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Authors: The Courtship Wars 2 To Bed a Beauty

BOOK: JORDAN Nicole
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And she had no intention, either, of prolonging this unwanted encounter. Murmuring a polite “thank you,” Roslyn retrieved her bonnet from his grasp and tried to slip past him.

The duke, however, reached out to curl his fingers lightly around her wrist. “One might think you are actually eager to avoid me.”

“One might.”

“Why?” His tone held surprise and genuine curiosity.

“I dislike the way you are inspecting me, as if I am merchandise to be purchased.”

“I stand corrected.” His lips curved in a rueful smile that was slow, sensual. “I don’t think of you as merchandise, I assure you.”

It was impossible to ignore that captivating male smile, and Roslyn suddenly understood why females pursued Arden in droves. “Then you will pray excuse me,” she said, her voice more uneven that she would have liked.

Pointedly, she glanced down at his imprisoning grasp, yet he didn’t release her. “Are you currently taken?”

She blinked. “Taken?”

“Do you have a protector yet?”

He was asking if she was currently employed as a lightskirt, Roslyn realized. She considered saying yes, but then she would have to come up with a name for her nonexistent patron, and Arden would very likely see through her lie. “No, I have no protector.”

“Then why don’t you simply name your price? I dislike haggling.”

She stared up at him. “Are you asking me to be your…mistress?”

His smile turned bland. “Unless you have another proposition in mind? Yes, I am asking you to be my mistress, darling.”

Roslyn knew her jaw had dropped inelegantly, but she couldn’t help it. It shocked her a little that he would offer such an intimate position to a perfect stranger. “We are complete strangers, your grace. You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough to find you lovely and desirable. What more is necessary?”

“I could be a vicious harpy, for all you know.”

“I am willing to risk it. A thousand pounds a year during pleasure. Half that should we decide to part ways sooner.”

When Roslyn remained gaping with astonishment, he cocked his head and nodded briefly, as if coming to a decision. “Very well, two thousand. And of course I will pay all your expenses…a house and carriage plus an allowance for clothing and jewels.”

Roslyn couldn’t help being amused. It seemed an outrageous sum to offer an untried courtesan, although she knew Fanny made several times that amount. “How can you be certain I am worth it?”

Appreciative laughter lit his eyes as he gave a casual shrug. “Your beauty is alluring enough to satisfy my discriminating tastes. Anything else you need to know I can teach you.”

Roslyn’s own amusement faded as anger pricked her. Arden had unwittingly struck a raw nerve. He couldn’t know that her beauty—or more precisely, being coveted solely for her physical attributes—was a painfully sore point with her.

She also realized it was ridiculous to resent his quite generous proposition, since she was here tonight pretending to be a Cyprian. But after the other shameful offers she had already received over the past four years, she couldn’t respond with equanimity.

“I believe the proper response is to thank you for your generous offer, your grace,” she said coldly, withdrawing her wrist from his grasp, “but I must decline.”

His eyebrow shot up at her wintry tone. “It is common practice to feign reluctance in order to increase your price, but you will find that I dislike coyness.”

Roslyn bristled. “I do nothave a price, nor am I trying to be coy. I simply have no desire to have you for my lover—despite your vaunted reputation.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did Fanny say something to give you a fear of me?”

“No.”

“If you need to assure yourself of my qualifications, I would be happy to demonstrate.”

“I don’t need a demonstration. I don’t doubt your expertise in the least.”

“Then perhaps we should testyour skills.” Before she could do more than draw a breath, he stepped even closer and cupped her face in his hands. “Kiss me, love, and show me your charms.”

His bold gesture caught her completely off guard. Roslyn went rigid with dismay as the duke bent his head and captured her mouth with his.

It was a startling kiss, not only because of its unexpectedness but because of the effect it had on her entire body. His lips moved over hers in a sensual exploration that was tender and arousing and wildly exciting.

She had been kissed before, but nothing whatever like this. Her skin suddenly felt covered in heat, as if she were standing too close to a fire.

