Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night (Rebellious Desires)

by Reid, Stacy

  She braced her hands against his shoulders, slowing his penetration, and he allowed her. Rhys wanted her to feel every inch of him as he slid into her. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her down on his aching length in slow degrees of penetration until she was seated on his cock as deep as he could get.

  A soft cry spilled from her, and her nails bit into the muscles of his shoulders, leaving behind an erotic sting. His cock got even harder on a pleasurable pulse. The feeling was exquisite, and the tight fit of her had him groaning. What was even better was, despite the fact that she had to be very tender from his earlier loving, her face was a study in pleasure.

  Her arms wound around his neck, and she fused their lips together, whimpering into his kiss and steadily increasing thrusts. Her body seemed to have been fashioned to meld with his, to fit so damn perfectly with his as they strained toward ecstasy. She arched above him, crying out as her release swept through her, and he tumbled with her.

  “No one needs to know—we will be very discreet,” Rhys suggested, hating the idea of keeping their passion a guarded secret, but he wanted her that badly. Very stupid of him, for certainly nothing would ever come of it, even if he were to be bloody knighted. She was unexpected, a beautiful distraction from his plan to secure an unmatched future for his sisters, but it was impossible for him to shut away the urgings blazing through his dreams and waking moments. “This will be between you and me, no one else.”

  “Yes.”

  His damn heart stopped for seconds before roaring to life. “Yes?”

  Her wide, generous mouth curved. “Oh yes. I’ll have an affair with you.”

  He wrapped his arms fully around her, acutely aware of her slight femininity. The incredibly unique, utterly feminine scent of her body invaded his lungs. He felt almost at a loss what to do. “How long?”

  “I…I’ve never had an affair before.”

  “A week, a month, a year?” Forever?

  “I…just until it ends.”

  And for now, that would have to be enough.

  She pressed trembling fingers to his lips. “I desire you in a manner I have felt for no other man, and I doubt I will ever feel again. Though I know we cannot last, I want to take and cherish whatever time we will have. And…and I want more than just you in my body pleasuring me,” she said, a flush coloring her face. She gave him an odd, searching look. “I am inextricably drawn to you. Who are you, Rhys? I want…to know you. Perhaps we might even be friends.”

  He took her lips in a searing kiss and proceeded to make love with her slowly and for a long damn time.

  Rhys watched Georgiana as she slept. Her hair spilled like a curtain of obsidian silk across the sheets. She was curled on her side, lightly resting against his stomach. He was sitting up on the bed, his back braced against the headboard, one of his knees drawn up and the other stretched out in a tangle of her feet and the silken sheets.

  He’d exhausted her. Hell, he’d exhausted himself, taking her several times. She had been like an innocent, and he felt like a corrupter recalling all the luscious things he’d demanded of her. She had fallen into slumber, and he had been reluctant to disturb her. It was less than an hour till dawn, and he needed to slip away. He’d promised discretion.

  He ran his finger down her cheek, and she did not stir. She looked so peaceful; he was glad he had given her that. The fear that had bled from her earlier had vanished. Rhys would ensure all threats to her and her son would be removed. He didn’t want to examine why it was so important to him that she felt secure and safe from worry.

  The small sounds of contentment she made in her sleep soothed him. The way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks entranced him. She was such delightful company, intelligent and savvy, yet there was a sweetness she couldn’t hide. He liked her at his side. Unusual that. He was so used to being alone in the world he’d carved for himself plotting and watching, waiting for the sins of people to make their way into his arsenal. His sisters and mother had no idea of his reputation in the underworld, only knowing he was a businessman with several profitable investments. The duchess knew the thin veneer of gentlemanlike qualities he showed to the world was just that, a facade. Yet she had given herself to him so unreservedly, with such passion. He had the unnerving desire to find out what made her happy and simply lay all her hidden desires at her feet.

  Perhaps this was what obsession felt like.

