The Road to Scandal is Paved with Wicked Intentions (The May Flowers Book 6)

by Merry Farmer

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she said, starting to lower her head the way he hated. The fact that she stopped herself and looked up at him instead of sinking into her misery was the grandest victory of the evening, as far as Danny was concerned. Everything else paled in comparison.

  “Why don’t you let me worry about my reputation, love,” he said, smiling and willing her to smile as well.

  “All right.” She relaxed into his arms, letting him whirl her around the dance floor.

  He was ready to leave. The ball had accomplished what he needed it to accomplish, and more than anything, he wanted to take Phoebe home. Not to her flat either. He wanted to take her home. With him. Forever.

  But duty and business needed his attention for another hour, and then another one after that. He chatted up as many nobles as he could get to speak with him. He laughed over the progress of their plan with Fergus, Rupert, and his other friends. He noted the way Phineas Mercer continued to watch him and Phoebe, and he wondered whether he would need to drag the man out into the garden to have a serious talk about his intentions.

  All of that faded into unimportance when the clock struck midnight and Phoebe sighed, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted in my life.”

  Danny jumped on the cue. “Then let me take you home,” he said, sliding his hand into hers and escorting her immediately from the ballroom.

  Phoebe went with him willingly, but she glanced repeatedly over her shoulder at the still-active ballroom as they went. “Don’t you want to stay until it’s over? You could speak to more men and win more people over to your cause.”

  “I think I’ve caused enough scandal for one night,” he said, though if he were honest with himself, everything he planned to do next had the potential to cause more scandal by far.

  “Shouldn’t we say goodbye to Lord and Lady O’Shea and thank them for hosting the ball?” Phoebe asked as they neared the door to the hall.

  It was a stroke of luck that Fergus and his lovely wife were still at their posts by the door.

  “Oy, Fergus,” Danny boomed without slowing his steps as he made his exit. “Thank you for the lovely time, but I need to escort Lady Phoebe home so that she’s not accosted by some ill-intentioned miscreant.”

  Fergus sent him a look that said he knew full well Danny was the ill-intentioned miscreant.

  Lines of carriages were waiting in front of Hopewell House to take guests home. Danny helped Phoebe into one, giving the driver directions home. He and Phoebe spent the short ride poring over the events of the evening and assessing Danny’s chances of winning the development contract away from Cosgrove as a result. Danny could hardly focus on business, though. Now that they were alone in a quiet carriage, he drank in all the details of Phoebe that he hadn’t had the time to appreciate earlier—the way the pink of her new gown accentuated the honey-blond of her hair, the softness of her skin where its neckline swooped low, the way she smelled of flowers and spice. Everything he hadn’t had time to notice before flooded in on him at once.

  When the cab stopped between The Watchman and the flats, he all but leapt out and helped Phoebe down. He paid the driver far more than the trip cost, took Phoebe’s hand, and sped her into the building.

  “I think I’ll be able to sleep for a decade after a night light like that,” Phoebe laughed lightly as they started up the stairs. “It’s a blessing I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

  “You don’t?” Danny’s heart sped up as they climbed higher, toward his flat.

  “No, I asked permission to switch my shift to another—wait.” She attempted to tug him to a stop as they passed the second-floor hall. “My flat is down this way.”

  “But mine is up another flight,” he said, glancing to her with heated mischief in his eyes.

  “Oh.” Deep color flushed Phoebe’s face. Knowing filled her eyes. But instead of demanding he stop and return her safely to her mother and their flat, she continued on with him.

  Chapter 11

  Every last ounce of Phoebe’s exhaustion vanished in an instant as she let Danny lead her up the stairs to the third-floor, then down the hall to his flat. She went from aching for sleep to aching for an entirely different reason so quickly that her head spun and her heart seemed ready to beat out of her throat.

  “You’re about to see something that few others have seen before,” Danny told her with a mischievous flicker of one eyebrow, fishing a key out of his pocket and unlocking the door.

