How to Seduce a Scoundrel

by Vicky Dreiling

  “I planned to get foxed with my friends,” she said.

  Her voice trembled just a little.

  “You had expectations after that waltz. My thoughtless words hurt you.”

  She struggled to break free. “I want to leave now.”

  “Calm yourself.”

  She fought him. He scooped her up in his arms and dropped her onto the bed. She reared up, but he pressed her back onto the mattress and pinned her wrists above her head. When she bucked, he used his body to still her. “I want you to answer me yes or no.”

  “How dare you?”

  “I hurt you when I said you were like my sister. Yes or no.”

  “Let me go or I’ll scream.”

  “There’s no one but me to hear you. I hurt you by saying you were like a sister to me. Answer me. Yes or no.”

  She clamped her mouth shut.

  “Answer me,” he said.

  When she still said nothing, he lowered his head to kiss her. She whipped her face aside. He kissed her cheek. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  She struggled underneath him again. “Don’t you dare pity me. Don’t you dare.”

  “I don’t pity you. And no matter what I said, I never thought of you like a sister.”

  “Let me go.”

  “You don’t understand. The entire time I waltzed with you, I was on fire. But you were—you are—forbidden to me. I’m your guardian. You’re my best friend’s sister. And I am so damned tempted by you I can’t get you out of my head.”

  Her lips parted.

  “Don’t you understand? The sound of your voice alone makes me insane to have you.”

  She looked stunned.

  “Remember the bad thoughts? I have them about you constantly. I sit beside you at the theater and fantasize about all the things I’m going to do when I get you naked and in my bed.”

  Her breathing grew as labored as his. He was as hard as stone, painfully aroused, and very aware of the dangerous situation. Hawk gritted his teeth, determined to get up and take her home.

  She lay unresisting beneath him. Her blue eyes were languorous. She stirred beneath him. “I can feel you against my belly.”

  Get up, get up, get up.

  “I have bad thoughts about you, too,” she whispered.

  Oh, God, help me.

  “Kiss me,” she said. “Just once more.”

  He almost said he wasn’t made out of stone, but at the moment, he felt like he was. “I shouldn’t, but I cannot resist you.” He let go of her wrists. She wrapped her arms around him as he devoured her mouth, licked her lips, and tasted her in an unmistakable rhythm of what he really wanted of her. She kissed him back, sucking on his tongue and threading her fingers through his hair.

  He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Then he fumbled blindly with the buttons on the back of her gown.

  “Sit astride me,” he said.

  She did as he asked, though her skirts hid her legs. He pushed her gown and undergarments down her to her waist. Then he cupped her breasts and circled his thumbs over her pink nipples. She arched her back. Pins fell onto the counterpane, and her long raven hair spilled over her shoulders. This was how he’d imagined her. He set his hands on the small of her back. “Lean toward me.”

  She didn’t question what he asked of her, but she gasped when he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked. He pushed her skirts out of his way and his breath caught at the dark curls.

  She reached between them and ran her hand over his rock-hard cock, measuring him through the tight fabric. When he felt her fingers on the buttons of his falls, he tried to make himself stop her, but the first touch of her soft fingers on his cock made him wild with lust.

  He sat up. She wrestled his coat, cravat, and shirt off. He stripped off her gown and all her undergarments. After he removed his boots and trousers, he shoved the covers down and kissed her as he pressed her to the bed.

  He slid his hands beneath her bottom, tilting her. Then he spread the folds of her sex and flicked his tongue against the sweet spot as he slid his finger inside her. She whimpered and arched her back. Within minutes, she cried out. The contractions sucked at his finger. Julianne opened her eyes as he rose up over her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, needing him, wanting him desperately. He had always been a part of her, and she was a part of him. Tonight, she wanted him to make love to her, because she loved him heart and soul, more than she’d ever loved him before.

  He parted the damp folds of her sex again and inserted two fingers, stretching her, making her wild with need. And then she felt him pushing inside. She cried out at the flash of pain.

  “Oh, God, I hurt you.” The tension eased gradually, and he slid a little farther inside. “Still hurt?” he whispered.

  “Not anymore.” Her hands slid to his hips. He groaned against her neck. She arched up against him. “Mmmm.”

  He pressed inch by inch until he was fully seated. And then he took his time, entering and withdrawing with exquisitely slow movements. He wanted to make it last a long time, and most of all, he wanted to pleasure her. Eventually his control spun out. He gave in to the urge to plunge faster and faster. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. He knew nothing but the need to reach for the ecstasy. As the erotic sensations overtook him, he managed to withdraw at the last possible second.

  Julianne could feel his heart pounding.

  He lay atop her, still breathing fast. Her arms and legs were still wrapped around him. Deep inside, she felt a slight soreness, though that wasn’t precisely the right word. The sensation lingered, as if her body held the memory of their joining.

  His breathing finally slowed. She turned her head and marveled that he could sleep after their lovemaking. He was heavy, but she liked being skin to skin with him. She’d never felt closer to him.