  Georgiana stirred languidly against his chest. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled with unconcealed pleasure. “Hello,” she murmured sleepily.

  “Georgiana,” he replied.

  Her eyes were drowsy, slumberous, staring up at him with an inescapable hunger.

  “The dawn is breaking.”

  Her gaze slashed toward the wide windows overlooking the palatial lawns of the estate. “So it is.”

  This moment without passion almost felt awkward. He’d never had an attachment before and hardly knew where to start. “I’ll be leaving soon.”

  She slid up in the bed, dragging the sheets with her, hiding her nakedness from him. His duchess leaned against the headboard, combing her fingers through her tangled hair, the gesture nervous and unexpected. She darted him a quick, searching glance. “Rhys, I cannot thank you for what you did for me. I—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “You already thanked me.”

  “It is not enough.”

  His hand framed her cheek, his thumb running over the slightly swollen curve of her lips. “It is. You do not owe me eternal gratitude.”

  Her chin lifted stubbornly. “Yet you shall have it for as long as I live. Do you think I am unaware of the burden and scrutiny you saved me, my son, and my family from? The scandal of a trial, the fear of wondering when Lord James would strike again. You removed that shadow from our lives at a great cost to yourself, Rhys.”

  A fist closed itself over his heart. “I’ve killed before, duchess.”

  She jolted, and her eyes widened. Her hand reached up to touch his face. Warm fingertips brushed over his flesh before they touched his lips. “Why?”

  With a soft grunt, he released her and once again leaned against the headboard. “It is of little consequence.”

  “I would not betray your confidence, if that is your worry.”

  He considered her and the need in her eyes for a greater connection between them than fiery passion. It felt far too personal, lying there amongst twisted sheets, sharing intimacies with her he’d never told a soul. Joanna’s enraged screams had alerted him, and as he’d raced down the lanes to the small house that they had lived in in Lambeth, those minutes before he’d reached her had been the darkest hour of his existence. She hadn’t been raped—he had blessedly prevented that horror from befalling his sister.

  He reached over and tugged Georgiana to him. His hands slid down and cupped her bottom and then pulled her into the hollow of his hips so her back was flush to his chest. Her skin was so soft, like a rose petal. “A man assaulted my sister.”

  She took a deep breath. “Will you tell me?”

  “Joanna was fourteen at the time of the attack. She fought back, and he scarred her face. I rescued her before he stole more from her, and I killed him. It did not haunt me, duchess, nor was I filled with remorse that I rid the earth of such vermin.”

  She touched his forearms lightly. “I, too, have a younger sister. Ellie. When she was only thirteen years…her music tutor…he did something rather frightening. She told Simon, and though duels are illegal, he challenged the man for the dishonor of touching her. Simon killed him. I assure you, it is always honorable to protect those we love. I was not about to give judgment.”

  Rhys smiled, never expecting such a perspective from a lady of polite society.

  She twisted and shifted so that she faced him. “Tell me about the sister you wish for me to sponsor.”

  “Lydia. She is three-and-twenty, she is full of charm and life, despite her imperfections, and I would see her wed to a gentleman of honor. It will be a chal
lenge, for Lydia is deaf. She lost her hearing several years ago from a fever. Her gentleman will need to be kind and understanding. I will break him if he ridicules or harms her.”

  Compassion softened his duchess’s features. “I’m terribly sorry for her pain. I’ll look forward to bringing her to the notice of society. My friendship with her will go a long way in securing her a gentleman of esteem.”

  Her kindness had an ache rising inside. “Thank you. You befriending my sister is more than I would ask. You may not like her.”

  Georgiana grinned. “I am sure we’ll get along famously. There were several invitations to balls I’ve been ignoring. I will return to town to attend a few events. I’ll see that a few invitations are also secured for your sister.”

  He pressed a kiss to her nose. “Thank you.”

  “Some of town society can be thoughtless. Is…is she prepared to mingle with the ton?” his duchess asked delicately.