  “Oh,” Phoebe said. The single syllable was filled with a wealth of emotions she couldn't begin to describe. Had few people truly seen his flat? If so, did that mean women too.

  He pushed open the door and drew her inside.

  “Oh,” she breathed, brimming with an entirely different set of emotions as she glanced around the spacious main room of the flat.

  His flat was twice the size of the one where she and her mother lived, and possibly more. The front room was decorated with an understated elegance that Phoebe would have expected to find in the townhouse of a titled lord. The furnishings were sumptuous, but simple, displaying excellent craftsmanship more than ostentatious cost. They were costly, though. The windows, which looked out to the street, were hung with rich, blue drapes tied back with gold cords. A bookshelf stood against the wall facing them, and unlike the shelves of so many of the noblemen she’d known, it was actually filled with books. Though Danny had a curio displaying interesting, foreign-looking objects and several pieces of art as well.

  “What do you think?” he asked, his accent particularly low and his grin teasing. “Will it do?”

  Phoebe spun in a circle. Her thoughts twirled with her. She’d underestimated Danny in ways she was only beginning to understand. She finished her turn by facing him, wonder in her eyes as she reassessed everything she thought she knew about him.

  “You are more than just a pub owner and property developer, aren’t you?” she asked, a little too breathless for her liking.

  “No,” he said with an honest shrug. “That is what I am. I own a pub. I develop properties. I own land and buildings.” He inched closer to her, the heat of admiration for her in his eyes.

  “But, surely—” She couldn’t think of anything to follow those words. Shame for not knowing more about the world of property development wriggled in her gut. She suddenly felt like the worst sort of fool for assuming that wealth came only with title or industry. And clearly, Danny had wealth.

  “Do I meet with your approval?” he asked, stepping closer to her still. “Or am I just a silly fool who caused a scene at a ball and who enjoys thumbing his nose at the nobs.”

  A tremor started deep within Phoebe’s gut that spread quickly through her, like warm honey. “Can it be both?” she asked, surprised by her daring. Something about Danny urged her to be bold, though, as if he demanded she meet his level of temptation. She’d never met anyone as magnificent or alluring as Daniel Long in her entire life.

  He closed the last of the distance between them, slipping his hand around to the small of her back and tugging her tight against him in a possessive gesture that came close to making Phoebe forget her name. “Love, it can be anything you want,” he said in a deep, rich voice.

  He leaned into her, tilting her chin up with his free hand and slanting his mouth over hers. His lips felt so good against hers that she knew in an instant she wouldn’t resist anything he wanted from her. Indeed, she would embrace it, just as she raised her arms to embrace him. His tongue brushed along the seam of her mouth, teasing her into opening for him. As his tongue invaded her, claiming her as his own, she made a sound of surrender.

  “God,” he breathed heavily. “You make the most amazing sounds. They make me want to do wicked things to you.”

  As far as Phoebe was concerned, the wickedness wasn’t in her sounds, it was in his voice. He was a rogue and a devil, and she was about to give him everything.

  She lifted to her toes and pressed her mouth inexpertly against his. He made a
sound of approval and held her tighter, taking command of their kiss and molding his lips against hers. He knew what they were doing so much better than she did, but all she wanted to do was learn from him.

  He pulled back suddenly, sucking in an unsteady breath. “Are you certain,” he whispered. “Are you absolutely certain?”

  “Of?” she asked, drinking in the sight of his kiss-reddened lips, unsure if she would ever be able to form a coherent thought again.

  “That you want this,” he said. “That you want me.”

  The implied question was so much more serious than anything anyone had ever asked her. It wasn’t just a flippant inquiry into whether she wanted to go to bed with him. He was giving her a choice in her own life, in her own fate. If she gave in to him, there would be no going back. He was leaving the decision of whether she wanted to change her life irreversibly to her.

  “God, yes,” she said with passion, throwing herself into another kiss.