Her heart was pounding when he finally shifted his caresses away from her mouth. His lips brushed fleetingly along her jaw to her ear, where they lingered. “You taste like innocence,” he murmured, his voice surprisingly husky. “It is a charming act, but entirely unnecessary.”

“It is no act,” Roslyn replied shakily. “I am not experienced.”

He drew back enough to study her, his gaze skeptical. “I much prefer honesty.”

Roslyn stiffened. “You don’t believe me?” she asked in a warning tone.

He reached up with his fingertips to trace her lips beneath her mask. “Let us say I am willing to be convinced. Come here, my sweet….”

He bent to her once more and kissed her again, this time more passionately. Alarmed by her own response, Roslyn tried to retreat, but Arden pulled her fully against his body, letting her feel the hardness of him, the vitality.

Stunned by his devastating sensuality, Roslyn whimpered, amazed that she could be so aroused by a man’s embrace. When finally he broke off the kiss and raised his head, she looked up at him in an unfocused daze.

His smile was rueful. “I confess…most women don’t have this powerful an effect on me. You feel it, too, Beauty, don’t deny it.”

It was true, she had never in her life experienced anything like it—this lightning bolt of attraction that sparked between them. This devastating heat and desire. This yearning.

Not that she would ever admit it tohim .

Struggling to regain a semblance of composure, Roslyn cleared her throat.

“Indeed?” she managed to say with a blithe laugh. “Your arrogance is astonishing, your grace.”

It was obviously not the response he expected, and Roslyn pressed her point. “Your vanity is vastly over-inflated if you think I am eager to leap into your bed.”

The slow, charming smile he gave her was impossibly wicked, impossibly seductive…and sensual enough to bewitch a saint. “A bed isn’t necessary. We can make use of the chaise longue behind us.” He waved in the general direction of the alcove. “And at the same time we can remedy the fact that we are strangers.”

“I have no desire to become better acquainted with you.”

“Perhaps I can change your mind.”

He raised his hand, his warm fingers tracing a path from the hollow of her throat to the swells of her breasts, which thrust prominently upward in her shepherdess costume.

“Your grace…” Roslyn began in protest, but he stole any further words away with another kiss, claiming her mouth with tender possessiveness. When he cradled her silk-clad breast in his palm, the brazen shock of it rendered her immobile. She wore no corset beneath her low-cut bodice, so she could feel the heated pressure of his caress through the fragile fabric.

A rush of excitement swept her senses; fire radiated from the hand that held her throbbing breast and from his lips that were plying hers with such expert skill.

His mouth continued to hold hers effortlessly as he stroked the bare skin above her bodice with his fingers, dipping down into the valley between her breasts. Then his hand curled over the low neckline and lightly tugged, sending the mounds spilling out of her gown.

Roslyn gasped as the cool night air brushed her exposed flesh, but she couldn’t manage a word of rebuke, not even when the duke’s sensual kisses ended and he drew back.

His eyes darkened as he gazed down at her nakedness, surveying the ripe firmness crested with dusky nipples.

Her breathing suspended, Roslyn remained speechless as with his thumbs he traced slow circles around the hardened peaks. A low moan was dredged from her throat while the ribbons of her bonnet slipped through her nerveless fingers.

At her response, he took the weight of her breasts in his hands and tugged the nipples to taut attention with lingering caresses, pinching lightly with his fingers, soothing with his thumbs.

Roslyn pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, finding it impossible to move. His masterful hands knew just how to arouse, to excite, to delight.

“Your grace,” she finally repeated in a shaken voice.

“Hush, let me pleasure you.”

She tried futilely once more to resist, but his arm came around her, locking her lightly to him. Bending her backward a little, he lowered his head to her breast, closing his mouth over the distended tip.

The shock of sensation was overwhelming. Her knees had felt unsteady before, but now they nearly buckled. Thankfully he supported her as he suckled the pebbled bud.

Roslyn shut her eyes helplessly. She felt her pulse pounding in her throat as sweet pleasure seared her. His mouth was burning hot, devastatingly wicked, his tongue laving, swirling, circling…coaxing,demanding a response from her.

His sensual assault was all male, primitive and commanding, and roused a primal feminine need in her that she couldn’t deny. Her body came alive for him just as he intended. She had never been kissed this way, never been touched this way.

