be all bad, after all.
