“Lady Daphne is here to see you,” the butler said.
“I insisted.” She stepped from behind Ives.
Paul nodded. He didn’t stand and didn’t say a word until Ives left.
“I’m not certain what the proper etiquette requires when a practically undressed man has an impromptu visit from an unmarried woman in the middle of the night,” he said, deceptively calm.
That should shock her. Freshly bathed, he was naked under his banyan.
A hint of a smile tipped her lips upward. “Ives tried to dissuade me from seeing you, but I told him it was urgent.”
He studied her face, which was barely visible under her black wool cloak. A rosy glow colored the tip of her nose. What did it say that Lady Daphne Hallworth had braved the cold to visit?
It said she was desperate to see him to have ventured out in the middle of the night.
It was the only conclusion he could draw, and he’d never had much talent in art.
One fact couldn’t be denied—the woman was on the path to ruin.
She pushed the hood of her cloak from her head. The firelight licked her cheeks with an iridescent glow. For a moment, envy surged through every inch of him. Such a nimble light could touch her face, and he couldn’t—no, shouldn’t.
Lucky fire.
“I know it’s late—”
“Or early depending on your perspective,” he quipped.
“Clever,” Daphne conceded and smiled in earnest.
“How did you manage to travel here so your brother wouldn’t know?” He kept his voice even like a slow, meandering stream as he spread his arms in a leisurely manner across the back of the sofa. The movement made his banyan gape at his chest. He shouldn’t bait her or make her think he wanted to seduce her.
The problem was he did want to seduce her.
“Tait hired a hackney,” she answered.
“Ah, the talented and transcendent Tait. Tell me, where is the intrepid fellow and why isn’t he by your side? He could play chaperone.” His mind warred with his cock. In an attempt to keep the peace and some semblance of his sanity, he didn’t invite her to sit. The air between them seemed to shimmer with a restless energy, one ready to explode.
“Ives instructed Tait to leave and said you’d see me home.” She swallowed.
“Rather impertinent of the old fellow, don’t you think?” He stretched his legs apart, causing the banyan to fall open even more. “You shouldn’t be here this late, Moonbeam.”
She bit her lip and stared at him.
He wanted to groan at the sight. Her red lips glistened in the firelight.
“I’m going to lock the door. I don’t want us interrupted.” Gracefully, she turned. The gentle click signaled they were alone together.
Immediately, his cock twitched like a setter ready to point.
Or a pampered lapdog begging for a treat.
Her eyes never left his as she came to his side. His limbs felt heavy as his blood pounded. God, she was beautiful, and he was afraid his best intentions would go awry this evening.
Finally, she stopped several feet away. She dropped her gaze to her clasped hands, then lifted her head. “I had to see you.”
“For what purpose?”
“To apologize about the Reynolds.” She untied her cloak, revealing a simple ivory gown, nothing like her earlier evening attire.
It was becoming.
But that wasn’t where her true beauty resided. Her face would steal men’s hearts in a crowded ballroom if she looked at them the way she was studying him now.
He released his breath slowly and discovered that his earlier weariness had completely vanished. “I should be the one with the apologies. Let’s not confuse the matter. I should have never escorted you to the Reynolds. A mistake of elephantine proportions.”
Her eyes narrowed, and it was the first hint he’d raised her ire. He should be thankful. It would make it easier for her to see his true self if she was angry. His father had taught him that lesson.
“Elephantine? My, you are full of yourself aren’t you, Your Grace.”
For a moment, he heard Devan’s mockery in her voice.
“You wouldn’t be the first one disappointed in my failings, nor shall you be the last.” He leaned his head against the sofa and looked at the ceiling so she couldn’t perceive his own disappointment within himself. “If my father were here, he’d gladly point out my natural tendency to spoil anything I touch. And I don’t want to spoil you.”
