The Accidental Mistress (8 page)

Sophie’s soft mouth tightened. ‘You are a
very
unpleasant man.’

Roxburghe chuckled. ‘I am teasing you. But you won’t have to worry about country suitors any longer which is just as well as I’m quite sure they would find your hoydenish ways very trying. And the scandal will pass, I assure you. Nobody is likely to turn their nose up for long to my wife.’

She frowned at him, all at sea again. It was difficult to follow the man. One moment he seemed playful, the next serious. ‘Please stop. If you cannot offer up a better solution or leave off funning then just arrange to return me to my home. I am sure Mama and Papa will be disappointed, but when I explain, they will understand.’ Hopefully, they would understand. It was difficult to say how that particular conversation would go.

‘You seem to be laboring under a misapprehension. I am not joking, Sophie. The only way to fix this wretched coil is for us to marry. I understand your parents may not be best pleased, but I’ll square it with them later. They cannot object to the match, after all.’

Sophie sat in her chair and stared at Roxburghe. ‘I do believe I hit you far too hard last night. You’re clearly suffering from a brain fever.’

Roxburghe’s dark eyes glinted. ‘I never thought that my first proposal of marriage to a woman would be received with such… enthusiasm. You overwhelm me Miss. Hartwell!’

‘You’re being absurd, my lord. You cannot possibly wish to marry me.’

‘Really?’ He leaned back in his chair a little and tilted his head, expression quizzical. ‘You, of course, would know best. Pray tell me why I do not wish to marry you?’

‘Because… well because… Oh really, it must be obvious! You’re only trying to save me from a unfortunate situation which, I have to say, is very obliging of you even if it
is
unexpected.’ Sophie was flustered. And astonished. She could not believe he was serious. Marry
her
? ‘But there is no need to go to such desperate lengths, I can assure you.’

‘There is every need. I have ruined you.’

‘Yes, but by your own admission, you ruin young ladies as a matter of course. Why,’ she added indignantly, ‘You made it practically sound like a
career
!’

‘You, however, are different,’ he said softly, ‘Acquit me Sophie - I am not as bad a man as you might think. And we will deal tolerably well together, after all. I’m sure each of us will find compensations, in one form or another…’

There it was
again
, glimpsed in his eyes. Desire, hot and strong. Sophie flushed and stood up so abruptly her chair skittered backwards. She could not stand this. Her own desperate response to that desire, the ache that filled her when he looked at her like that… as if he were just moments away from reaching out for her. From pulling her close to that hard, strong body. No matter that they were sitting at breakfast, that it was no more than nine in the morning. No matter that the servants, or Mrs. Chambers, might come in at any moment.

They were hovering on something calamitous, a descent into the pit, surrendering to desires that demanded action, right here, right now…

Such feelings could not be right.

And now marriage. Either he was insane or she was. Nothing was making sense and being in Roxburghe’s presence was only confusing her. He rose slowly to his feet, his eyes fixed on her face. Any moment now he would step towards her and in all likelihood she would meet him halfway.

This could not be right
!

With a soft cry, Sophie turned and fled the room, running back to her own as if four walls and one door could stave off the inevitable.

It could not.

She hadn’t bothered to lock it this time. Even as she’d fled she’d known he would follow and a part of her wanted him to with such quiet desperation that turning the key in the lock had seemed a ridiculous act of self-denial.

He came within minutes, as she’d known he would. She was standing at the window looking out at the rain-soaked fields and knew the moment he walked through the door. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders and with a sigh she leaned back against him, absorbing his warmth, the hard strength of his body against her back.

‘It
is
morning,’ he murmured, his lips against her ear, ‘and raining into the bargain. Nothing to enflame the passions there, one might say and yet…’ He turned her around to face him and Sophie gazed up at him, helpless with need. ‘I want you just as much this morning as I did last night. More, I think. There is something about you… about
us
… that makes me forget everything. You, of all women, remind me that I should behave as a gentleman. And yet you, of all people, have the power to make me forget it.’

His arms around her felt so right. Reaching up, Sophie pulled his head down to her own so she could experience the magic of those lips again. They melded together, mouth to mouth and the fire that had been smoldering burst into flame. Restraint was no longer an option, self-denial an absurd ideal and they shed their clothing, Sophie’s finger’s fumbling, Roxburghe’s as smooth as glass, until each was able to assuage the need to touch naked flesh, flowing over each other like silk, skin on skin.

As practiced as his lordship was, skill became pure instinct with Sophie. He guided her towards the bed and they tumbled backwards, his arms cradling her, unwilling to release her mouth until he could taste another part of her. Lips leaving her own, he travelled the length of her throat, moving down until he could pull each pink rosebud nipple into his mouth, one after the other as she writhed beneath the gentle onslaught, caught up in emotions she had never experienced before. Dev had experienced them, had done this so many times that the women had blurred together in his memory and yet – incredibly - this felt entirely new to him. He was swollen with his need, aching with it but for once it was not about him. Not this time.