  “All my sisters have ballgowns, jewelry, and assorted fripperies to rival a queen. Their dowries are thirty thousand pounds each, along with shares in certain businesses I am invested in.”

  She gazed at him in frank astonishment. “Goodness, they are heiresses.”

  “They’ve had the best tutors in dancing, Latin, French, and how to walk, talk, and dress like ladies. They have been prepared for years.”

  Her eyes searched his face. “You were only waiting for the door to unlock…you were waiting on me.”

  “I was, duchess…I was, in more ways than one.”

  Her smile became glorious. “We have some time before dawn.”

  “About one hour.”

  She waggled her eyebrow suggestively and then laughed. He captured her giggles with a kiss, tumbling her back onto the rumpled sheets. He would delay for another hour, and then he would slip away. Georgiana seemed to agree, for she eagerly opened her thighs to cradle his weight, clasped the muscles of his shoulders and hugged her to him.

  Christ. Being in her arms felt so right. If only he could somehow convince her they belonged. His heart jerked, and he stiffened.

  “What is it?” she murmured against his lips.

  “I am wondering if I should simply keep you forever.”

  Her mouth worked once or twice, and then she spluttered in an uncharacteristic fashion. Uncertainty shifted in her eyes, but he did not allow her lips to form a denial. He claimed them in a burning kiss, only allowing passion to hold them in its incendiary arms.

  The doubt could stay for another day.

  Chapter Eleven

  Georgiana had thought herself experienced and worldly, but a single night in bed with Rhys had proven how very wrong she had been on that score. Her entire body flushed as the gratifying memories of the lascivious ways he had loved her for the night rioted through her thoughts. A full two days had passed, and she was still acutely conscious of the tenderness between her legs, and the ache in her heart. How she wished he had been able to stay. She had no notion on how to conduct an affair, nor had he offered any suggestions. Rhys had simply slipped away when she had been drowsy with repletion after another fierce but wonderful round of making love.

  A sweet giggle reached her ears, and she lifted her head. Simon strolled inside with Nicolas perched atop his shoulders. Her son’s eyes drooped sleepily, and Georgiana smiled. Simon had thoroughly exhausted him. First, they had spent an hour at the lake fishing, then they had taken a swim. As if that hadn’t been exhausting enough, her little duke had tormented Simon into playing a game of hide-and-seek. Their cavorting had left her free to deal with replying to several letters from various charities, investment matters, and a meeting with her man of affairs.

  “How is my son?” she asked, pushing from the desk. Georgiana had all but smothered him yesterday, to his initial delight. He had become curious at her constant hovering, and she had forced herself to retreat and trust that he was well. The man who’d wanted to hurt him was dead, and villains were not lurking in every corner. Nicolas did not remember much because of the laudanum, so he was not filled with terrors. She was eternally grateful the memory of it would not haunt him as it would her.

  “Mamma,” he said with a happy chortle, scrambling down from Simon’s shoulder to launch himself at her.

  She hugged him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He hardly knew what he had done to escape the schoolroom for a second day, but he was basking in all the attention.

  “You will go with Williams and wash up for luncheon,” Georgiana said, ruffling his dark hair. “Afterward we will play chess together.”

  “Or we could go riding?” Innocent blue eyes, a perfect replica of hers, peered up at her.

  A peculiar feeling swept over her. She had almost lost her precious boy to greed. Fear clutched at her heart, and she took a steadying breath. “Or riding.”

  He grinned then hurried toward his waiting nurse. When they disappeared around the corner, she faced her brother. “We almost lost him.”

  “The thought crossed my mind several times today. Mr. Tremayne must be amply rewarded.”

  Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly turned from her brother’s scrutiny. She strolled to the mantle and poured claret into two glasses and handed one to her brother. “Mr. Tremyane’s reward is one of the reasons I asked you to stay a few days, Simon.”

  He lowered himself onto the sofa and leaned back against the cushion. “I’ve been curious about the deal you brokered.”