At this moment, he couldn’t bear the pity that would mar her beautiful face. She was by far the most perceptive person he’d ever met. With one look, she’d see how scarred he was from the countless clashes he’d had with his father.
The bastard wouldn’t even leave him be in death. Paul had another debt waiting for him this evening to be paid. This one addressed to “My Misbegotten Mistake.”
“He doesn’t sound like much of a father.” She propped her hands on her perfect hips. “But let me correct your misperception. I would have gone to the Reynolds with or without your assistance. However, I was glad for your company.”
The frankness that tinged her mellifluous voice made him want to drag his eyes from the study of the ceiling, but the wounds were too raw. He would reveal the vulnerability that had seeped into every inch of him. Best to tell all of it and destroy what remaining regard she held for him.
“Would you like to know the rest of the truth of why I disparaged Claire to Alex all those years ago?”
For a second, the fire blazed as a log collapsed, then subdued itself.
“Yes.” Her voice had grown eerily quiet.
“When your brother stole her away from me, I wanted to destroy him, my best friend, for taking that singular moment in my life when my father was proud of me.” The ugliness of his actions nauseated him. “He was the only other person I was close to besides my brother, and I wanted to obliterate him. Now you know what I’m capable of. What a monster, I am. That’s why he’s leery of me.”
Silence reigned through the study. Without looking at Daphne, he could feel the heat of her stare.
“You hurt my sister-in-law and my brother. Their marriage almost didn’t survive because of your actions. No, you don’t need to remind me of what you did. But I also know you’re human. I have no doubt you’ll do the right thing.” The coolness in her voice disappeared. “Your father was the monster. Not you. He should have cherished you.” The ferocity in her words took him aback. “Don’t let him torment you anymore. He’s gone. Look at your own accomplishments. You’ve survived his ugliness and become a worthy man. Last night you proved how wonderful you are to help me though you’d already visited the Reynolds earlier.” The rustle of her dress betrayed her movement. She took a step closer. “The Duke of Langham is supporting you and your idea for the hospital. Everyone thinks it’s spectacular. Surely you heard the accolades. I see how incredible you are.”
The wall he’d built around his heart to protect him from any hurt she might inflict crumbled like a sand castle in high tide. With what little remaining pride he possessed, he forced himself to drag his gaze to hers.
She nodded. “It’s true.”
Her eyes spoke a thousand words, and for that moment he actually listened. It was easy to believe she thought him a worthy man, perhaps the most important man in her life. The piercing frankness in her gaze made him light-headed, almost drunk. But for honor’s sake, he’d give her a chance to disavow him.
“I haven’t done much to remove my bid from Winterford House. I have no excuse, except I forgot once again. Your brother’s assessment of me is correct. I spoil everything I touch.”
“I’m confident you’ll do the right thing.” She pursed her lips. Her heavenly eyes foretold her true regard. They flashed with laughter that resembled lightning from a summer storm. She swallowed, but her mirth still floated around the room, giving it warmth. “Otherwise, I’ll haunt every remaining waking hour you possess on this earth.”
&nbs
p; If that were only true, he’d believe he’d died and gone to his heavenly rewards.
He glanced at her bodice, and his cock tented his banyan in approval. He didn’t hide his erection, as he wanted her to see the effect she had on him. For good measure, he widened his legs. He was doubling the ante to force her to see him as he truly was—a complete reprobate. Perhaps she’d think twice before showing up in a man’s house in the middle of the night unescorted.
God, he was turning into a prude. He was the one who invited her to come anytime day or night in the first place. “Daphne, you should leave.”
“I don’t want to.” With a lissome movement, she dropped to her knees in front of him—right between his legs. She studied the outline of his erection, then raised her gaze to his. “I don’t think you want me to leave either.”
He looked into her eyes for any sign of mockery or, worse, any sign of fear. There was confidence and her unique feminine poise. Hotter than any fire, it made him burn.
She made him burn.
