How to Capture a Countess (Duchess Diaries 1) (29 page)

He instantly wanted his mouth over those delicious mounds of temptation, and he growled with sensual hunger.

Rose’s entire body thrummed with his reaction. “It’s your turn, I believe.” Was that her voice, so husky and sensual?

He didn’t hesitate, swiftly removing his coat and yanking his shirt over his head, revealing a broad chest covered with tantalizing golden hair that narrowed and then trailed down his muscled stomach to disappear at his waistband. As her gaze followed the path, she saw that his manhood was already straining against his breeches. Instantly she felt an answering heat.

She met his gaze and reached for the ties that held her skirt, but his warm hands brushed hers away. In an amazingly short time, her skirt dropped to the floor, her petticoats with it. Cool air brushed over her. All she wore now was her chemise, stockings, and riding boots.

Sin’s gaze roved over her, lingering on her breasts, her hips, her thighs . . . He drew a ragged breath. “It’s my turn again.” He took off his boots and reached for the waistband of his breeches, but she grasped his wrist.

“Allow me.”

His eyes gleamed and he lifted his hands out of her way.

She began to work on the fastenings, instantly distracted when her fingers brushed his warm, taut stomach and he gasped. Smiling, she undid his breeches and his cock sprang free.

Rose reached out a trembling hand to touch it, barely grazing the turgid head.

He moaned and pressed her hand onto his cock, wrapping her fingers about it firmly. Her cheeks flamed, but she held her hand there, tightening her grip when his released her.

He gasped, and his cock hardened yet more beneath her fingers. Suddenly, he let his breath out in a whoosh. “Enough! I can’t—” She reluctantly removed her hand, and he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

“You don’t need this anymore.” He slipped her chemise from her shoulders and tugged it off.

She reached for her boots, but he caught her wrist. “Leave them.”

He kissed her, his warm skin against hers, his rigid cock pressed against her hip, his large hands sliding over her stomach to her breasts as he traced his warm mouth over her neck, her shoulder, down to her breasts.

He flicked one of her nipples with his tongue and she gasped.

Her thighs were slick, her heart pounding, her nipples swollen with her need. She grasped him and tugged impatiently. He smiled at her eagerness, and rolled between her thighs. His cock pressed against her and she moaned, planting her boots on the bed and lifting her hips to meet him. He slipped inside her a little, moving slowly to prolong the moment. The tight heat that surrounded him sent his blood pumping.

She grasped the sheets at either side, her head thrown back as he pressed farther inside. She growled deep in her throat and released the sheets to grasp his shoulders, her legs locking behind his back as she pressed herself against him.

His last shred of control disappeared and he arched against her with a force that shocked them both.

He felt the give of her virginity just as she cried out and clutched him closer.

His eyes flew open but she never stopped moving, her leather boots tight about his hips. He knew he should stop, knew something wasn’t quite right, but his blood-addled mind could only think and feel the tightness of Rose as she rocked her hips against his, taking her pleasure from him, demanding he do the same from her.

He answered her demands, filling her over and over. She answered him stroke for stroke, her legs holding him locked in place, her boots abrading his hips sensually.

As Sin’s passion built, he fought to hold it back,
gritting his teeth against the need for release. At the edge of that precipice, Rose grasped him desperately and arched beneath him as she went over the edge of passion, taking him with her.

•  •  •

Neither moved. Their bodies were damp from exertion, their breathing so ragged and uneven that Rose was light-headed. Nothing had prepared her for the exquisite feelings she’d just experienced.

Sin regained his breath first, slowly rolling up on one elbow.

Still panting, she looked over at him. “That is a memory I will always cherish.”

“You were a virgin.”

There was accusation in his words. Her smile slipped. “Yes. Not that it matters—”

“Not matter?” He rolled away and climbed from the bed. “I was certain that you weren’t.”

Her heart, so euphoric a moment ago, sank. “Why were you certain? We never discussed it.”

“The way you move and kiss, and how you allowed me to touch you—” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was certain of it,” he repeated hollowly.

Rose sat up, tugging her sheet over her, her nakedness suddenly wrong somehow. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

“But it does.” His gaze had darkened and he looked at her with a stern expression. “Rose, why did you push me into the fountain all those years ago?”

