The Irresistible Rogue

by Valerie Bowman

  He eyed her warily. “What are you doing?”

  “Something I meant to finish last time.” She shimmied down his body, her mouth heading for his cock.

  “No, Daphne, I—”

  She smiled against his taut abdomen. “There’s no use arguing with me. You know how stubborn I am.”

  Rafe considered it for a moment. The lady had a point. The moment her sweet lips touched him, he knew he had already lost the argument. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his hands tangling in her lush hair.

  She bent and allowed her lips to cover him entirely, then pulled herself back up and did it again and again. Rafe was mindless in seconds.

  “It’s too good. I—” He tried to pull her up by the shoulders but Daphne slid out of his reach, her mouth still on him.

  “Please,” he groaned.

  She pulled her lips off him for a moment but squeezed him and Rafe groaned again. “Let me do this, Rafe. I want to see what happens if I don’t stop.”

  Her lips were on him again, driving him mad, his hips moved against her mouth, matching her rhythm, his hand guiding the back of her head. Sweet holy God. His wife was a temptress.

  She sucked him hard and Rafe growled. “Daphne, have a care, love. You’re my wife. I can’t spill my seed in your mouth.”

  He was still in her mouth when she grinned up at him. The only word he could use to describe her grin was devilish. She pulled her mouth away momentarily. “Why not? I told you. I like adventure.”

  Without pausing to argue with him more, Daphne took his cock in her mouth again. She sucked with perfect pressure and Rafe’s eyes rolled back in his head. “God, Daphne, I—” She grabbed his balls and pressed the base of them in a spot that made his hips arch off the mattress. He was panting. “Jesus, Daphne, if you don’t stop, I’m going to—” She sucked him then, her mouth moving back and forth, and Rafe had no time to pull her away. Breathless and mindless, he released his seed deep into his wife’s throat.

  He looked up at her with eyes hazy with love, and lust, and surprise. She swallowed and wiped her hand against the back of her mouth and gave him a victorious grin.

  Rafe struggled to catch his breath. He let his head drop back against the pillows. “I nev … I never felt anything li—like that before.”

  She lowered herself down to curl against him. “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “I’m entirely serious. What the hell was in the pamphlet you read?”

  Daphne leaned against his chest and giggled. “It’s a secret.”

  She traced her fingers along his chest, down his abdomen and lower. His erection was back. It had only been mere moments since his orgasm but Rafe was already hard for her again. He pulled her hand around him. “That was … amazing, but I want to make love to you, Daphne. Make you my wife.”

  She smiled against his shoulder. “You already have.”

  He kissed her hair. “This time I need to tell you how much I love you while I’m deep inside of you.”

  A thrill shot through Daphne’s body. Rafe’s hands found her breasts again and within just a few moments she was mindless with wanting him all over again. He knew just where to touch, what to suck, where to press. He had such power over her body—she closed her eyes—and it was delightful.

  Rafe pushed her onto her back and rolled atop her. She welcomed his wonderful heavy weight. He pulled her hands up above her head and pinned them there. “Let me make you feel good again.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Rafe kissed her lips, her neck, her collarbone. He skimmed his teeth along the plump edge of her breast and nipped at her nipples. She arched her back, the spot between her legs wet and wanting. His hair-roughened thigh nudged between her legs and pushed her knees apart. She welcomed it. He slid inside her with one sure, hot thrust. She gasped against his mouth.

  Then her husband began to move. He slid in and out, his thrusts matching the beats of her heart. “I love you,” he breathed, sweat beading on his brow. “I love you.” Each thrust was another promise, another declaration. With her hands still pinned helplessly above her head, he moved his hips and his shaft pressed against a tender spot inside her that made Daphne cry out. Amazingly, she slid into another release, pressing her wrists against his hands and calling his name.

  Rafe pumped into her one last deep time. He released her wrists and she wrapped her arms fiercely around his neck. “I love you, Daphne,” he breathed, and she knew a moment of profound contentment holding her husband in her arms.

