by Robyn DeHart
“You’ve always been good at that,” she said.
“What?”
“Schooling your features so that your opponent cannot tell if your hand is good or not.”
“You do the same. Your face is indiscernible as well.”
“I should probably thank you for teaching me that. It is a skill that has come in handy a time or two outside of the game,” she said.
His brows rose. “Indeed?”
“Wilbur Riggins.”
“The Riggins live in the cottage down from Chanceworth Hall,” Roe said.
“Precisely. Their son. He’s been sweet on me for years. Proposed on more than one occasion. Hiding my true feelings was a skill I was quite grateful for in those instances. I never wanted to offend him.”
Roe chuckled. “Glad I could be of assistance.” He took a card, then flipped his over. Nineteen. She smiled broadly as she turned her hand over.
“Twenty. I win. Your turn to take something off.”
He loosened the cravat at his throat, and slipped that off. “I hate those bloody things.”
“Why wear them then?”
“I am a gentleman. It is what we do. We wear cravats, and eat at our clubs, and spend our lives lazing about enjoying our money.”
It was Roe’s typical tone, his sardonic words that spoke of indulgence, but there was something more there. Something deeper and more honest.
“You don’t have to live that way. Certainly there are other gentlemen who do other things with their lives.” She tried desperately to ignore the swatch of chest showing now that his shirt was unbuttoned.
“Ah, but they are mere barons and viscounts.”
Mere barons. Like her father had been. Even Roe himself knew there was a difference between them. But she shook it off. “Not lofty dukes.”
He smiled at her, gesturing toward her with his glass. “Precisely.” He took the cards from her.
“You could do wonderful things with your money. There are so many areas that need changing here in London.”
“Are you suggesting I could become the Benevolent Duke?”
“It is a thought. Could be more entertaining than the alternative. I know it’s not at all something your father would do, or other dukes for that matter.”
“Interesting. A philanthropic noble. I could get use to such a notion.”
They played several more hands in silence, taking turns passing the deal back and forth. Unfortunately, after Roe lost his shirt, she lost count of the cards. She lost three hands in a row and in doing so lost her stockings and then her trousers, so she sat in her undergarments and the overly long shirt.
As she’d peeled off the trousers, Roe’s eyes had darkened as he watched her. If he knew she was seducing him, he never said anything. Perhaps he thought he could resist her. Perhaps he could resist her. She took a seat, crossed her bare legs over each other. Roe’s eyes slid down the length of her.
“I do love those legs,” he said absently.
She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to prance across the room and give him a good long look. Or perhaps she should simply climb up on the table and give him an up close look.
They made their way to the end of the deck and she was able to shuffle. Now she could keep a better count of what was going on with the cards. She doubted it, though. After Roe had lost two hands in a row—purely by luck, as her skill had seemed to disappear completely—he’d removed his boots, and something about the sight of his bare toes had her curling her own. Damnation, but he was so attractive. She wanted nothing more than to go and straddle him across his chair. Her cheeks flamed at the thought.
His eyebrow rose. “Do I want to know what you were just thinking about?”
She released a slow breath. “Probably not. I think I might need to suspend the game for a moment.” She set the cards down and picked up her glass, padded her way across the room to refill her drink.
She took a sip, then turned to face him. “Do you want some?”
“You have no idea.”
…
She was ridiculously seductive. He watched her saunter back to the table, padding over in her bare feet, her long glorious legs, that linen shirt hanging down just passed her bottom. Her bare bottom, he knew because she’d lost her drawers already. He never would have thought a woman could look that attractive in a man’s shirt, but she did. She looked utterly irresistible.
He’d intended to simply tell her about his plans once they returned tonight, but then she’d wanted to play. And her delicious idea about playing cards for clothes.
He knew he should have refused, should have been stronger and done things the right way, but, hell, a man could take only so much. If he was going to marry her, he might as well let her seduce him. He’d wanted her in his bed since the moment he first kissed her.
“Does it not concern you that I dallied with another woman while I was supposedly wooing Penelope for marriage?” he asked abruptly.
She sat back down. “Not particularly. You weren’t married yet, you weren’t even engaged, so it doesn’t seem like the gravest of sins. And you did not bed her, you merely, what kissed her?”
Her words were like balm to his burning skin providing just enough hope for him to grab onto. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he wouldn’t turn out like his father, though that certainly seemed unlikely. In any case, he needed to get his mind back on the cards before he admitted any of his other sins.
“You need a pause? I was just warming up,” he said.
Challenge flashed in her eyes. “Intermission is over.” She nodded toward the cards. “Deal the hand.”
His lips quirked in a smile. She was fascinating, he couldn’t deny that. Sweet, smart, and lovely Caroline, and she would be his. His want for her surged through his veins. He needed to keep his desire in check. She wanted to seduce him, and he would allow her to do so. He dealt the cards, then checked his own hand. He flipped both cards over to show her.
“Perfect hand. Guess I win,” he said with a grin.
Her lips parted, then she looked from his cards to his face. “I don’t have much else to take off.”