“What does that have to do with—”

“Answer the question,” he snapped.

“The kiss overwhelmed me. I’d never kissed anyone before, and—”

Inwardly, Sin groaned. “That was your first kiss.”

She nodded. “When you kissed me back with so much passion and desire, and then you ran your tongue over my lips in such a— It scared me. I enjoyed it, but I panicked . . . and—well, you know what happened then.”

He closed his eyes. He could see it all now. She’d been so young, with passions she couldn’t yet understand. And then she’d shared that passion with a man too jaded to recognize that she was a true innocent.

And now, six years later, he’d committed the exact same mistake. He walked to the window and stared sightlessly into the night.

“Sin, what’s wrong?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong is that I’ve ruined you.”

“Nonsense. No one knows what we’ve done. And I refuse to regret it. I wanted you to touch me. I wanted you to be with me. I’m not sorry.” Rose’s heart ached. She’d thought their passion was so beautiful, simply incredible. Yet there stood Sin, head bowed, a scowl on his face.

“Rose, this changes everything.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.” His face was bleak, his jaw set,
though when he met her gaze, he tried to smile. “I will get a special license and we will marry in two weeks’ time. It won’t be anything special, but later on, we can have another ceremony for our families.”

She waited, her breath caught. But he said nothing more. She let out her breath. “Sin, I won’t marry you.”

His stiff smile disappeared. “What?”

“I refuse.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and wrapped the sheet about her. Making sure his back was turned, she swiped away the beginning of her tears. She’d never felt so empty or alone in her entire life as she did at this moment.

“Rose, you have to—”

A sound came from the hallway. Rose sighed. “That’s one of the pugs. He’s been visiting me at night.” At least the pug would be glad to see her. She went to the door.

“Rose, don’t—”

She’d already unlocked and opened the door, her gaze on the floor. A pair of pink slippers peeked out from a silk robe. Astounded, Rose followed the robe all the way up to Miss Isobel’s shocked face.

The woman’s eyes flickered from Rose’s sheet-clad body to where Sin stood naked by the window, fully exposed by the moonlight.

Isobel’s eyes widened and then she screamed.

From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe
The number of people wandering the halls of Floors Castle in the middle of the night is appalling. The next time I invite guests, I shall put rat traps in every corner. Perhaps that will teach them.

The duchess placed a cold cloth over her brow, her red wig precariously perched over one eye. “Well.”

Lady Charlotte nodded as if that one word covered it all.

Rose sat on the edge of her chair. “So that’s what happened.”

“You’ve told us everything?” her grace asked.

“Yes. All of it.” Rose’s cheeks couldn’t be hotter.

Lady Charlotte clicked her tongue. “And Lord Sinclair hasn’t said anything since Miss Isobel interrupted your, ah, meeting?”

“Nothing.” Rose squeezed her hands tightly, her nails biting into her palms. The pain kept her from crying as she said, “I think I should leave. Not only
did Miss Isobel see us, but Lord Cameron did, too. He came charging out of his room when Miss Isobel screamed.”

“I see.”

“After that, everyone came. Isobel’s parents and sister, and then Mr. Munro joined them and—” She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. “I’m well and truly ruined this time.”

The duchess said, “To be honest, I’m surprised Sin didn’t ask you to marry him on the spot. He knows what’s due his name.”

“He’d already asked me, but I had refused him.”

Two pairs of eyes locked upon Rose. The duchess sat up very slowly. “Why did you refuse him?”

“He . . . I don’t know if I should say anything else. This affects him, as well.”

“Good God! There are too many damned secrets in this house!” Enraged, her grace balled up her kerchief and tossed it on the floor. “Rose Balfour, you listen to me. I’m here to help you, but I cannot do so unless you tell me everything—and I mean
everything
that happened.”

Rose nodded uncertainly and looked away. “I don’t know if it’s important, but once Sin—Lord Sinclair found that I was a—a virgin, he said that we should marry.”

“Said?”

Rose nodded. “He just . . . said it.”

They were silent a long moment.

Finally the duchess said in an amazed voice, “He said you should marry him, but he didn’t say one word about love or loyalty or trust, or call you beautiful or—”

Rose shook her head.