  It was several minutes before Daphne floated back to reality from the haze in which the only thing that existed was her husband’s body and the way he made her feel. Rafe was still hovering over her, pushing the tendrils of hair from her face and kissing her mouth in that sensuous way of his.

  “Tell me something,” she said.

  “Anything, my love.”

  “Why did you pick Thomas Grey as my name?”

  “So I could call you Grey, of course.”

  She blinked. “But why?”

  “Because of your pretty eyes.”

  Daphne couldn’t help her smile. “Is that so? I never suspected a thing.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” He kissed her forehead.

  He moved to the side, taking her with him, and Daphne traced a finger along his muscular chest. “But it’s not as if I’m perfect. It’s as you said. I’ve always had my family fix everything for me. That won’t happen again. From now on I intend to handle everything myself. Starting with telling Julian that we’re married and we intend to remain that way. I can handle things myself.”

  Rafe rested his chin on the top of her head. “You proved that you can handle things yourself when you were abducted, when you stowed away on the boat, when you stood up to me and my stubborn refusal to see that I needed you, and finally when you held those men at gunpoint. Well done, Grey.” He kissed the top of her head.

  Daphne tipped her head back and smiled up at him. “I told them I’m a crack shot.”

  Rafe snorted. “I’m glad they didn’t ask you to prove it.”

  “So am I. I’d already thrown the only knife I had. I’m glad you and Salty and Grim came soon after. I needed you, too.”

  He pressed a kiss to her temple. “We need each other, love. You’ve always been there for me when I’ve needed you. I learned that today.”

  “And that you cannot live the rest of your life with the guilt about Donald,” Daphne added.

  “That, too.” He hugged her close. “I’m certain Upton will be pleased to hear that he was correct.”

  Daphne wrapped an arm around Rafe’s shoulder. “I learned something today as well.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That being the opposite of tall isn’t such a curse after all. I’ll never complain about it again. Michel’s knife sailed entirely over my head.”

  He squeezed her to him fiercely. “Thank God you’re short. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been hurt.”

  “Yes, I suppose I must be grateful for it now. Even if it does make getting things down from the top of the wardrobe difficult.”

  Rafe’s laughter filled the room. “You are adorable and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. “I love you, Daphne Cavendish, my wife.”

  Daphne sighed and kissed him back. “And I love you, Rafe Cavendish, my husband.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  One week later The Earl of Swifdon’s town house, Hanover Square

  With Cass and Lucy’s help, Daphne had managed to arrange another ball at her brother’s town house. They’d planned it before she’d left to find Rafe on the sloop. Dressed in a bright pink gown with a matching topaz necklace glimmering at her throat, she stood at the top of the stairs waiting for Pengree to announce her to the crowd inside the ballroom just beyond the double doors. She pressed a gloved hand to her middle where her insides quaked w
ith nerves.

  “I feel as if I’m going to be sick,” Daphne murmured.

  “Well, you look gorgeous, dear,” Cass said from beside her. Cass was wearing a light blue gown with white trim. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Daphne smiled at her lovely sister-in-law.

  “Oh, please tell me I may throw rose petals at your wedding, Cousin Daphne,” Delilah said, spinning around in a circle beside her. The girl was wearing a bright yellow ribbon on the top of her head and a matching golden gown. Her governess, one in a long string of ladies who became too exasperated with her antics to remain, had just given her notice. As a result, Delilah was quite unchaperoned this evening and she’d managed, as usual, to talk her aunt into allowing her to sneak down to the ballroom.

  “I promise you may throw rose petals at our wedding ceremony¸” Daphne replied, smiling at the child.

  “Not just any rose petals. Pink and white ones. Pink and white are the only sort of rose petals to throw at weddings. They are trés romantic,” Delilah gushed.

  Daphne shook her head. Now her twelve-year-old cousin was an expert at weddings? “Very well, pink and white,” Daphne replied.

  Cass laughed.