“The shirt.” He knew it would leave her in nothing but the linen binding her perfect breasts.
Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips and his abdomen tightened in response. She took a deep breath and stood to her feet. With painfully slow precision, she undid each button. The shirt gaped first at her shoulder, then down to her flat stomach, and then it slid off her and fell in a heap on the floor. That scrap of linen hid her breasts from his view, but the rest of her was gloriously illuminated by the firelight behind her.
“This might be my favorite way to play this game.”
She tilted her head. “I’m not certain it would go over well at Rodale’s.” She gave him a grin, but made no move to return to her seat. Instead she stood before him, a goddess come to life.
“Yes, and I have no desire to see those men without their trousers.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Lord Drake seemed as if he might have a nice pair of legs,” she said.
“Come here,” he said, holding his hand out to her.
She walked to him, and her beautiful brown hair fell down her back in a cascade of silk. It framed her face, teased at her shoulder, and no doubt tickled the top of her bottom. She took his hand.
“Take that off,” he said motioning to the linen covering her breasts.
She did as he bade, slowly unwrapping the fabric. When it fell away, he could clearly see the indentions in her flesh from the tightly wrapped material.
“This simply won’t do,” he said. He pulled her to him and she straddled his lap. He smoothed a finger over the mark on her skin. “Promise me you’ll never bind your breasts again. It is such a pity to hide such beauty.” He leaned forward and kissed the mark. He followed it across the top of her breasts.
He grabbed her legs and pulled her forward so she was further on his lap, his erection pressed against his trousers, and he k
new she could feel the hard ridge of him beneath her. She moved against him, her eyes widening, her lips parting.
She leaned forward and kissed him. He could turn away from her, hurt her once more and prevent himself from hurting her again and again as his wife. But damn, she felt so good pressed against him and frankly he’d never been much for convention. Perhaps he would disparage his father’s memory by becoming a good husband. With that thought he threaded his fingers through the back of her silky soft hair and pulled her closer. He deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth to him, and their tongues molded against each other.
Lust forged through him.
Her fingers dug into his arm, and she released small sounds of pleasure as she continued to grind herself against him. Still they kissed, their lips melded together, their tongues intertwined. She drove him wild. Her touch, her taste, the feel of her on top of him. He wouldn’t be able to stand her sweet torture much longer.
He left her mouth and kissed the column of her throat, her pulse leapt beneath this tongue. She moaned again. He slid his hand up her torso and cupped her breast. Her nipple beaded between his fingers. Caroline arched into his touch. He kissed her again. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, pressing herself further onto him. She wanted him. The notion was heady and intoxicating. He reached down between them. He brushed lightly across the apex of her legs, and she released a primal groan of desire. His own need poured through his veins and settled heavily in his groin.
He found his way to her entrance, where her flesh was hot and slick with her need, and she trembled when his fingers brushed against her. She continued to moan softly. He continued his exploration.
He slipped one finger inside her and slowly began his rhythm. Her pleasure mounted as he moved his finger within her. He found the nub beneath her folds and stroked across it. Her mouth fell open, her eyes squeezed shut, and she arched toward him giving him perfect access to her breasts. He leaned forward, put his mouth on her, and kissed her breasts, laving his tongue across her nipple.
Closer and closer he brought her to the edge, then he would pull back. She was fascinating to watch. Undoubtedly, she was the most passionate woman he’d ever touched, and he longed to be inside her. His own desire was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. So he kissed her deeply, then he leaned back as best he could to watch her climax.
His finger dipped in again as he flicked across her folds. She tightened around his finger as the pleasure shot through her. “Roe,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Quickly he unfastened his trousers and guided himself into her before her climax subsided. She sucked in her breath and opened her eyes. He found himself lost in their chocolate-brown depths as he pushed himself deeper into her. Oh God, she felt good. Hot, tight, and so slick.
Her climax started again, and her walls squeezed around his shaft as he increased the depth of his thrusts. And then as his own release rocked through his body, he released a primal moan that matched hers and collapsed against her.
…
Caroline hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep until she woke to the feel of Roe’s hands on her body. She smiled and stretched, a contented cat after a nap in the sunshine.
“Such scandalous things I want to do to you,” he said, his voice deep and seductive.
Her heart beat an uneven rhythm. “Is that so? Such as?”
“This,” he said. Then he put his mouth to her breast and tortured her tender skin with scandalous kisses. She clutched his shoulders.
“Yes, that is quite scandalous,” she managed to say.
“And this.” He moved one finger and slid it around the nub hidden between her folds. He made wickedly slow circles until she cried out.
“You are a wicked man, Monroe Grisham.”
“But even more than those things, I want to do this.” He slid down her body, leaving a trail of heat with his tongue and then he found her center with his mouth.
Oh, good heavens, what his mouth was doing to her. It was hard to determine precisely where his tongue was as the pleasure was too intense and spreading through her so rapidly. She arched against him and lifted one of her legs to brace it on his shoulder. That simple movement drew his mouth closer, his tongue deeper, and she thought she’d go mad from the torturous pleasure.
