An Indecent Proposition (21 page)

As her shyness and trepidation faded with each passing day, Caroline was beginning to explore her passionate side. It was fascinating to see the evolution, and it was his good fortune to be a participant in the journey. She’d come to him a virgin in every way except the physical one, and each time they made love she was a little bolder.

He wondered if when this was all over, she’d change her mind about marriage. At the least, he suspected she’d take a lover.

The idea of it made him narrow his eyes, a possessive surge of annoyance tempering his desire for a moment. Caroline, on her side next to him, those silky auburn curls spilling over her shoulders and back, bit her lower lip, her eyes widening a little. “Is something wrong?”

He
couldn’t
keep her. This was transient lust, no more. It had always passed with any other woman, and would with her too. Besides, she was too young and marriageable to be his mistress, and the possibility she was infertile was too much of a risk for him to consider a different kind of arrangement.

Actually, he couldn’t believe that option had even occurred to him, even offhand.

The moment passed. Nicholas smiled, wondering if even a few days in the countrified setting had upset the equilibrium of his sophistication. Maybe he’d breathed in too much fresh air or overindulged on home-churned butter. Or it could be his impetuous sexual need was in control of his brain with a beautifully naked and available young woman next to him and nothing to do all day but enjoy her warm willing body. Next week Parliament would be in session and he’d return to his normal routine. For now, he ought not to complicate things and just live in the moment. This many days of relaxation in his life was an anomaly.

“Nothing is wrong, quite the opposite.” He reached out and touched her cheek first, then slid his fingers very lightly down the arch of her throat. “It’s a glorious morning and I have you next to me naked. What could possibly be wrong, my sweet?”

“I don’t know. For a moment you looked a little . . . fierce.”

“The only thing fierce about me is how much I want you.”

The moment slid past as he leaned forward and kissed her, brushing her mouth with his, tasting her lips. She responded as she always did, after that brief hesitation that signaled she was making progress in the world of carnal delight but had really just begun the journey.

He was more than happy to be her guide, so the notion of a morning between the sheets gave his world a rosy glow, banishing his brief uncharacteristic introspection on the subject of permanence.

 

“Like this.”

The words, murmured against her mouth, were accompanied by the urging of his hands.

Caroline obeyed. It was frightening to admit it, but she’d probably do anything he asked. Especially after the bone-melting kiss they’d just shared. Vaguely she was aware of the birds twittering outside, the cool scent of the early-morning breeze through the open window, the elegant silk hangings on the bed, and the growing glow in the room as the day came to life. . . .

But at the moment her whole world was
him
.

And what he wanted, it seemed, was for her to straddle his lean hips.

Nicholas looked like some decadent medieval prince with his dark hair disheveled against the white pillow slip and his classic, striking features. There was just the faintest flush under his skin and his muscular chest lifted with a slightly elevated rhythm. “Take me in your hand and guide me.”

Her confusion must have shown.

“Inside you,” he offered, just a small twitch of his mouth betraying his amusement over her ignorance. But his smile was tender and wickedly compelling. “The male does not always have to be on top.”

The idea there could be more than one position was a little startling. So far, it had been completely different in every possible way—her sincere thanks to God—but the mechanics of the matter were still as she remembered with Edward. On her back, legs spread apart, Nicholas above her.

“Some women like it very much. Let’s see if you do.” His voice held just the slightest rasp she’d come to associate with sexual need.

Some women. Of course, she thought with an unwilling—and unreasonable—resentment, he would know. The Devilish Duke could probably draw charts and write dissertations on the sexual preferences of most of the ladies of fashionable society, including their ideal sexual positions.

His erect cock rose hard against his flat abdomen, the tip glistening with liquid evidence of his desire. Caroline wiggled forward a little, his hands still guiding her, and put her fingers around the swollen flesh as she rose up and positioned the tip at her female entrance.

He made a small, inarticulate sound and his fingers tightened just a fraction on her hips as she sank down, his length slowly gliding into her until the tip rested against her womb. She found herself once again in the usual, frustrating position of not knowing exactly how to proceed, but Nicholas helped her, with small whispered phrases and words of encouragement as she began to move. Under her palms his chest felt warm and hard as she rose and fell, settling into a rhythm finally, awkwardness replaced with pleasure.

If she angled her body just so, it felt so divine that she trembled in response. The friction was deliciously slick and hot, and they watched each other as their bodies climbed the mutual pinnacle. Up, down, up again . . . dear Lord, she couldn’t take it, especially when he moved his hand between them and did something very wicked with his thumb in just the right spot.

“I think now would be a good time, my sweet.” The words were said in a hiss between his clenched teeth. His hips thrust upward to meet her downward slide.

Her world collapsed. So did her quaking body as she gave a small scream and clutched his shoulders, pressing her face to his strong throat as wave after wave crashed and receded until she was left limp and shaken in the wreck of orgasmic aftermath.

Nicholas, holding her tightly, groaned and went still, impaling her impossibly deep, and she could feel through her haze the surge of his ejaculation.

Panting, damp, silent, they lay together in a lazy post-coital sprawl. Finally, he gave a low laugh. “I’m going to say you enjoyed being a little more adventurous. There’s more to learn, you know, and we still have three days.”

A wayward part of her brain translated that.
Only three days?

“I feel confident you know all there is to know, Rothay.” She managed to lift her head and hoped her expression was as bland as she intended. She wanted to be detached, to be indifferent—more like the women he was used to, because if she could effectively impersonate one of those sophisticated society beauties, then maybe she could assume their blasé attitude over superficial sexual liaisons. A perverse part of her was intensely curious, and she asked the question that had been at the back of her mind almost since the moment she met him. “Tell me, with all those women, was there never someone special?”

It was probably an ill-advised question and, despite their intimate position, none of her business, but she wanted to know.

