A Regency Courtesan's Pride: More Than a Mistress / The Rake's Inherited Courtesan. Ann Lethbridge
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quiet and once more emptied his mind.
More rustling.
The bed sank in one corner.
Heart drumming, he shot upright, staring wide-eyed at the foot of his bed.
Merry? ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘I beg your pardon.’ God damn it, he was naked. He flipped the edge of the counterpane over his hips.
Her gaze remained on his face, but she must have seen, when she walked in, that he was stark naked. Once more, blood headed for his groin. Damn the woman. ‘What did you want?’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’
That made two of them. ‘So you thought you’d wake me to share in your lack of rest. Hand me my robe.’ It lay beside her across the foot of the bed.
She bit her lip and handed it to him. ‘I’m sorry.’ She slid off the bed and walked to the hearth, looking down at the fire, while he pulled the banyan around him.
She spun around as he finished tying the knot. ‘I did not intend to disturb you.’
Disturb. Hah! He couldn’t be more pleased. Or at least one part of him couldn’t. The rest of him wasn’t so sure. He waved off her apology. ‘How can I be of service?’ A bad choice of words. The low thrum in his blood had become a steady pounding beat. He could smell her, the scent of lavender and soap, and a woman fresh from her bed. He wanted to carry her to his. He wanted to lay her down amid his sheets. He wanted all she would give. But only if she gave it freely.
She looked at him, her head tilted on one side, her full lips parted. Lips he longed to take with his own. He clenched his jaw.
‘I came to apologise,’ she said and pressed those full lips together as if trying to decide what to say next. She clasped her hands at her waist. The firelight behind her shone through the flimsy nightgown and wrap. Outlined in the faint glow, her legs were long and slender, the dark triangle at their apex more imagined than seen. Black as night to match her hair, no doubt, and a delightful contrast to her pale skin.
His teeth ground together. He picked up a candle. ‘Let me escort you back to your room.’
She backed away, thankfully into the shadows beside the hearth. She looked nervous. ‘You cannot deny the attraction between us.’
The clenching of his groin anticipated what might come next, but at what price? ‘I won’t change my mind, Merry, whatever coin you use.’
She flinched. A mere flicker of an eyelash, a minute tightening of her jaw. He’d hurt her. He wanted to apologise and grant her wish. He couldn’t. It had taken all of his powers of persuasion to convince Father to let Robert return. One misstep and all would be ruined.
Yet she did not retire in defeat. It wasn’t in her to give up. Her gaze did not shift away. Instead her bright blue eyes held his gaze boldly. She licked her top lip, leaving it moist and pink. It held his attention as she spoke again.
‘It has nothing to do with’ she gestured vaguely with one hand ‘that. No one would believe you would offer for me anyway.’
Truth was a bitter brew. He wished she wasn’t right. But if she wasn’t here to convince him to follow her plan, then why had she come after her coolness this evening? A bubble of something light and airy restricted his breathing. Hope. Damn it. When he should really be turning her around and sending her out of the door, he nodded for her to go on.
‘I enjoyed our kiss today. I would like to repeat the experience.’
His groin gave a pulse of approval. Why not, indeed? The urge to say yes filled his throat.
He walked to the window, before the words left his mouth. Before he did something he’d regret. ‘You are a beautiful woman. I cannot deny I find you alluring, but I no longer believe the impression you gave me on my first night here. Or my conclusion this morning that you might be an abbess.’
She gasped.
He turned with a smile. ‘Finding two very bold females in my bedroom this morning led me astray.’
A small smile of acknowledgement touched her lips. ‘I see how it might happen.’
He forced himself to say the next words. ‘I certainly recognise the spark of attraction between us, it was there from the first, but you are unmarried and therefore out of bounds. I’m sorry.’
Hades. How utterly priggish he sounded. But it was the right thing to do.
Her fingers played with the tie at her waist.
Bloody hell, if she didn’t take him at his word and leave he’d have that small knot untied and the whisper of silk covering her form puddled at her feet.
Randy bastard.
She glanced at him from beneath half-lowered lashes. ‘You are indeed a gentleman. But we are both adults, are we not? Both experienced in the ways of the world and capable of making our own decisions. Why should we not have one night of pleasure before you leave?’
He strode to face her toe to toe. She didn’t flinch. Her gaze didn’t drop from his as he held her chin between forefinger and thumb, tilting her face up, bringing her lovely mouth within reach of his own.
He wanted her.
More than he wanted to give her aid, he wanted her in his bed. Had wanted her since the moment she gazed at him on the road.
And here she was offering herself to him. Not a virgin, the kind of woman he must marry, but a bold sensual woman who knew what she wanted.
A groan rose in his throat. He forced it to silence. Closed his eyes briefly against the urges riding him hard and forced himself to speak. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her body swaying towards him, her lavender perfume rising like incense to his senses, sweet and heavy.
He bent his head and claimed her mouth.
Merry sank into his embrace, clutched at the front of his robe with desperate fingers in case she collapsed to the floor on legs weak with relief.
She let her senses drift on the pleasure of his kiss, the lovely feel of his body hard against hers, the intruding thigh between her legs, the large hands roaming her body at will.
Ever since he had caressed her feet in the billiard room, her body had been on fire, her mind a senseless mess of conflicting and confusing thoughts. She wanted this, even if she was beyond the pale to him except in this most basic of passions.
Tonight she would have her desires fulfilled and out of the way, so she could plan how next to proceed without regret for what might have been.
His tongue licked her lips and pressed against the seam of her mouth. She opened to him, tasted brandy smoky on her tongue.
Her breasts felt heavy and full, the place between her thighs moist and tingling; she tilted her hips, increasing the pressure of his thigh and was rewarded by his brief indrawn breath.
She uncurled her fingers from the fabric of his robe and slipped them beneath, to run her hands over his broad expanse of chest.
She’d seen much of him in the billiard room and again as he lay naked on his bed with his eyes closed.
She’d been surprised but grateful for the candles’ revealing light. His body was gorgeous, his male member thick and large; she could feel it now pressing against her lower abdomen as his hand brushed up from the indentation at her waist to cover her breast.
She let go a long sigh of pleasure and a satisfied sound of male approval rumbled in his chest.
It sent a shiver down her spine.
Her fingers splayed across the warm silken skin of his chest, felt the roughness of hair and the puckered skin of his scar.
She longed to touch it with her tongue, taste it with her lips, but right now his mouth was taking