When he drew her nipple between his teeth, biting down lightly, the delicious eroticism further weakened her, further thrilled her. When he soothed the aching crest with his tongue, with his lips, a fresh shiver of delight rippled down her body, making her spine arch.

He took advantage of her helplessness. Still nipping and nibbling, he eased her thighs apart, wedging his knee between hers. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot of sensation as his powerful thigh pressed through her thin gown, against her woman’s mound. She wore small panniers on her hips, which puffed out the sides, but there was little barrier in front to protect her from the intimate knowledge of his body. She could feel his maleness, the hard, swollen arousal that pressed teasingly against her abdomen.

Her head swam, drugged with the heady sweetness. A spiraling pleasure spread into the very depths of her, turning her body boneless and inciting a deep throb between her legs. In the hollow of her secret flesh, a moist heat seeped.

She almost cried out in disappointment when the duke finally ceased his ministrations. When his hot mouth left her breasts, she opened her eyes to discover she was clinging to his shoulders.

She felt the cool night air tingle across her wet nipples, along with the sensual rasp of his voice as he murmured, “I could show you pleasure you will never forget.”

She believed him. Then he lifted his head, and she met his dark gaze. His eyes were smoldering, intense, triumphant.

Seeing that possessive look made heat flood Roslyn all over again. It was all she could do not to melt into his arms once more. Indeed, it took all her willpower to push her palms against his broad chest and stand upright on her own.

Her wits were still scattered, her heart still hammering hard against her ribs, but she forced herself to inject a faint note of scorn in her voice as she determinedly replied, “I am afraid your offer isn’t tempting enough. If I wish to find a protector, I can do better than an arrogant lord who thinks he need only to snap his fingers to have women fall swooning at his feet.”

Her mocking declaration had the desired effect of making him release her entirely. Grateful for her success, Roslyn stepped back, fumbling with her bodice, trying to repair her wanton disarray.

Drawing the silk up to cover the throbbing peaks of her breasts, Roslyn managed to school her expression to cool dispassion as she surveyed him. “Do me the kindness of believing my sincerity, your grace. I donot wish you to follow me again.”

His expression of disbelief was priceless, she thought, stifling a shaky laugh. She supposed it was a victory of sorts—leaving the elegant, imperious Duke of Arden withhis jaw hanging down.

Deciding not to push her luck, however, Roslyn turned on weak limbs and moved past him through the window, stepping down into the curtained alcove. She felt a trembling sense of relief when he didn’t follow her, yet she was still breathing hard, her heart thudding as if she had run a great distance, her body overheated.

Leaving the alcove, she hurried along the darkened gallery, making her escape like Cinderella fleeing the ball at midnight. It wasn’t until she reached the far end that she remembered dropping her bonnet again. But she wasn’t about to risk retrieving it. She had to find Fanny and tender her excuses. She was going home to Danvers Hall at once. It was too dangerous for her to remain at the ball any longer. Indeed, she was foolish to have come in the first place, Roslyn admitted.

And yet…

She paused as she reached the ballroom doors. She could still feel the burning imprint of the duke’s mouth on hers, still feel his lips suckling her aching nipples. She would never forget his incredible kisses, his erotic caresses—

Have you completely lost your wits?a scolding inner voice finally intervened.

Stepping into the ballroom, Roslyn blinked in the bright light. She was utterly disgusted with herself. She had set her sights on another nobleman entirely. She couldn’t possibly be attracted to the arrogant Duke of Arden!

Even so, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret that she would miss the opportunity he had offered her, to have him demonstrate his amorous skills. Undeniably it would have been an eye-opening experience, to spend one night in his arms.

Her sense of the absurd returning suddenly, Roslyn shook her head wryly. She had spent the last four years fending off unwanted advances, and she was too much of a lady to change that now. Not to mention that becoming Arden’s mistress for even one night would totally ruin her as a prospective bride for any other gentleman.

Just then, she spied Fanny dancing with an armored knight. Ignoring the laughter and gaiety emanating from the crowd, Roslyn plunged into the throng.

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