“All of them.” The teasing flippant charm in his voice was familiar, but a muscle tightened in his jaw.

There it was again, a flash of something in his face, something she didn’t quite understand.

She gave him as skeptical a look as she was capable of in her languorous blissful state, her body still humming and his sex still inside her.

“This isn’t my favorite subject,” he admitted in somber candor a moment later, his handsome features expressing what she interpreted as a hint of regret, the look in his dark eyes difficult to read.

Since he’d already confessed he wasn’t interested in marriage, she understood, and she tried to ignore the irrational flicker of sorrow that apparently she was included in those countless numbers of past amours. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself with swift relentless logic. She understood the game she’d joined and he’d certainly fulfilled his part of the bargain.

He was gentle, ardent, skilled, and generous.

This was the most lovely week of her life, but he was going to forget her and a poignant sense of sadness filled her over that undisputable truth. He wasn’t a constant lover and he certainly hadn’t ever promised to be, so she had no right to expectations of any kind.

There was a small bead of sweat at his temple and Caroline wiped it off with a fingertip in a playful gesture, determined to savor every second and dismiss any thoughts that interfered. “You do realize, Your Grace, you are going to be hard-pressed to outdo your romantic gesture of last evening.”

If she came away with nothing else from this, she’d forever have memories of a moonlit terrace and strong arms around her as they moved in a silent, beautiful dance.

An ebony brow lifted and his smile was slow and infinitely devilish, a true tribute to his nickname. “Is that a challenge, Lady Wynn?”

“I suppose it could be interpreted in that way.”

“Hmm.” His fingers traced her spine, to the curves of one bare buttock, and his hand gently squeezed as he cupped her bottom. “I am going to have to be inventive, aren’t I?”

“To best Lord Manderville? You know him better than I do, but I would guess since he is part of the wager, he will put his best foot forward.”

It came again, to her surprise. A certain dark flicker of an expression across his face she could describe only as irritation. When she thought about it, he’d mentioned the earl only once or twice and not at all in the past few days. The bet itself hadn’t been a topic of conversation. He muttered, “His foot isn’t what I’m worried about.”

That drew a laugh she couldn’t suppress, but she had a feeling her smile was a little tremulous. “Not to feed your arrogance, but I doubt you have to worry anyway.”

“I’ve impressed you?” His finger tipped her chin up a little, the roguish curve of his mouth familiar. She had the sinking feeling it would haunt her dreams.

It would have been better if she was a good liar. Instead she said simply, “Yes.”

He rolled her over and impressed her again.

D
esperation was a powerful force when it came to inventive methods, Derek decided in wry self-mockery as he hauled himself onto the ledge and caught his breath. What he was doing was both undignified and foolhardy, but it would hopefully demonstrate his determination and the depth of his feelings.

All he wanted was to have a short civil conversation.

Well, that wasn’t
all
he wanted, but he would settle for a chance to be able to declare himself.

The window was ajar because of the warm night, which he’d counted on. He perched on his narrow vantage point and heard the murmur of voices inside, waiting for Annabel’s maid to leave. When the soft sound of the door clicking shut came, he braced himself, hoping the object of his visit wouldn’t scream down the house.

Lucky for him her back was turned as he pushed aside the drapes and slipped into the room. At her dressing table, she didn’t notice his precipitous entry until she caught sight of him in the mirror and her eyes widened.

Quickly, he said, “Don’t. If you scream, everyone in this house will know I’m in your bedroom.”

Her mouth, which had opened, snapped shut. Annabel whirled around on the chair so violently she almost toppled to the floor. She caught her balance and leveled an outraged glare at him. Her cheeks blazed pink. “Get out of here.”

Since he hadn’t expected a warm welcome, Derek was unfazed. “No. Not until we talk for a few moments.”

“Are you mad? You just crawled through my window. If you wish to speak to me, just ask in the normal way.” She added stiffly, “My lord.”

He almost laughed at the attempt at formal address. Since Annabel was a child, she’d always called him by his first name, but Derek was so far beyond the point where he found anything about his current state of misery funny, he simply gave her what he hoped was a neutral look. “I’ve tried. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve drank more cups of insipid tea this week than in the past year. I’ve gone to parties I’d never consider attending when perfectly sane, and slogged through dinner here more than a few nights. You, my dear, are impossible to get alone for even a minute. This is my solution. Unless you want a scandal, you can’t announce my presence.”

She stared at him as if he really were insane and he wasn’t sure it might not be true. Bloody hell, it was his uncle’s house and he could walk through the front door at any time with impunity and full welcome. However, even the easygoing Thomas would not allow him in Annabel’s bedroom.

He expounded with obvious cynicism and bitterness, “Have you forgotten my letter? Please don’t try to tell me you didn’t get it, Annie.”

“I didn’t read it. I threw it away.”

The confirmation did absolutely nothing for his confidence. His voice held a hollow ring. “I see. I’m glad I bothered to take the time.”

“Why did you? Why are you doing this?” As if she suddenly noticed she wore nothing more than her nightdress, her hand crept to the bodice and flattened there. “Alfred would not appreciate you here.”

“I didn’t ask his permission, did I?”

Sod Lord Hyatt.
Derek
loved
her.

“I ask you once again to leave.”

Devil take it, she looked delectable in nothing but white lawn and lace, her golden hair loose around her shoulders, her face averted so he could study the perfection of her profile. Long lashes sent shadows on her cheeks.

“Not until I say a few things.” Derek didn’t move from his pose by the window but instead propped one shoulder against the frame. If he approached her, he wasn’t sure he could promise gentlemanly conduct. “May I speak?”

“Can I stop you?” Her voice was full of resentment. “You’ve already barged in and threatened me. I can’t see how I have a choice.”