More logs collapsed in the fireplace, breaking a well-constructed dam within him. All his doubts were washed away to be replaced with hope for the future. In that moment, he could almost see himself as the man she thought she saw. A man who could carry on his family legacy with pride and accomplish great things. With her belief in him, he could become the man he wanted to be. The man he’d promised he’d become.
All he needed was her.
“Come here,” he whispered. He waited for her to reach for him, but Daphne sat back on her heels and studied him.
“I think the world of you. You should know that.” She slowly untied his banyan as she continued to study his face. “You asked me last night to trust you. I do, and tonight, I want you to trust me.”
His breath hitched. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to drag her into his arms and kiss those sweet lips as he made love to her.
“What are you doing?” His voice cracked like a schoolboy on the cusp of manhood. In protest, the sofa creaked as his hands tightened on the wooden frame.
Her gaze slid from his eyes to his lips and finally down to his chest. She inhaled deeply and sighed. “You’re breathtakingly handsome.”
Inch by inch, she regarded him. The prolonged anticipation of her touch was unbearable. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Eventually.” Her husky whisper had lost all traces of her earlier laughter.
Daphne reached with one hand and traced the muscle of his right calf before reversing direction and caressing his ankle. Without hesitation, she placed both hands on the backs of his legs and retraced her movements.
Time stood suspended as he catalogued her every move. Inch by inch, she massaged his skin with her hands like an artist learning every muscle, sinew, and bone. Her gentle movements should have relaxed him but had the opposite effect. They caused a hunger like no other.
She leaned closer and imprisoned him with her familiar fragrance of lavender. He couldn’t escape if his life depended on it.
Thank God for small miracles. His blood heated with desire, and his erection lay straight on his stomach, pulsing with need. If he took himself in hand, a mere two strokes would have him coming like an adolescent.
The now familiar virgin witchery she possessed unfurled in her eyes, and he was powerless. She moved her hands over his knees and continued her path of exquisite torment until she reached his thighs. He made the mistake of glancing down. The sight of her hands so close to his cock made him groan with need for her touch. Every nerve of his body was primed to unleash the rabid animal within that wanted her beneath him. His hands twitched to grab her.
He closed his eyes, desperate to gain control. But out of nowhere, the warmth of her hand surrounded his cock and then her sweet mouth took possession. His eyes flew open. When he tried to speak, the words lodged in his throat as the most perfect and intense sensations took over.
She was a virgin all right. She lacked expertise, but she explored him while she touched and teased. She tongued his length where a huge purple vein twined in an aimless fashion. At such superb torment, he pushed his hips forward.
Instead of moving away from him, she took more of him in her mouth. With her tongue, she traced the crown, then slid it over the slit at the top.
Then she did the unthinkable—she moaned. The vibration from her throat against his organ caused every powerful sensation to congregate in his spine.
Without saying a word, he scooped a protesting Daphne into his arms, then had her straddle his legs. The position pressed her mound against his cock. Though it was still an exquisite torture, it was one he could control.
“What are you doing?” The throaty deepness from her velvety voice caused him to grow harder, if that was possible. Everything this woman did affected him.
“I’m going to kiss you.” Semen leaked from his tip, crying for her to finish what she’d started.
“Didn’t you like it? I thought I was doing it just like the prostitute.”
“You are an enchantress. Yes, I liked it. No, I more than liked it.” He placed his fingers against the silky skin of her lips, causing his own skin to twitch like a horse before a race. Those very lips had been wrapped around his cock not moments ago. “See what you’ve done to me. You’ve stolen my sanity.”
He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against hers. If he concentrated on his breathing, he wouldn’t come—at least not yet.
She pushed her center against him. Without waiting for him to initiate the kiss, she put her lips against his. Her open-mouth kiss was an invitation, one that Paul readily accepted as he took possession of her mouth. Teaching her, coaxing her into a rhythm they both enjoyed. Her little murmurs and groans encouraged him more.