  Rafe came sliding through the corridor, slightly out of breath. He stopped at Daphne’s side and gave her a peck on the cheek. He wore impeccably tailored black evening clothes and a starchy white cravat that set off the bright blue of his eyes. Daphne’s heart swelled. He was so handsome, her husband.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” he breathed to Daphne, squeezing her hand as Pengree eyed the couple up and down.

  “Bonsoir, Capitaine,” Delilah said, giving him her most formal curtsy. “There shall be pink and white rose petals at your wedding ceremony.”

  Rafe’s brow furrowed. He glanced at Daphne. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, ignore her. Did you talk to Julian?”

  “Not yet but he agreed to meet with me in his study later.”

  “Well, he can’t very well say no after we do this.” Daphne nodded toward the doors in front of them where they could hear the crowd in the ballroom.

  “Ready, my lady?” Pengree asked, tugging on the lapels of his livery.

  “Ready!” Daphne replied with a gulp and a nod. She squeezed Rafe’s hand.

  Pengree opened the wide double doors, revealing the crowded ballroom. “Lady Daphne Swift,” he intoned.

  Daphne released Rafe’s hand and took a tentative step forward. “If I could have your attention, please,” she said in the loudest voice she could muster to the waiting crowd. She paused and glanced back at Rafe, who was hidden from the ballroom by the door she was clutching. “Oh, Rafe. I’m so nervous. What should I say?”

  Rafe straightened his cravat and tugged at his cuff. “Say this, ‘A fortnight ago…’”

  Daphne turned her head back out to face the crowd and repeated his words. “A fortnight ago…”

  “I cheated you out of an engagement ball at this very house by acting foolishly, which was very bad manners,” Rafe continued.

  Daphne repeated his words quickly. “I cheated you out of an engagement ball at this very house by acting foolishly, which was very bad manners.”

  “But I hope to make it up to you by going through with it now as originally planned,” Rafe whispered.

  “But I hope to make it up to you by going through with it now as originally planned,” Daphne repeated, the smile on her face widening. She reached behind her to squeeze Rafe’s hand.

  “So, if you’ll all just wait a moment,” Rafe said.

  “So if you’ll all just wait a moment,” Daphne repeated.

  “I intend to announce my engagement to Captain Rafferty Cavendish.”

  “I intend to announce my engagement to Captain Rafferty Cavendish.” Daphne turned to him. “Oh, Rafe are you certain? Are you entirely certain? You’re not just doing this because of the mission and the annulment and everything?”

  “Not a chance, Grey.” He winked at her.

  Daphne turned to Cass. “Maid of honor?”

  Cass’s eyes were filled with tears. “I’d be delighted.”

  Daphne turned to Delilah. “Attendant?”

  “Mais bien sûr,” Delilah replied with another formal curtsy.

  Daphne turned back to the crowded ballroom. “Yes. I’d like to formally announce my engagement to the most wonderful man in the world. Captain Rafferty Cavendish.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, Daphne and Rafe sat on the settee in the middle of Julian’s study holding hands. In addition to her pink gown, Daphne wore a sparkling ring on her third finger. She hadn’t tugged at it in days.

  Cass was curled into a chair near them drinking a cup of tea with a knowing smile on her face. Wearing his own formal black evening attire, Julian, however, had his hands folded behind his back and was pacing in front of his sister and her husband.

  “Julian,” Daphne began. “I promised Rafe that you’d be reasonable.”

  Julian hadn’t said a word. That worried Daphne more than if he’d raised his voice. He continued his silent pacing.

  A knock sounded at the door and Daphne turned her head to see who it was. Lucy and Derek Hunt, also wearing their formal attire from the ball, came striding through the door.

  “Thank heavens,” Daphne breathed.

  Julian didn’t acknowledge them.

  “We came as soon as we received your note, Daphne,” Lucy explained.

  Cass raised a brow. “Called for reinforcements, did you?”

  Daphne nodded so vehemently that one of her curls came loose from her coiffure and bobbed along her forehead.