  She’d failed him tonight. Her words had sliced open his wounds, and he’d reacted harshly because she’d voiced doubts about him. He’d made the decision to change, but her accusation had infuriated him. She knew he must have felt vulnerable and a little scared that he wasn’t capable of changing. He’d needed her unconditional belief in him, and she’d let him down because of her own fears. But tonight he’d admitted how much he’d wanted her during their waltz. He’d said he’d been on fire for her.

  She’d been on fire for him tonight. He already possessed her heart, but she’d decided to give him her body in the ultimate act of love.

  A little voice in her head whispered that he’d taken her virginity in the bed where he’d slept with countless whores.

  She refused to think of their lovemaking as sordid. In giving herself to him, in this bed, she’d forever banished the women who had only performed for money. There was no comparison, because neither of them had been performing tonight. He would not have made love to her if he didn’t love her.

  “I love you,” she whispered. Then she kissed his cheek.

  His eyes opened. He looked dazed, as if he couldn’t remember where he was.

  She smiled at him, waiting for the three words that would change their lives forever.

  “Oh my God,” he said in a hoarse voice. Then he rolled onto his back and covered his eyes.

  Pain flickered in her heart, but she would not show it. Please hold me. Please, please hold me.

  He sat up on the edge of the bed, his back bowed, and cursed under his breath.

  Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. Then she touched his back. He stood and walked over to the wardrobe. When he opened it, he donned a robe. Then he reached inside and grasped a woman’s robe. Searing pain wrenched her heart.

  No, she would not wear it. She grasped the twisted sheet and covered herself. Of all the evidence he’d shown her tonight about his past, he’d managed to find the one thing that would tear her to pieces.

  A stinging sensation shot up her throat, spread through her cheeks, and hurt her eyes. She would not cry; she would not.

  He stood there and shoved the woman’s
robe back onto the shelf. Then he pulled out a voluminous man’s dressing gown and walked over to her. He tugged the sheet from her hands, exposing her. The shock of cool air made her shiver. He took her hand and helped her rise. Her legs trembled. He was staring at the bed with a tormented expression. She looked at the sheets and saw the bloodstains.

  He helped her into the robe and rolled up the long sleeves. He retrieved the candle branch. When he put his arm around her shoulders, she felt a bit better.

  “There’s a bathing room and towels, but there’s no water.”

  She swallowed. Those were the first words he’d said directly to her. He walked inside and set the candle branch on top of a small wooden chest. When she stepped inside, the marble was frigid beneath her feet. She was shaking as much from the cold as from the significance of the mistake she’d made.

  He brought her a towel. “You’re shivering.”

  “I’ll b-be fine.”

  His face contorted. Then he lifted her in his arms and carried her back into the bedchamber. He laid her on the bed and pushed the robe open. She tried to stop him, but he hushed her and applied the towel. Afterward, he sat on the bed, pulled her onto his lap, and hugged her so hard it hurt.

  Please tell me you love me.

  “I swear I’ll make it up to you,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  She’d wanted his love, and all he’d given her was his remorse.

  He’d wrapped his coat over her shoulders to keep her warm and held her during the ride back in a hackney. Cad that he was, he’d refused to let her get her pelisse at the theater. All he’d thought about was his own anger. He’d felt as if she’d stabbed him in the back when she’d said she didn’t want to end up like her mother.

  He’d asked her for honesty, and when she’d given it, he’d struck out. Because her fear of betrayal had unearthed his own fears that his father had been right about him. He’d treated sweet Julianne badly. But she’d stood up to him and said things that still shook him.

  She reached up and wiped her cheek. Oh, hell, she was crying. He found a handkerchief and patted her face. “Please don’t cry,” he whispered. Then he kissed her cheek, drew her onto his lap, and held her tight in his arms. He’d hurt her, both physically and emotionally. How could he have done it when he’d always adored her? When he’d always, always thought of her as his Julie-girl?

  Somehow, he would make this night up to her. He’d made her his tonight, but in truth, they had always shared a special bond. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew that somehow they were meant to be. Or was he simply making excuses for the terrible way he’d treated her tonight? He tightened his hold on her, because he needed her now, more than he’d ever needed another soul.

  The hackney rolled to a halt. He cupped her cheek. “I’ll escort you inside.”

  “No, that is unnecessary,” she said.

  “Julianne, my aunt will guess.” He’d had to warn her because her tumbledown curls and the love bite on her neck shouted what had happened to her. He kissed her hands. “I will call on you tomorrow, and I promise you there will be a new beginning.”

  She lifted her eyes and threw her arms around him. He hugged her. “Come along. I’ll let my aunt know I’m calling tomorrow.” He knew his aunt would rake him over the coals, as well she should. God knew he deserved far worse, but he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to his Julie-girl.

  He kept his arm around her shoulders as he escorted her up the walk. The biting wind stung through his shirtsleeves, but he figured he deserved it.

  When he led Julianne into the great hall, his aunt stood at the top of the stairs. Her gray brows shot up. He shook his head once, a warning to Hester to keep her scathing comments between her teeth until Julianne was safely out of hearing range.

  After he led Julianne to the landing, she handed him his coat. He kissed her cheek in full view of his aunt. What was the point in pretending when it was obvious he’d tumbled Julianne?

