“Perhaps we should not—”
But his decisive closing of the door assured her Jamie meant to have this talk immediately. She perched on the edge of a small settee covered in deep blue brocade. At least they would have privacy.
He came to sit beside her and took her hand in his. “Gina, last night was…was …”
“A mistake,” she finished. “I regret putting you in that position. I regret taking advantage—”
“Advantage? You?”
“I…I distinctly remember asking you to find someplace.”
“So that I would not take you against a tree in public. Good God, Gina! I am amazed that you are even speaking to me.”
Confused, she met his gaze for the first time since they’d entered the room and was struck dumb by the depth of passion there.
He squeezed her hand as he continued. “I think we both know we have been moving toward this for quite some time. You cannot deny the physical attraction between us. Given the strength of it, last night was inevitable.”
“Inevitable,” she agreed, “but regrettable.”
“I do not regret it, Gina, though I am sorry to learn that you do. I have never known anything quite like it.”
He seemed to expect some sort of reply, but she was so humiliated that she could not think what precisely. “It…it was lovely,” she said for lack of better words.
“Lovely?” He arched one eyebrow at her as if she’d delivered an insult.
Heat swept over her as she recalled just how lovely it had been. “Ah, quite lovely?”
He stiffened. “I see. Well, I gather I shall have to do better in the future. Which, of course, brings me to the point of this conversation.”
“Yes, please. What is the point?”
“Be my wife, Gina. Marry me as soon as it can be arranged.”
“Marry? You cannot be serious.”
Jamie seemed to lose patience with her reply. He stood and threw his hands up in surrender. “I have never been so serious, nor have I ever had such a difficult time convincing anyone of it. Marriage, Gina, is the logical culmination of our impetuousness last night. It is the most prudent way to solve the attendant problems.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Do you think I begged you so that I could trap you into marriage?”
He paced to the window and back. “Gina, I thought we’d both been swept away in the moment, judgment clouded by passion, as it were. But I begin to think I was the one swept away and that you had some other purpose.”
“I doubt I could have stopped had I the chance. But when it began, when you first kissed me, I wondered …”
“Wondered what? If I had fallen in love with you? If I would make a fool of myself by proposing?”
Oh, she had muddled this whole affair beyond repair. He’d mentioned passion, and being swept away, but he’d never used the words she needed to hear. In the absence of that, the only thing she could give him was the truth. “I was desperate to know if I was a virgin. And I thought I could find out if I just—”
“Just let me make love to you? That’s it? That’s why you asked me to find somewhere private? To find out if you were virgin?”
He looked outraged, as if she’d done something unspeakable. In the face of his anger, she was afraid to speak. She only dared a nod.
He threw his hands in the air again and stalked to the window. “I cannot believe this. Did you ever stop to think that your little experiment would cost you your virtue if you were still intact? “
She nodded again, trying not to think how badly she’d wanted him, how she’d have made the same decision if she hadn’t had that question, or how she’d thought she’d die if he stopped.
Or how deeply she loved him.
“Well, Miss O’Rourke, you are certainly no virgin now. You have been quite thoroughly introduced into the erotic arts. And you have demonstrated an aptitude for it, by the way.” He went to the door as if he were finished with her, then turned around and fixed her with a glare so intense it made her squirm. “Was it worth it?”
She looked down at her feet. How could she answer that? That it had been worth everything she ever hoped to possess in this lifetime to have the memory of him for the rest of her life? That she was glad she would have that little piece of him to take back to Belfast with her? That, if she never married, never had children, she would at least know what it was like to have been loved by Jamie Hunter for the space of an hour?
But what was his answer? Had she been virgin? Or had Mr. Henley defiled her? Dare she ask again? She quietly cleared her throat and clasped her hands together in her lap to still their trembling. “Yes. It was worth it. Whatever your answer, it was worth it.”
“Answer? You want me to tell you if you were a virgin? You do not know? “
Tears sprang to her eyes but she blinked them back quickly. Jamie would think her silly and would not want to see her weakness now. “If you would, please.”
A myriad of emotions passed over his face so quickly that she could not read them all. But the final one, evident as he came toward her, was one of desire. He stopped before her and lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Gina, none of that matters. Can’t you see that? Henley and the others—what they saw, what they did or didn’t do—doesn’t matter. You are who you are, not what someone may or may not have done to you. And you, my dear, are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
“Jamie, that is not an answer.”
“This is the only answer you need.” He leaned forward and fit his lips to hers, cherishing them softly. She responded in the most primitive way, pulling him closer, astounded by the need that single kiss awoke in her. He came down on one knee to meet her on her level and deepen the kiss. She savored his intoxicating heat, losing herself to his passion and her own need.
He pressed her back against the cushioned seat even as he swept one hand down to free one of her breasts from the curve of her bodice and the filmy lawn of her chemise. When he dropped his head to take her into his mouth, she thought she would swoon with the sheer pleasure of it.
She tangled her fingers through his hair and pressed him harder against her, arching to him, desperate for the feel of him there. He did not pause in his ministration as he slipped one hand down to edge beneath her gown and sweep up her thigh.