As his tongue laved across that little nub, his finger slid back inside her and her muscles contracted in response. The feelings intensified and she knew her release was near. She could feel it rising and building until she was certain she would explode into tiny pieces at any moment. And then it crashed into waves and waves of pleasure that rocketed through her as she clutched at his hair. He kissed her tenderly on the thigh, then slid up her body. He looked up at her, a wicked grin on his face. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”
There was so much promise in that one statement and it filled her heart with so much hope. She knew it was futile, still for tonight she’d cling to it, to the hope that there might be a tomorrow for her and Roe.
…
He knew before he’d decided to bed her that he would marry her. He couldn’t not marry her. He’d ruined her. But more than that, it had come to the point where he wouldn’t trust her safety and care to anyone else. He supposed there were worse things that could happen, but for the first time since Caroline had become his ward, Roe was nearly thankful that Christopher was dead. They’d been good friends, but he felt certain he’d never intended for Roe to marry Caroline himself.
Now Roe needed to let his mother know so she could begin making the preparations. Caroline deserved the big wedding with the big party, not a quiet ceremony meant to hide her. She was to be his duchess, so she should be introduced as such.
After the first time they made love, Roe brought Caroline up to his room, to his bed where he thoroughly scandalized her. Two more times. He left her sleeping soundly in his bed and now was in search of his mother. He found her in the dining room eating her breakfast. “Good morning, Monroe. I was not aware that you arose this early.” She frowned. “Imagine, two breakfasts together since I arrived in London. I was not even aware you ate breakfast.”
“On occasion.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from her. “Well, Mother, you shall finally get your wish.”
She chewed thoughtfully and then took a sip of her tea. “And which wish is that?”
“You have a wedding to plan.” When she said nothing but merely raised her eyebrows, he added, “My wedding.”
Her smile nearly blinded him. She clapped her hands together. “You finally asked Caroline? I am so very pleased.”
“Wait, how the devil did you know it was Caroline?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Roe, you’ve had eyes for that girl for years. Hell, you even courted a girl who looked like Caroline.”
Penelope. Damn if she hadn’t haunted his life lately like an unwanted ghost. Had that been why he pursued her to begin with? Certainly he’d noticed the similarities between the women. They favored one another, he recognized that.
“I know she’s been sweet on you. About time you two realized how you felt. A better match I haven’t seen in years. This is just positively splendid.”
“Feelings have nothing to do with this. I’ve taken liberties with her.” He took a deep breath. “I’d really prefer not to discuss the specifics with my mother, but suffice it to say things have transpired that cannot be undone. A wedding is our only recourse.” And he wanted to make certain he could protect her, keeping her here with him was the only way to do so.
“Is that how you proposed to her?”
He sipped at his coffee. “I haven’t asked her yet.”
She frowned. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Monroe, I should think I raised you better than that. I will not plan one single thing until you talk to Caroline herself.”
“Talk to Caroline about what?” His would-be bride stood in the doorway looking fresh-faced and far more rested than he knew she was. She was beautiful. “Tel
l me what, Roe?” she repeated.
He scowled at his mother who blinked at him innocently. “We shall marry.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose you think I should be thrilled that you’ve demanded I marry you.”
“I thought it was what you wanted. To be my duchess.”
She rolled her eyes, looking exasperated. “Apparently what I want means nothing to you.”
“We have no choice, Caroline, I have ruined you. It is what must be done.”
“That’s why my efforts last night,” she eyed Millie, then swallowed. “That’s why I succeeded last night. You’d already decided on this, hadn’t you?”
“Caroline, it matters not. It is done. Now, there is no time for a proper courtship and wooing. Besides certainly you realize that I would be dreadful at such things.”
“I’m not asking you to court me, Roe. And since when do you give a fig about the right thing to do?” She practically stomped her foot. “You revel in defiling your title and doing as little as possible. Seducing an innocent shouldn’t be too far out of the expectations of the ton.” Then she glanced at Millie who sat at the table looking thoroughly entertained. “My apologies, Millie.”
“Don’t mind me,” his mother said. “Carry on. I’m merely here eating my breakfast.”
“Caroline,” Roe said. “I made promises to Christopher to take care of you and though I don’t think he meant this particular scenario, I will not go back on that promise. We will marry and you and Mother can plan everything.” He looked at his mother again. “Spare no expense. Caroline deserves the very best wedding since she’s getting me as a husband.” He stepped out of the room.
Well, that had gone splendidly.
Chapter Fifteen
“That was most assuredly the worst proposal I’ve ever heard,” Millie said once Roe left the room.
“Indeed.” It was the only thing Caroline could muster. She had longed to hear those words come from Roe. She’d had one imagining after another about how he would propose, how he’d get down on one knee and tell her that he’d finally come to his senses, realized that he couldn’t live without her. She’d imagined plenty of romantic scenarios like that, but never once had it gone like that. There were no declarations of love, only talk of practicality and duty. And she knew that she was doomed. She would never forget about her feelings for Roe being his wife. She’d only grow more and more in love with him, and it would be her demise. After all, she was the daughter of a mere baron.