  Whether he knew how important the moment between them was or not, he responded enthusiastically, kissing her again with abandon. He moved with her toward an open doorway to one side of the room, maneuvering them both expertly through and into a finely-appointed bedroom. Phoebe didn’t have the wherewithal to take in all of the details, but she noted that the predominant color of the room was blue, and that the enormous bed in the center of the room looked like something Henry VIII would have had in his bedchamber.

  Even those thoughts fled her mind as Danny grabbed the shoulder of her gown and tugged it down so that he could kiss her neck and shoulder. Phoebe had never had a man’s mouth anywhere close to that part of her before, and even though it was just her shoulder, the way he kissed and nibbled her sent electric jolts of excitement through her.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Danny murmured as he continued to kiss her, his hands reaching behind her back in search of the fastenings of her ball gown. “I have wanted to ravish you from the moment I first met you.”

  Phoebe was touched that he had wanted her so much and for so long, but she was completely incapable of speech. Particularly when he inched her bodice down far enough to slide a hand between the fabric and her skin to cradle her breast. She gasped and shivered at the sensation, suddenly wishing her lovely new gown, which she had adored when she put it on for the first time earlier that day, didn’t exist.

  As fast as that thought came to her, Danny withdrew his hand and turned her so that he could speed through undoing the fastenings at the back of her gown in earnest.

  “If I rip it, I’m sorry,” he said, desire and mischief mingling in his deep voice.

  “I don’t care,” she panted. “Just get it off.”

  Danny laughed at that and pulled at the two sides of her bodice, sending pearl buttons flying. He worked fast to loosen the entire thing enough to push it down past Phoebe’s hips. The whole thing pooled on the floor around her feet, several seams probably ripped in the process.

  Danny didn’t stop there. He lifted her right out of the pile of her gown and set her down on the edge of his bed. He took a moment to remove his jacket and waistcoat and to toe off his shoes, but that seemed to be the extent of his patience. He surged over her, causing her to spill back onto his bed, and kissed her passionately. His mouth was magical, as far as Phoebe was concerned. He showed her what mouths were for and why God had invented lips and tongues. She could have lay there letting him kiss her for hours and been perfectly content.

  But there was more to learn, more that she could feel Danny wanted from her. He moved his hands to the hooks of her corset, working it open and spreading it to the side so that he could stroke his hands across her belly and breasts—over the thin fabric of her chemise at first, and then under it, his hands against her bare skin. Phoebe sighed at the pleasure his touch gave her, wriggling inside and out with an urgency she didn’t entirely understand.

  “I am going to ravish you like no woman ever has been before,” he rumbled, kissing the heated flesh of her belly as he drew her chemise up. “You won’t know what to do with yourself when I’m done.”

  “I don’t know what to do with myself now,” she panted, rubbing her legs together restlessly.

  “Then let me show you, love,” he said, taking hold of her thighs to stop her impatient movements.

  He nudged her thighs apart, slipping a hand between the split in her drawers. She gasped hard as his fingers brushed the most intimate part of her. A light of victory came to his eyes as he explored her, tracing circles around that wet part of her and opening her in the most intimate way. It was shockingly intimate, but at the same time, nothing had ever felt more perfect. She let out a plaintive sigh as he slipped a finger inside of her, and then another, but it was when he danced his thumb across her clitoris that she let out a cry of pure, carnal shock and excitement.

  “Dear God,” he murmured, shaken himself. “You want it.”

  It was almost as though he were speaking in a sort of code that was only just being revealed to her, but she understood everything he meant. The sensations he drew out in her were so potent and overwhelming that she felt as though she were about to lose herself. But at the same time, she wanted to lose herself. Instinct told her that losing herself to him would be the greatest gift she could possibly give him.

  He continued to tease and stroke her intimately. The flash in his eyes was almost as if he were daring her to become herself and testing himself to see how far he would take things. And mad though it felt, all Phoebe wanted to do was please him, which proved easy to do as the sensations he pulled from her had her completely in his thrall.

