His fingers continued their downward path, and Regina held her breath while waiting for him to touch her where she wanted it most. Her inner thighs were already damp with arousal, her cunny clenching and pulsing with desperate need. A finger slid into her, then another, and Regina’s head fell to the desk as he began fucking her with them—first with slow, precise thrusts, then with faster ones that made her sheath clench and squeeze around him. Just when she hovered on the edge of climax, he withdrew and then dipped his thumb into her. Before she knew what was happening, his first two fingers were back inside her and the thick tip of his thumb pressed against another part of her … a place he’d never before touched. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing and why, but then he gained an inch into her rear passage, and then another, and words failed her.
“Oh,” she whispered, the tension melting from her spine as she registered the foreign sensations of him breeching both her entrances at once. “David …”
His lips skimmed her shoulder, his fingers steadily teasing her back toward climax. His entire thumb was lodged in her now, adding a sense of fullness and wicked, vulgar pleasure to his steady caresses inside her quim.
“Didn’t I tell you?” he whispered, kissing his way along the back of her neck. “There is so much left for me to teach you … so many things I could do to make you melt for me.”
She had melted minutes ago, and was now a weightless, formless bundle of nerves at his fingertips. Climax unfurled from within her in what felt like an instant, tearing through her with unrelenting intensity. She clawed the desk and bit her lip around a moan, hips bucking and legs quivering as he quickened the strokes of his fingers, his knuckles slamming into her with a savagery she welcomed with every backward sway of her hips.
Only when she’d gone still did he remove his fingers and position the head of his cock at her entrance. He was aroused again, full and thick and demanding as he pressed into her. Regina gasped when he paused halfway in, withdrew, and then plunged, his hips battering her buttocks and pushing her into the edge of the desk. He did it again, then again, one hand pressing at her lower back to hold her where he wanted as he fucked her with hard, measured strokes. The dying embers of her first climax roared to life again, and by the time he’d worked himself up to a swift, steady rhythm, she was falling apart again. The hand at her back slid under her and pulled her up, his chest pressed into her back. His arm locked around her waist and his teeth clenched around her earlobe as he pounded into her, driving her climax higher and higher until she could hardly breathe through the belly-clenching spasms.
Regina lifted her hands into his hair, swaying back into each of his thrusts, accepting everything he had to give and wishing it never had to end.
But, end it did, when David pushed her back over the desk and fell against her, head buried in her neck as he chased his own climax. His hands slid up her body and along her arms, until his hands rested over hers, their fingers intertwining. Regina clung to him as he groaned his release into her ear, hips jerking his heart thudding against her back.
He went deathly still, though his weight wasn’t so unpleasant that Regina required him to leave her. She enjoyed the solidity of him, as if he were her shield against the world. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to hang onto the final moments they would share together, knowing the time had come to lay everything bare.
She waited until his breathing had quieted and he finally straightened from on top of her. Until he had used his cravat to clean himself, then folded it and offered it to her use. Until he had pulled his breeches back up and offered her the forgotten nightgown.
Then, she turned to face him, one hand pressed against her middle. He stared at her, one hand clenching the back of his chair and his mouth a harsh line as wide, dazed eyes fell to where her hand cradled new life.
Regina parted her lips to speak, hoping to get her words out before David could utter his.
In the end, they both spoke at once.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, at the exact moment David met her gaze and uttered, without batting an eyelash, “Marry me.”
Chapter 12
“Regina. Did you hear me? I said—”
“I heard what you said. What on earth can you mean by it?”
“I should think that was plain enough. I want to marry you.”
“Why?”
David squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head against the back of the carriage seat. Last night’s confrontation with Regina had kept him awake through the night, and now plagued him in the bright light of day. He never intended to speak the words that had shattered what was left of their fragile connection. Before sending the note summoning her to his study, David told himself to be strong. He would hear what she had to say and accept it with grace and a stiff upper lip. He would congratulate her on becoming a mother and wish her well. He would let her go.
But then, he’d lain eyes on her and all his good intentions had fallen away. David couldn’t think of anything other than having one last night with her, forestalling the inevitable and pretending this might end differently.
One last taste of her, and he could set her free. He could go on about his life pretending there wasn’t a child of his bloodline walking about Lancashire, or that his heart wasn’t broken at the loss of the one woman he’d ever felt more than attraction and mild affection for. Regina owned him body and soul, and David wanted the same of her. He wanted to be able to call her his, to take comfort in the knowledge that he would never have to be without her.
Which was why, after taking her across his desk, David had found himself unable to adhere to his plan. Let her go? He would rather die.
There had been no forethought, no rehearsal of the words he might have used to better explain his feelings. Marry me, he’d blurted like a mad fool. The horror on her face had dealt the first agonizing blow to his ravaged heart, and then had come the question he had found himself hard-pressed to answer.
“Why, David? Why do you want to marry me?”
“You’ve just informed me that you are carrying my child.”