“That numbskull! I don’t blame you for refusing him. What did he say after you did so?”

“He was angry. We were arguing when I heard the noise in the hallway and thought it was Beenie.” She looked at the pug now sleeping with his chin on her slipper. “I wish it had been.”

“So do we all,” Lady Charlotte said, her knitting needles flying.

“And after Miss Isobel’s scene? What did my numbskull great-nephew do then?”

“He ordered MacDougal to take some smelling salts to Miss Isobel’s parents’ room, as that’s where Lord Cameron had carried her. Then he told MacDougal to go to each room and see if anyone wished for a night draft to help them get to sleep again. He was very thoughtful to everyone, but—” Her voice broke.

Lady Margaret’s frown deepened. “But you.”

Rose nodded miserably. “I can tell that he w-w-wishes we’d never met.” Her words ended on a wail, causing Lady Charlotte to drop her knitting and come to sit beside Rose.

“There, there, child.”

“That fool!” The duchess’s fingers tapped impatiently
on the arm of her chair. “I fear this calls for drastic measures.”

Lady Charlotte turned to her friend. “You have a new scheme!”

The duchess nodded. “And to begin with, I think Miss Balfour is right: she should return home.”

Rose hadn’t thought she could feel any worse, but she did. “Y-yes, your grace.” She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and stood. “I’ll pack now.”

“I’ll send your maid up to help. Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Rose nodded.

Lady Charlotte stared at the duchess. “Really, Margaret, don’t you think we should arrange for Sin and Miss Balfour to speak?”

“No. Sin’s made his choice. Let him stand by it. Miss Balfour, I’m sorry to send you home, but as you can see, I have no choice.”

“Of course. Thank you for—” Her voice broke.

Her grace’s expression softened and she came to give Rose a swift hug. “I want you to know that I do not hold you responsible in any way for what happened.” She took Rose’s hands between her own. “You are not to blame for any of this. Once this has all blown over, I look forward to having not only you but your sisters, as well, here at Floors Castle. I promise to invite a livelier crowd, too.”

“That will make them very happy, your grace. Thank you for that.”

The duchess patted Rose’s hands and released her. “I shall have MacDougal call round the carriage.”

Rose turned to go, but then stopped. “One more thing, your grace. If . . . if you don’t mind, I don’t want Lord Sinclair to know the direction to Caith Manor. It’s better we just stop this now and . . . ”

“Say no more, child. I’ll protect your location with my life.”

Rose managed a weak smile and curtsied. “Thank you.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Charlotte turned to Margaret. “I’ve never been closer to calling you something less than a lady.”

Margaret chuckled. “Don’t give up quite so quickly, Charlotte. I may be old, but I still have one or two tricks up my sleeve.”

•  •  •

Sin stood in the library with a glass of port. He’d spent most of the day riding aimlessly, mulling over the events of last night, tiring himself and his mount, and arriving home when everyone was at dinner. Not feeling hungry, he had dressed and gone to the library to help himself to some port and await the rest of the guests.

He’d just poured his second glass when he was joined by Mr. Stewart, Lord Cameron, and Mr. Munro. They all looked startled to find him awaiting them.

He inclined his head. “MacDougal selected an excellent port. It’s one of the better ones in the cellar.”

Mr. Stewart, all fuming outrage, glared at him.

Lord Cameron offered a stiff smile. “Excellent. It was a very quiet dinner and some port would be most welcome.” He poured three more glasses. “Munro?”

Munro came to take a glass, his gaze locked on Sin. After a few gulps, he asked, “So . . . you and Miss Balfour, eh?”

The meaning was unmistakable.

Sin swirled the port in his glass, but said nothing.

Mr. Stewart continued to glare.

Lord Cameron cleared his throat. “Munro, that was quite a good roast her grace served tonight, wasn’t it?”

Munro tossed back a few more swigs, his gaze still locked on Sin’s. “Tell us, Sinclair, what was she like, our little Rose? Such a tease.”

“Munro, really,” Lord Cameron said desperately. “Stop.”

“And here I really believed her an innocent. But you saw right through her little act, didn’t you, Lord Sin?” The man’s laugh was ugly. “Tell us, was she as tender as she look—”