Her breathing deepened as his bare hand found the soft flesh above her garter and beneath her chemise. His knowing hand found its destination—the small firmed bundle of nerves he had discovered only last night. She gasped and opened her legs to give him better access.
“Jamie …”
“I love the way you say my name when you are about to—”
“Oh!”
He chortled. “That’s it, Gina. Just a little more and …”
She reached for him, wanting to give as much pleasure as she took, but he caught her hand and stayed her.
“Not here, Gina. Not now. Later.”
Then he turned his attention back to her gratification, as if that was all that mattered to him now, and she accepted greedily, wanting even more as he slipped two fingers into her sheath, stroking, curving slightly to find a spot so exquisitely delightful that she nearly fainted with pleasure.
“Stay with me,” he urged, as if he feared she would slip away from him.
“Please,” she sighed, not even knowing what she pleaded for.
But Jamie understood what she did not, quickening his stroke and deepening the pressure until she uttered a soft scream of delight as the world narrowed to her center and then ruptured outward again in radiant heat and light.
“Yes,” he praised. “Burn for me, Gina. Only for me.”
Her breathing evened slowly and her mind cleared of the overwhelming passion. Oh, how could he do this to her? How could he know her body better than she knew it herself and give her such unspeakable pleasure? How could she let him go two days hence, and never know this joy again?
Jamie’s own breathing slowed and he withdrew his hand, smooth
ing her skirts and nuzzling her ear. “You’re like fire, my love. I’ve never known any woman to burn as bright.”
Gina tried to make sense of his words, but all she could think was that he had not found the same release she had. “But you…you did not.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Were we truly private, my love, we would not be finished for hours. As it is, we’ve risked more than we should.”
Heavens! They were at Duchess House. Behind an unlocked door! She stared at the door, fearing it would open any moment and expose their indiscretion. How had she so forgotten herself that she could allow Jamie such intimacies? How could she ever explain such a thing if discovered?
He laughed again, as if reading her mind. “I fear there is no such thing as good sense where passions are concerned. We shall have to be more careful. After we are—”
“We must return to the ballroom before they come looking for us.” She patted her hair into place and smoothed her bodice, knowing there was nothing she could do about the blush that must surely be scarlet by the heat she felt.
“Ah, yes. We would not want them asking questions. At least until I have asked one of my own.”
“Oh! Yes, questions. I completely forgot. I have not had your answer.”
The warm reassuring look on his face faded as if he remembered their earlier argument. “After…that? Your answer is all you care about? That is all you want from me?”
“I…yes.” Did he think she would ask more of him? She only wanted what he would willingly give.
He gave a joyless laugh. “‘Twould serve you right to keep that information to myself.”
“Jamie….”
He held up one hand, palm toward her in a gesture of denial. “No, Gina. Suddenly I am not in an indulgent mood. I’m likely to say nearly anything just to cut you as deeply as you’ve cut me.”
“But—”
“You used me to your own purposes, Gina. Can you blame me if I take a bit of revenge against you?”
“You cannot withhold that information from me. I risked everything to know—”
“I risked more, Eugenia, but I cannot expect you to understand that.” And the parlor door closed behind him.
Jamie stalked back to the ballroom, torn between anger and sympathy. The proposal had not gone even remotely as he’d planned. He’d hoped for a sweetly uttered acceptance, and had been poised to acquire a license to wed at once. He’d even been prepared for refusal and had devised an argument to counter it. But he could never have predicted Gina’s admission that she’d only wanted to test whether she was virgin or not. What utter twaddle! She would not have him? Well and good. He would not trouble her further.
He spied Hortense and Harriett surrounded by beaux, and signaled Charlie to him. “Can you escort the ladies home tonight, Charlie? I find I have other pursuits.”
His brother studied him, then laughed. “Our Miss Eugenia is responsible for this sudden dark mood, is she not?”
“Do not tweak me, Charlie. I am not in a mood for it.” In fact, his body was still throbbing with unrequited lust and his head was filled with the memory of Gina, flushed and dewy from his lovemaking.
Charlie grinned, as if he guessed the reason for Jamie’s ill temper. “Go on to your ‘other pursuits’ then, but leave Suzette alone. She has just warmed up to me, and I do not want her confused in her affections.”
“Suzette is yours,” he growled. “But mind that you do not neglect your duty where Eugenia is concerned. She is still in grave danger.”
“Where did you leave her?”
He pointed down the corridor. “The small parlor.”
Taking the front steps two at a time, he gained the street and hailed one of the hackneys that always waited outside large events such as the one at Duchess House tonight.
As the carriage turned onto Oxford Road, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, revealed through the clinging rain-soaked cape she wore. Missy Metcalfe? Should she not be home in mourning? “Ho, there, driver!” he called.
The carriage stopped and he hopped down with instructions to follow. He caught up to Missy just as she was rounding a corner.
She gasped as he took her elbow and turned her around. “Miss Metcalfe. Are you alone?”
Her eyes widened. “I am going home, Mr. Hunter. I beg you will not tell anyone you saw me.”