  She fled up the next flight of steps. He stood there watching, wishing he could stay by her side and comfort her, much the same way she’d done for him that night she’d found him drunk and passed out on his aunt’s sofa.

  When she disappeared from sight, he met his aunt’s gaze.

  “In the drawing room,” she said curtly.

  He followed her inside and closed the door. “I compromised her,” he said. “With your permission, I wish to call on her tomorrow.”

  “And?”

  “I will propose,” he said.

  “You’d better do it up right,” she said. “On your knee.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “When you do, swallow your guilt. No apologies, no remorse. She doesn’t want to hear it, do you understand?”

  His ears grew hot. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You will think of her, not yourself. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I had a switch, I’d take it to your backside,” Hester said.

  “I deserve worse,” he said.

  “I love that girl as if she were my own daughter,” Hester said. “And I love you, too. But if you ever hurt her again, I swear I’ll never speak to you afterward.”

  He swallowed, remembering the horrible things he’d said to her. “I plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

  “No, you will not. Hang your guilt. Spend the rest of your life treating her as if she were the sun and the stars combined.”

  “I will,” he said.

  “One last thing,” she said. “Wait to announce the engagement until we travel to Gatewick Park. And under no circumstances are you to confess to Shelbourne. You’ll only stir up a bee’s nest and create lasting hard feelings. He doesn’t need to know, and you’ll only humiliate Julianne. All you need say is that you fell hard for her and can’t live without her. I want your promise.”

  “I promise,” he said.

  “I know you regret what happened tonight, but you will never regret her,” Hester said.

  Something hot rushed up his throat and stung his eyes. He hoped to hell she wouldn’t regret him.

  Chapter Twenty

  A Lady’s Secrets of Seduction: The only thing that matters is three little words.

  Hawk opened the jewel box. When he touched the silver locket, he thought of Julianne’s blue eyes and his chest felt tight. He’d bought the locket to replace the one her father had given her. The one she’d shown him so hesitantly before that first ball. The one he’d not seen her wear since that first night. He’d bought her a new one, because he’d wanted her to wear his locket and know that he would always be hers.

  He didn’t have a miniature portrait yet, but he’d have one painted of both of them after they announced their engagement to their families. The devil only knew how Tristan would react, but he would take his aunt’s advice to heart.

  All these years, he’d believed himself incapable of being faithful, but he would. He’d experienced the emptiness of lust-filled couplings with women he’d barely known. He was done with that life forever. Today, he would walk away from that cold life and begin anew with his sweet Julianne.

  He straightened his neck cloth one last time. He remembered what his aunt had told him. No regrets. No guilt.

  Think of her. He would keep his remorse between his teeth and spend the rest of his days making her happy.

  He inhaled. After sleeping fitfully last night, he’d decided to set the tone of their marriage based on the life they had already shared and would continue to share. He wouldn’t make solemn promises, because words were only words. Instead, he would spend each day of their lives together demonstrating through his actions that he was a better man because of her. But he felt certain she’d find it charming if he began with silly promises. He’d make her laugh and then he would kneel as he’d promised his aunt.

  There was one issue that troubled him. He’d insisted on honesty between them, but he would enter into this engagement withholding a major fact about his past. Sh
e knew what his father had said about him, and she knew that he’d barely escaped pistols at dawn. But she’d not asked for specifics. She’d told him to let go of his past and forgive himself. And she’d said she would not press him to reveal more. The truth was she would never find out. Besides himself, only Westcott knew, and the man had been a key player in the cover-up. With good reason.

  Hawk had kept silent all these years to protect those he’d injured. But today, keeping that ugly secret bothered him.

  Last night, his aunt had told him never to reveal to Tristan that he’d compromised Julianne. She’d said he didn’t need to know. The question of the need to know decided him. Telling Julianne would accomplish nothing. He’d told her he couldn’t undo the damage, and it was true.

  He blew out his breath, determined to put her needs first today and every day after. He swallowed hard, knowing he didn’t deserve her, but he swore he would never hurt her again.

  With one last tug on his sleeves, he strode from his rooms, prepared to do something he’d never expected to do. As he walked out into the bright sunshine, the hollow place inside his chest filled.

  His heart beat harder, and all he knew was that he no longer felt empty. But he also felt a bit anxious, too. After the terrible things he’d said and done last night, he worried she would be afraid. But he couldn’t let the doubts in. Not now. Starting today, he would demonstrate what she meant to him in a thousand little ways.

  Julianne’s stomach clenched as Betty dressed her hair. Today, Hawk would propose to her. No one had voiced the actual reason for his intended call, but she knew he felt obligated to offer for her. And it was that sense of obligation that deeply troubled her.

  How could a marriage based on necessity thrive? And was it really necessary? She knew enough to realize he’d withdrawn before spilling his seed. There was no possibility of conception, but there was also the incontrovertible fact that she’d given her virginity to Hawk.

  And he’d not once mentioned love.

  Last night, he’d been consumed by guilt, but she had encouraged him to make love to her. In the bed where he’d lain with more mistresses than he could count.