  She felt as though she were about to drown for a moment as her whole body wound tight with tension, then burst into pleasure so new and intense that she cried out with it. Danny cursed passionately as she did, his touch intensifying, as if he could draw the sensations on and on for both of their benefit. Even after the initial burst subsided, leaving her feeling as though she were floating on a cloud of pleasure, she was happy.

  “I knew you would be an angel,” he said in a rough voice, pulling back enough to finish undressing himself.

  Phoebe caught her breath as she watched him pull his shirt over his head, then unfasten his trousers. The tension and tremors that whatever he had done to her had satisfied swirled back through her as he shed the rest of his clothes, then stood naked before her. He was the picture of masculinity, all hard lines and strong planes, with a tantalizing spread of dark hair over his chest and belly. But it was the firm spear of his penis, standing at attention in a way none of the statues she’d seen at London’s museums ever had, that caught her attention.

  “I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he said with sudden tenderness, leaning in to remove the last of her clothes. “And if it hurts, it’ll only be for a moment.”

  A rush of trepidation shook Phoebe. As beautiful as he was, she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t intimidated. He seemed far too large for her body, no matter how glorious he’d just made her feel.

  But she’d told him she wanted him, and she refused to let herself back away now. She still wanted him. Intimidation hadn’t changed that.

  He seemed to sense her thoughts.

  “Frightened?” he asked with a teasing grin as he joined her on the bed, throwing back the bedcovers and repositioning both of them so that her head rested on his pillows.

  “A little,” she admitted, lowering her eyes.

  “Well, you should be,” he said in a mock villainous voice. “Because I’m about to do very, very bad things to you.”

  Phoebe laughed. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d tried. He was teasing her to put her at ease, which was the dearest thing imaginable, as far as she was concerned.

  “You’ve already done very, very bad things to me,” she told him with a grin of her own.

  “Not like I’m about to, love,” he said. He nudged her legs apart, reaching down to hook his hand under one of her knees and to bring he
r thigh up to his hip. “You have no idea what naughtiness I have in mind for the two of us,” he growled, stealing a kiss as he adjusted himself to fit tighter against her. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have been converted into such a wanton that the newspapers will print scandalous stories about you.” He stole another kiss.

  Phoebe giggled, her already satisfied body warming and loosening even more for him. She circled her arms around his back, pressing her fingertips into his muscles.

  He kissed her lips, her neck, her shoulder, then her lips again. “I’m going to use you in such wicked ways that you won’t be able to—”

  He pushed into her with a firm and decisive stroke, taking her completely by surprise. Phoebe gasped at the quick shock of pain, as if something inside of her had torn free, but it happened so fast and she’d been so distracted by his teasing that she hadn’t had time to panic. The sensation of him filling her, almost past a point she thought she could tolerate, was erotic and amazing. And Lord help her, but she liked it.

  Danny’s silliness became smoldering purpose in an instant. He moved gently inside of her at first, giving her body a chance to adjust to his. “You all right, love?” he murmured against her ear as he moved.

  Phoebe had the distinct impression he was holding back. She nodded, making a high, squeaking sound and digging her fingers harder into his back.

  “It’ll feel much better in a moment,” he promised her, then increased the intensity of his movements.

  He was absolutely right. The more she adjusted to him, the better it felt. Her tension drained away, and as it did, he moved faster and more intently. Which made it even better for her. Within seconds, the cycle of passion came around to the point where she was sighing and mewling in time to each of his thrusts as they gained in intensity, and before long, she was teetering on the brink of another, miraculous orgasm.

  She came apart with a cry, clenching around him. He matched her cry, and all sense that he was holding back vanished. With a few more thrusts, his whole body went tense, and he let out a cry that was as beautiful as it was raw. Phoebe knew enough to know he’d spilled his very soul inside of her, and as dangerous as that was, she loved it. She would remember the moment for the rest of her life.