“As per our contract! We entered into this agreement with the knowledge that it would end in me becoming pregnant with my child.”
“That was before. Everything has changed now. Can’t you see that?”
God, he was such an idiot. ‘I love you, that’s why.’ Why hadn’t he been able to say those words? Why could he only stand there gaping at her like a fish out of water as she began erecting her barriers against him, eyes growing shuttered and her demeanor freezing over like a lake hardening in winter.
“Nothing has changed. I wanted a child, and you have helped me conceive one, as promised. We were both clear enough with each other from the beginning. I never want to marry again, and you have admitted to only being interested in taking a wife for the sake of a fortune. I think the bonus you are set to earn is more than enough of my money to meet your needs. There is no need to try to shackle yourself to me for life.”
That had hurt, but what could David say in his own defense? Those words had come out of his stupid, stupid mouth. How could he expect her to believe his position on marriage had changed because of her? Still, realizing that hadn’t stopped him from trying.
“You can keep every penny of your own money, I won’t touch it. Your inheritance isn’t what I want, Regina.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Damn it, no! You cannot honestly think me such a cad.”
“Perhaps not, but the timing of your proposal does you no credit. If it isn’t my money you are after, then surely this is about the child.”
“It certainly shouldn’t be left out of the conversation. It’s a baby, Regina. Our baby.”
“Stop saying that! God, you men are all the same, aren’t you? Even when I have made myself clear, established boundaries and earned your agreement to my terms, you still try to twist the situation to fit your own wants and needs. I promised myself no man would ever own me again, that everything
I had earned would remain mine … and you somehow think planting a child in me entitles you to all the rest? You think I should give you my money, my home, my body just because you spilled your seed in me?”
“Idiot, idiot, idiot!” he growled, as her harsh words resonated through his memory. He lifted his head and dropped it against the back of the seat with each utterance of the word, as he remembered being tongue-tied in the face of her fury.
Because, damn it, she was right. Not about his intentions, and certainly not about his notions of entitlement or greed. She was right to be angry with him for trying to break the terms of their agreement. She was right to assume the worst of him. He had signed his name in agreement of her terms and owed her what he’d promised. He fulfilled the first part of the bargain by getting her with child, but surely his clumsy marriage proposal had been in violation of the other part of the contract—the part where he was supposed to take his bonus and walk away without a look back.
He wanted to be angry with her. David wanted to think of her as frigid and unrelenting and cruel. But, try as he might, he couldn’t stop feeling guilty for what he’d done. He couldn’t stop wishing that if he were going to trample over the rules of their arrangement, he would have done it in a way that left her with no doubt to how he felt.
“I want to marry you because I love you,” he recited to the empty carriage. “Because I cannot live without you, and because I had no idea what it meant to commit to one person until I realized I wanted to commit myself to you.”
Not perfect, but true enough. Words he ought to have found the courage to say in the heat of the moment, but for the first time his tongue had failed him. Seduction and charm, he could manage. Talk of real and deep emotion, he was utterly miserable at. It was no wonder she would not have him.
Anyway, it was too late for him to try to smooth things over. He had left his bedchamber this morning to find that the snow had ceased hours ago, and rising temperatures had already begun melting it away. Caruthers reported that Regina and her driver departed shortly after dawn, with David none the wiser. He had sulked over breakfast, his expression clearly enough to keep his mother and the twins from asking probing questions. If they suspected what had gone on between him and Regina the night before, no one spoke of it.
By midday, a bank draft had arrived from Regina in the amount of five thousand pounds. There was no accompanying note, no hint that she wanted anything more than to deliver his promised funds. Of course there was nothing more than that. She had made it clear she intended to adhere to their contract without wavering. He had his answer, no matter how unsatisfactory, and there was nothing left for David to do but carry on with his life.
Thus, his impromptu trip to London. His things had been packed and the carriage readied in less than an hour. His valet had been left behind, with David in no mood to endure the company of another person. Having to tie his own cravats seemed like a small enough inconvenience for the sake of solitude with his own tormented thoughts.
He did not plan to remain for long, but Benedict had written to inform him that Hugh, Aubrey, and Nick were all back in Town. Seeing them again might offer a sense of familiarity and make him feel more like himself. The farm was far from saved, but once winter gave way to spring, the land along the east pasture would be ready for planting. The income from the sale of wool and meat had gone into the materials needed to repair their mill, building of new and better enclosures, and improvements about the house. With Regina’s bank draft, they would finally find firmer footing. In the next year or two, profits from harvests and wool would be enough to restore the Graham family and their lands to their former glory. He would begin interviewing new stewards upon his return now that he could afford to pay one.
Matters had improved enough that the entire estate wouldn’t crumble in his absence. He would spend a few days in the company of his friends and try to convince himself that Regina’s rejection had been for the best.
Regina flinched and muttered a curse, before lifting her pricked and reddened finger to her lips. That was the third time she had jabbed herself with the sewing needle in the past hour, as her mind wandered away from the chore of mending. Her maid typically did this work, but Regina had hoped setting herself to some mindless task might help her stop thinking about David.