With one hand he held her close as he used his other hand to push her gown up her legs. He cupped her bottom and pulled her tighter against him. She whimpered her approval. In one move, he flipped them both so that she lay underneath him.
Her gaze captured his. “Are we going to make love?”
If she were any other woman, he’d have already entered her by now. But Daphne deserved the best. Frankly, she deserved the best of him. Making love to her—tonight—was not the best for either of them. He lightly fingered a loose lock of her black silk hair, then brushed the back of his hand gently across one pink cheek. “Sweetheart, is that what you want?”
She blinked slowly. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Perhaps we should find another way … to enjoy one another.”
“I’d like that,” she answered.
Slowly, he took her mouth in another kiss as he pushed his cock against her center—skin to skin. The wetness of her arousal caused his heart to pound. Nipping her bottom lip, he continued to move against her. Her breathing increased and she lifted her hips to meet his over and over. She was close to coming. The flush of her cheeks made her gloriously beautiful.
“Paul.” She pulled him close as her body tightened against him. The dulcet sound of his name on her lips was more magnificent than the finest Viennese string quartet. He shifted to his side and brought his hand to her hip. A woman’s hip had to be the most perfect creation in the history of the world. Daphne’s was a masterpiece. He traced the soft skin with the flawless angles, then shifted his hand lower. His fingers strayed to the soft curls that protected her clitoris.
“Let me touch you.” He trailed his lips against her temple.
She nodded, then placed her hand over his, directing his touch.
God, she was beautiful and gloriously wet. It excited him that she knew what she wanted. Tonight, he’d help her find the sweetest release she’d ever imagine.
With his fingers, he separated her folds, then found her perfect pearl drenched from her arousal. It was pure splendor in her arms. He caressed her clitoris in gentle circles. In response, she mewled and pushed her center harder into his hand. He continued, and her cries become more urgent, more demanding. Her breathing accelerated, and
she undulated her hips. When he felt the first stiffening of her body, he stroked two fingers inside her. Her eyes closed. The pulsing of her orgasm squeezed his fingers. Once again, she’d let herself go in his arms.
Gently, he removed his fingers and caressed her hip once more. The sight drove him to move over her once again as he pushed against her center with his cock, mimicking the act of making love. Each stroke against her soft, wet center sent pleasure careening through him. He was desperate for completion. After fighting his arousal for what seemed like hours, he let it consume him. He roared her name as his climax crashed through him. It possessed him in a way he’d never experienced—the duration lasting longer than he ever remembered. His seed glistened in the candlelight where it marked her abdomen. For some foolish reason, he was proud that she bore the remnants of his release.
He pulled her tight against him as he buried his head in her soft neck, murmuring her name over and over. His heartbeat slowed from its earlier relentless pounding as his body came under his control. He could feel the strong beat of her heart against his. If he died in this position, it would be the equivalent of heaven—he was certain of it.
He placed gentle kisses along her collarbone, then her neck, each one gentler than the last. It was his way of slowing down the tempest they had created in each other’s arms. Across her perfect cheek, he pressed his gentlest kiss.
“Sweetheart, I need to get you cleaned up and take you home.” He nudged her ear with his nose. He could touch her all night. If he was honest, he wanted to take her to bed, make love to her all night, and then sleep all day beside her.
He stilled at the thought. It had never crossed his mind to take a woman to his bed. His room, his bed, was his sanctuary, a place where no one could invade his space. But with his Moonbeam, he wanted to whisk her off her feet, walk up the stairs to his chambers, and lock the door.
With her hands on both sides of his head, she gently combed through his hair, the repetitive touch soothing. Yet he could feel his arousal growing again and his desire for her waking from its short rest. He was convinced he’d never tire of her. Never before had he acted like such a schoolboy. He reached for one of her hands, then placed a kiss against her palm. One endearing kiss to help her understand this was special to him also.
The Good, the Bad, and the Duke Page 21
