Page 83 of If the Duke Dares
Because he was unbearably handsome. Nothing more.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Impossibly, he smiled wider. But his eyes remained closed. “Never better. This is the second occasion on which I’ve fallen out of bed in your presence. And this time is blissfully rat-free.”
She couldn’t help giggling. “Do you need help?”
Finally, his lids came open, revealing his dark, still-sensual gaze. “I don’t think so. This floor is cold, but then I was probably overheated. Not that I minded.” He gave her a wicked wink.
This was the rogue she’d tried to avoid. She could not deny, however, that being the beneficiary of his flirtations was the headiest thing she’d ever experienced. He’d chosen her when he could have anyone.
And he would have married her if she’d allowed it. Because he’d felt he must. The rogue had finally learned that there were consequences to his actions.
Persephone did not want to be a consequence.
He pushed himself up on his elbows, which made the muscles of his abdomen contract. Her body reacted, indicating that she was entirely game for a third try at a climax. So long as it involved exploring him more fully.
“When do you need to go upstairs?” he asked, perhaps reading her thoughts.
She continued surveying the marvels of his bare chest, from the dark patch of hair at the center to his intriguing nipples. Would they react as hers did when she touched them? “Not for some time,” she responded.
“Excellent.” He sat up fully and leaned toward her, kissing her thoroughly. She was most definitely ready for another go. He stroked his thumb along her jaw. “I should like to take my time with number three. You see, I’ve thought of a way to tie your hands to the legs of the cot using my stockings. If you’re agreeable.”
Heat pulsed between her legs. “Yes, please. But first, I want a lengthy investigation of at least your chest.”
His brows shot up. “Just my chest?”
“Perhaps a bit more,” she admitted with a smile.
He spread his arms wide. “I am yours to explore and conquer.”
It was nearly dawn before Acton exited into the garden. Persephone smiled to herself as she carefully made her way upstairs. The night’s activities hadn’t eliminated the problems she faced with her parents, but she was certainly in a better mood.
But for how long?
After pacing a circuit around the library, Acton flung himself in a chair near the hearth. The rain had continued from last night, and the day was cool. But the weather wasn’t troubling him. Persey was at the forefront of his mind.
Last night had been wonderful. Perhaps the best night of his life. He’d smiled the entire way back to his mother’s house right up until he’d fallen asleep seconds after his head had hit the pillow.
Why then was he maundering about?
Because there was something off.
He should be walking on clouds, his mind firmly focused on when he would see Persey next—tonight, as they’d planned to meet in the scullery again. At midnight this time.
Wasn’t that what rogues did? They enjoyed themselves without a thought for the future or any sort of permanence. Except the idea of his time with Persey being finite was making him feel somewhat…unsettled.
Though, she’d been clear that she didn’t want anything permanent. She’d expressly forbade him to propose. But wasn’t that the right thing to do after becoming intimate?
Not to her. She’d been intimate with someone else and hadn’t married him either.
A thought occurred to him. Was she a female rogue?
Groaning, he put his head in his hand. Of course, she wasn’t. She hadn’t gained a reputation as a rake. Because she didn’t go about sampling whatever wares might be offered from whoever was offering them. Nor did she flirt and try to actively obtain those wares. And neither did she frequent the Rogue’s Den or anyplace similar. For her, there was a mutual attraction and affinity before anything physical transpired.
At least, that was how he read their situation. He suspected it had been the same when she’d been with that other fellow years ago.
What she’d said echoed in his mind: she wanted to love someone and be loved in return. Acton hadn’t lied when he’d told her he didn’t know how to love. Whom had he loved?