This was all about Sophie.

Moving with slow deliberation, he set out to teach little Sophie Hartwell all the pleasures that could be experienced when a man made love to a woman. His mouth teased groans from her, his skillful fingers sliding between her legs to touch the warm centre of her womanhood, teasing the delicate nub into a paroxysm of ecstasy that had her shuddering beneath him, eyes flying open to stare blindly at the ceiling as wonder overtook her.

He moved to cover her body with his own, a hand on either side of her head to take most of his weight as he positioned himself, moving carefully. He was in such a heightened state that he knew it would not be long before he had to surrender to the urge to have her completely but he clamped down on it, desperate for control. Sophie was still looking up at him with such wonder on her face that he felt the cold knot inside him break apart, only to reform into something else; something whole.

Bending his head, Dev kissed the woman beneath him fiercely and she responded, opening her mouth eagerly, tongue slipping in to meet his own. Her legs parted, anticipating him, too impatient to wait for his careful restraint because she arched towards him instinctively and he gave in, his erection pushing inexorably upwards into the tight warmth of her. She gasped and shuddered beneath him but there was no hesitation, no holding back. Her fingers entwined in his hair and they began to move together, rhythm instinctive, perfectly matched as they rocked together, building towards a climax each longed for, fused hip to hip as he surrendered his seed and they shattered together in the perfect, complete absolution of release.

Dev’s arms pulled her close as they rolled onto their sides together, still joined, her leg curling over his own. The tremors were slowly subsiding, shaking them both and he pushing her dark hair back with a hand that was not quite steady.

Sophie opened her eyes and looked into his. Her skin was flushed, her breathing fast and he decided that he had never seen any woman look lovelier. ‘I -’ One dreamy word.

A smile curved his lips. ‘Yes, Miss. Hartwell?’

Sophie let out a deep breath. ‘That was… unexpected my Lord.’

‘Call me Dev.’ His fingers continued to play with her hair, smoothing it back from her warm cheek. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses and he decided he liked them that way.

‘Dev.’ There was a small silence, then, ‘You still don’t have to marry me. Really, if you think about it, I’m not supposed to be here at all.’

‘That’s right,’ he agreed, flipping the quilt over them. They were still joined together and he was in no hurry to sever the connection. ‘You are here by accident. I hadn’t forgotten.’

‘So there is really no need…’

‘None at all.’ She was soft and pliant now but still infinitely desirable. He had the measure of it now. It had taken him by surprise last night, but now he understood.

Sophie grinned. They had been on a fence mending visit to Cumberland to sooth her parents, greet her siblings and generally let the world know that, far from being ruined, Sophie was now a very respectably married woman. It might have been better if they’d gone several weeks beforehand but initially they had found it difficult to leave their country house retreat and then Roxburghe had insisted they get married. ‘We’ve shocked the entire county. Poor Mama is mortified although I think the effusive congratulations are helping her to thaw. Nobody ever thought I’d capture a marquis.’

Dev’s hand reached out to take her own. He pulled her against him, settling her at his side and she fitted there perfectly. They were on their way to the continent to embark on a somewhat delayed honeymoon. The Marquis had wanted to meet her family first and quash any unfortunate rumors.

At least one objective had been achieved, Sophie reflected ruefully. The rumors still abounded.

She knew that she had gotten things around the wrong way. A nice girl did
not
sleep with a man before they were married, although they had done precious little sleeping in the days following that first tempestuous coupling. Even now, the thought of their uninhibited lovemaking could make her blush, even as it stirred up passions that found an answering echo in the man sitting beside her.

It was all very unexpected.

Unfortunately, neither Alice nor her aunt were talking to her, or so she’d learned from her uncle who had written to offer his congratulations on her union. The tone of the letter suggested that he found his family’s attitude inexplicable but Sophie was sure neither his wife nor his daughter would tell him why. He did hint, however, that Alice might well be getting married herself, to Lord Halstead, a most worthy man.

‘Poor Sophie; no matter how much you long to play by Society’s rules, that sinful little body of yours won’t let you.’ And he slipped a hand up to cup a breast through the bodice of her gown, squeezing it gently. Instead of pushing it away, Sophie wiggled appreciatively.

‘And you?’ she murmured, ‘Are
you
happy, my Lord?’

He thought about the long years of loneliness. His mother gone when he was so young, his father such a notorious rake and drunkard that half the houses in London where closed to him. Long years, where he had locked himself away, determined never to be hurt or abandoned again.

Until Sophie.

‘Dear heart, you
are
my happiness. Something I intend to demonstrate for the rest of my life. Starting with tonight.’

Sophie smiled, grateful for accidents and fate and the man beside her.

And so very grateful for the night that lay ahead of them and all the nights that would follow.

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