“I shan’t. I have a carriage. May I offer you a ride?”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the following carriage. “I do not think so, sir.”
“You should not be out alone after dark, Miss Metcalfe. There are dangers for an unprotected woman.”
A sardonic smile curved her full lips. “Would you be one of them, Mr. Hunter?”
He could scarcely miss that she was flirting with him. Or that he found himself responding after Eugenia’s stinging rebuff. “If encouraged.”
“Then perhaps we should take that carriage.”
Jamie signaled the hackney forward, handed Miss Metcalfe in and followed her, settling himself beside her.
She loosened the strings of the cape around her neck. “Would you mind terribly if we took a turn or two through Hyde Park, Mr. Hunter. I cannot go home too early as my parents might still be up, and they think I have already retired for the night.”
“You pled a headache?” he guessed.
“Mourning,” she replied with a little smirk.
Something about her answer set him on edge. He could not imagine his own sister behaving in such a manner if one of her brothers had been killed less than a week previously. According to the rules of mourning, Missy Metcalfe should not be seen in public for three months, and she should be clothed in dark or drab colors instead of the vivid persimmon she wore now.
“And are you not in mourning, Miss Metcalfe?”
“I am devastated, Mr. Hunter. Simply devastated.”
Clearly an exaggeration if ever he’d heard one. Had there been no love lost between the siblings?
He leaned out the window and called to the driver. “Hyde Park, please, and keep driving until I tell you otherwise.”
“Aye, sir.” The driver laughed and Jamie knew he was thinking that he and Miss Metcalfe would be making the two-backed beast.
“Tell me, Miss Metcalfe, were you and your brother close?”
“As close as some,” she demurred.
“Then I wonder at your being abroad so soon after his death.”
“What good will grieving do Stanley now? If there was a time to help him, it has passed.”
“Help him? Was he in trouble?”
She gave another little smirk as she nestled closer to him. “Enough trouble to get him killed.”
She was a cold little piece. “Do you know who did it?”
“Now why would you ask such a question? If I knew, would I not have told the authorities? “
That would very much depend upon what Missy had to gain. “Unless you were frightened of the consequences,” he suggested.
“I do not frighten easily, Mr. Hunter.”
“I can see that, Miss Metcalfe. I confess to wondering what could have been so important as to bring you out to this particular place at this time.”
She settled back against the cushions and gave him a sultry look. “Perhaps I was looking for excitement.”
She’d been looking for something, or someone, of that he was sure. “At Duchess House?”
She shrugged, allowing her cape to slip open and reveal a very naughty décolletage. He was man enough to avail himself of the view, even if he was not inclined to take advantage of it. Her corset had pushed her breasts high enough that the rosy rims of her areolae were peaking above the lace ruching. An invitation?
“I thought I might recognize someone. Truly, I have been longing to see friends, and craving human contact.” She heaved a sigh and the sleeve of her gown slipped down over her shoulder. She gave him a coy sideways glance from beneath her lowered lashes.
What a coquette! Human contact? Just how m
uch contact did Missy Metcalfe crave? No stranger to flirtation, Jamie was nonetheless at a loss. He’d never been as expertly seduced by courtesans or demireps.
With great difficulty, he forced his mind back to his query. “Looking for anyone in particular, Miss Metcalfe?”
She shrugged again, allowing her sleeve to slip even lower and reveal a small beauty mark above one areola. Artifice? Or natural? “I thought I might find Mr. Booth. Did you see him there, sir? “
Adam Booth? He and Metcalfe had been friends. Wouldn’t Booth be as surprised as Jamie to discover Missy about town alone? Or did Adam have more intimate knowledge of Missy’s true nature?
He smiled down at the pretty girl, so unlike Gina in almost every way that the contrast was startling—and not particularly flattering to Missy. Ah, but Missy appeared to want him, and Gina did not. “I believe I saw him, but I did not have time to talk to him. Did you have business with him?”
“Business?” She gave another of those coy smiles that made him think she was enjoying a personal jest. “I suppose you might call it business. Though my motive was more that I am quite lonely.”
She wiggled closer to him, rubbing her soft breasts against his side and placing her hand on his knee. Very brazen for a girl of Missy’s class. He wondered how much further she’d go with even the tiniest encouragement. “Are you still lonely, Miss Metcalfe?”
She lifted her mouth to him as she slid the hand on his knee upward to cup his erection. Her voice was a purr as she answered. “Oh, I do not think so, Mr. Hunter. No, I think I am about to be quite thoroughly amused.”
The patter of rain against the hackney roof muffled her soft moan.
Chapter Fifteen
The guests laughed at some witticism of Mr. Booth’s and Gina smiled, trying to put the memory of her confrontation with Jamie from her mind. He’d been so angry he’d abandoned their group to Charlie and then disappeared. The mere thought of such a thing caused her to sigh.
“But I see our Miss O’Rourke is not much amused,” Mr. Booth said with a sardonic smile. “I admit my wit is not a universal taste, but I am rarely met with such indifference.”
Gina blinked as attention was shifted to her. “I am sorry, Mr. Booth. My mind was wandering.”
Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) Page 16