  “He requires my aid in launching his eldest sister into society.”

  “Good God, he has a sister?”

  She smiled. “Three.”

  Simon took a sip of his drink, a considering frown on his face. “That was all he asked for?”

  “Yes.”

  “I confess to being surprised. The man is known to have held the entire government to ransom until they agreed to his price for secrets. He could have asked you for so much more.”

  Something inside her chest melted that he hadn’t used their connection for more mercenary means. She was quite aware of the ruthlessness beneath the veneer of a gentleman he presented. So why hadn’t he been more calculating with her? Perhaps he likes me.

  “I find it rather honorable his thoughts were for the betterment of his family.”

  Her brother grunted.

  “I’ve ensured several invitations will be sent to Miss Lydia Tremyane. Lady Beecham’s midnight ball two weeks from today will be a successful crush, and I hope you will attend and single her out for a dance or two. Perhaps you may even lead her in to supper.”

  “Done.”

  “Thank you.”

  A knock sounded on the library door, and a few seconds later, her butler shuffled in at her command to enter.

  “This was just specially delivered for you, Your Grace,” he said, handing her a thick, folded paper.

  “Thank you, Gibbs.”

  With a short bow, he exited. She flipped the letter over. The seal was not one she recognized, and with a frown, she picked up the letter opener and slit the seal.

  Your Grace, the Duchess of Hardcastle,

  I was most prettily beseeched by a dear friend, Mrs. Doretha Tremayne, to invite you to our annual country ball, held at our manor house Stonybrook, in our small but friendly and intimate village in Hastings. I find myself very curious as to the connection between you and Dotty, and I also miss your company dearly. It has been several months since we last spoke. I hope you will honor my viscountess and me with your presence, Georgiana.

  Faithfully,

  Viscount Pottinger

  Georgiana flipped the paper around with a frown. Slowly she sank down into her chair. Rhys’s mother had prevailed upon William for an invitation for her? William Berkeley, Viscount Pottinger, had been a friend of her husband until the viscount’s disgrace. He had become somewhat a misfit among polite society, for he had been outrageous enough to marry his daughter’s governess several years earlier. Hardcastle had been most displeased, but Georgiana had cheered the man silently for pursuing hi
s own happiness. She had encountered him a few times in London since Hardcastle’s death, their exchanges had been warm and polite, but his destroyed reputation had prevented a deeper friendship, though she liked his clever amiability.

  “What is it?” Simon queried.

  “I’ve been invited to a local ball, in Hastings.”

  “Hastings! Good God. By whom? All of our set are in town.”

  At her silence, his brows lowered. “Come now, do not leave me wondering.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s from Lord Pottinger. It seems he was prevailed upon by Mrs. Tremayne to send me an invitiation,” Georgiana said with some amusment, shocked by Mrs. Tremayne’s forwardness but also intrigued. Did the lady wish to meet her? Perhaps her son informed her Georgiana would present her daughter to polite society. Then why not pay a call upon her?

  Incredulity filled Simon’s eyes. “You will of course decline, but do so politely.”

  She leaned back against the high wingback, her gaze unfocused on the wall of books in front of her. Was it that Rhys had prevailed upon his mother to send the invitation, under his guise of discretion? “I believe I shall attend.”

  “Have you lost your senses? You are a duchess; why would you even desire to attend?” he countered in a troubled voice.

  She took a long, fortifying breath. “Because I want to, Simon.”

  “Don’t be silly; people like us don’t simply get to do what we want,” he said flatly. “That family is a family of nobodies. Where would Lord Pottinger even find the gall to send you an invitation? Has he forgotten his disfavor with society?”

  She did not like the cold arrogance in Simon’s mien. It seemed as if everything good and wonderful had been forgotten about the viscount since his marriage. “Would you like to attend with me?”

  Simon glared at her. “Upon my word, you really plan to attend?”

  She replied with a haughty lift of her brow. “Yes, I do.”