  Carefully stepping around the pacing earl, Lucy and Derek took seats in front of Julian’s desk but not before they turned the chairs so they could be a part of the conversation.

  “What have we missed?” Lucy asked, smoothing her hands over her green skirts as she settled into her chair.

  “Nothing yet,” Cass replied. “Just a lot of pacing. He seems to have been struck dumb.”

  Julian stopped his pacing directly in front of Rafe. The earl’s hands remained folded behind his back and he braced his feet apart. Rafe’s hand tensed in Daphne’s.

  “I have just one question for you,” Julian said, eyeing Rafe down the length of his nose.

  Rafe nodded and met his gaze. “Anything.”

  “You’ve professed your disdain of so-called blue bloods over the years. In light of that, how do you feel about being a part of this family?”

  Rafe swallowed and stood, too. He was about a foot in front of the earl. “I would be honored to be a part of this family. If you’ll have me.” He bowed slightly at the waist.

  “No more making light of blue bloods?” Julian asked, his face a mask of stone.

  Rafe squared his shoulders. “Your brother gave his life for our country. You nearly did as well. And your sister is one of the most steadfast patriots I’ve ever known. The Swift family may be noble, but you’re also brave. I can only hope I make this family proud and don’t bring disgrace upon it.”

  Daphne glanced around. All of the occupants of the study appeared to be holding their breath.

  Julian turned abruptly on his heel and marched around to the front of his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a letter. He returned to the settee and handed it to Daphne. “You need to see this.”

  Her brow furrowed, Daphne took the piece of parchment from her brother’s outstretched hand. “What is it?”

  “A letter,” Julian said. “From Donald.”

  Daphne’s eyes widened. She gulped back a sob. “Donald?”

  Julian nodded toward the paper. “Read it.”

  Daphne pulled it close with a shaking hand. “You must read it too, Rafe.”

  Rafe sat back down and read over her shoulder.

  My dearest sister Daphne,

  I asked Julian to give this to you after you and Cavendish had finally come to your senses and decided to remain married. I would never have a
llowed the marriage in the first place if I hadn’t thought Cavendish the best man for you and you the best lady for him. It was obvious since I met him that you and he would suit. I know he’ll make our family proud and you two will be happy together. Not to mention produce some fine-looking children.

  Daphne blushed. Rafe grinned at her.

  As I’m certain you’ve guessed, it wasn’t entirely necessary for you and Cavendish to marry before you set off on the mission, but I suspected it would keep you two together long enough to realize that you were well matched. If you’re reading this, you have discerned as much. Please know you have my blessing and I can only hope Julian agrees with me. I expect he will. He’s wise, our brother. Best wishes for a happy life together, Daphne. With all my love to you and your new husband.

  Yours,

  Donald

  Daphne’s eyes brimmed with tears. She turned her face up to her brother. “Do you, Julian? Do you agree?”

  Julian gave them a wide grin. “Wholeheartedly.”

  “And so do I,” Cass added with a nod.

  Rafe stood again and Julian held out his hand. Rafe shook it heartily. Both men were smiling.

  “But how did you get this letter, Julian?” Daphne asked. “When did you get it?”

  “Someone from the War Office sent it over,” Julian explained. “Seems our brother had a premonition. I think he always knew he wouldn’t return from France. He knew you both well enough to know you’d capture the men who killed him and he knew you two were meant to be together.”

  “I never realized how intelligent Donald was,” Lucy said, dabbing at her eyes and handing a spare handkerchief to Daphne.

  “He seems like he was both intelligent and kind,” Derek added.

  “He was both,” Daphne said, wiping away her tears. “I loved him so much.” She stood and hugged her brother.

  Julian hugged her back. “So did I. So did I.”

  Rafe and Daphne sat down again while Cass took charge of the silence. “Well, now. Enough crying. This should be a happy occasion. Donald would want as much.”

  They all nodded.

  “Agreed,” Julian said. “We must plan how we’ll go about making your marriage appear to have been planned all along. We’ll have a wedding for appearance’s sake.”