No such luck.
Apparently, mending stockings and chemises was almost too senseless a job, because Regina’s traitorous mind kept taking her into dangerous territory. David’s words echoed in her thoughts, wracking her with guilt and giving her a pounding headache.
But, why should she feel guilty? David had been in the wrong. By asking her to marry him, he had completely disregarded her wishes. He’d used her unborn child as a tool by which to manipulate her into marriage. Whether because he wanted her money, or because he wanted the babe he had sired, it made no difference. Regina had vowed never to wed again, and she would not change her mind.
“Are you ready to talk about it now?” Powell asked from his corner of the room.
He’d been silent all day, hovering at her back over breakfast and trailing her during her morning ride. When she settled down with her mending, Powell had opened a book and taken his place in an armchair, occasionally peering at her over the pages. She had hoped he might not try to pull her into conversation, but Regina ought to have known better. Powell had not yet asked about her overnight stay at David’s house, but he had to notice the dark circles under her eyes and the tight set to her mouth. She had tossed and turned the entire night, reliving her last hours with David over and over.
“No,” she snapped, lowering her head back over her chemise. But then, the needle slipped and a drop of blood splashed the lace of the neckline and Regina threw everything—needle and all—to the floor at her feet. “Bloody hell!”
Powell raised an eyebrow and glanced at the little box containing spools of thread and other bits and bobs. “Haven’t you a thimble or some such?”
She blinked, staring at him as if he’d just asked her to solve a mathematical equation without the benefit of pencil and paper. Such a simple question, one that should not make her feel like such an imbecile.
“I do,” she muttered taking up a scrap of unused fabric from the chest and using it to apply pressure to her tortured finger. “I’m not feeling at all the thing today and forgot it entirely.”
“Because you’re now in a … delicate way?”
When Regina’s lips parted on a sharp breath, Powell slouched and crossed one leg over the other with a shrug. “I noticed you’ve been sleeping later the past few weeks. My sister slept like a corpse when she carried my nephew … it was the first sign, even before the sickness. We’ll hear the cries of a newborn around September, I’m thinking.”
With a disbelieving shake of her head, she avoided Powell’s probing gaze. The man was too astute by half, and his constant nearness meant he always knew even the things she tried to hide.
“You are correct. I discovered it just a few days ago and informed David last night.”
“Ah, so that’s it, then.”
Regina had just gone back into her basket when Powell’s words stilled her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that I had a feeling it might come to this once you got what you wanted. He wasn’t content to walk away once you told him, was he?” At her shocked expression, Powell chuckled. “Haven’t you been paying attention? The man’s been besotted with you from the first.”
Regina might have upbraided him for such impertinent talk, but Powell wasn’t just a servant. Because of Randolph’s tyrannical rule, he was the only friend she had in the world.
David was your friend. He was your lover, but he became more than that.
The thought made a well of nausea erupt in her throat and panic flare in her chest. Powell was wrong. She had been paying attention, so she knew David had grown fond of her. However, she hadn’t wanted to believe it was true. She still did not.
“He doesn’t want me, he o
nly thinks he does,” she argued feebly, twisting the skirt of her gown with shaking fingers. She wore spring green today, a fabric she had bought because the modiste pointed out how it matched her eyes. It hadn’t been worn in years, and for some reason after her night at The Crimson Dove with David, Regina had found it impossible to go back to the widow’s weeds.
“I think the man knows his own mind better than you.”
“And I think it’s just like you to take the other man’s side in this!”
Powell’s mouth turned down as he studied her, fingers stroking his chin. “I’m on your side in all things, and I think you know that. However, I also think you do your Mr. Graham a disservice. He isn’t Hurst.”
She shot to her feet, her injured finger throbbing as she balled her hands into fists. “I never said he was.”
Powell arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t you? If it isn’t you he wants, then just what do you suspect Graham is after? Your money?”
“He is certainly in desperate need,” she argued. “He told me himself he wasn’t the marrying sort, but would possibly consider it if enough money were involved.”
“And do you think a few thousand pounds would matter if you could be made happy? Not just content, or living with what small joys you think you can have. I mean actually, truly happy, as you have been these past months.”
She parted her lips to insist that she certainly had not been as happy as Powell claimed, but the pitying look he gave her had Regina snapping them shut. To argue that David hadn’t brought her joy would be a lie, and no one would see that better than Powell.
“You left this house for the first time in weeks to go to that public house, and I’ve never seen you as happy as you were the next morning … when you came down to breakfast wearing a pink frock. You haven’t been able to force yourself back into the black ever since. You hum to yourself when you think I can’t hear, and you practically bounce with excitement while waiting for him to come to you at night. Until this morning you haven’t asked me to follow you anywhere, or stand outside your door, and it’s because he made you feel safe. You weren’t afraid of him.”
Taming of the Rake (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 4) Page 21
