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Authors: Alice Gaines

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“Worse than that. Her father was a perfect bastard.” She straightened, as if she’d surprised herself with her language. “I’m sorry, but that’s what he was.”

“You needn’t apologize to me.”

“He took out his grief on his children. He blamed them for stealing time and love he could have had with his wife.”

“That’s what the cook said.”

This time, she put her hand on his. “You know about Ruth?”

“When I was in New York, I made it my business to find out,” he said.

“Juliet’s always told that story as if it were funny,” she said. “So like Juliet.”

“Story?”

“The story about looking for Ruth. Juliet searched the house for months after her father got rid of the woman.”

“Oh, dear God.” If only the bastard could walk in at this very moment, he’d teach him something about how to treat children. His own parents had been conventional people, much like other people of their station in society. But they’d always tolerated him—even when the wild streak that arose in every other generation of Winslows showed in his temperament.

Headstrong.
Harry. He and his grandmother shared that trait. His father had always apologized to his mother for Harry’s behavior.
Forgive her, my dear. She means well. She’s just headstrong.

No wonder Juliet had captivated him since the first moment they’d met. No wonder every idiotic thing she did fascinated him. She was meant for him. She was
the
woman Harry had sent him searching for.

“…Unlovable,” Miss Rhodes was saying.

“I’m sorry. My mind wandered. Would you repeat that?”

“And so, between her family and all the men who’ve only wanted her money, Juliet’s convinced no one can love her.” She paused. “She thinks she’s unlovable.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He shot out of his chair again. “She has you, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, we’re friends. That’s different.”

“Perhaps I should try to be her friend, too.”

She laughed, a deep and robust sound for such a modest, young woman. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Right,” he said. “Well, thank you.”

She blushed. “I’d rather Juliet didn’t know I told you all this.”

“Our secret. Now, you’d better take her that dress before she tries to go back wearing her disguise from last night.’

She rose. “Was it awful?”

“Dreadful.”

“I’d better get upstairs quickly, then.”

“Third door on the left.”

She walked to the doorway.

“Miss Rhodes, I hope we can be friends, or at least, allies.”

She turned back to him. “I’m sure we can.”

“Good. Tell Miss Foster I’ll call for her at tea time.”

She smiled and curtseyed. “I’ll do that, Lord Derrington.”

Chapter Nine

The impossible man looked even more handsome than he had the day before. He wore the same tasteful sort of clothing he always wore—a suit of the latest fashion, cut precisely to fit his impressive frame. Not showy, not ostentatious, just elegant.

No, nothing about his dress or his hair or his face had changed since the day before. But now, Juliet knew what he looked like by candlelight as he covered her body with his own and stared down at her, his eyes hot with hunger. She’d felt the velvet of his skin under her palms. She’d lain in his heat with the evidence of his arousal pressing into her flesh. And then, he’d done those amazing things with his mouth. Any woman would have to think him the most beautiful creature on Earth after all of that.

Today she couldn’t take her eyes off him. And every time she looked at him, she found him staring back.

Lord and Lady Mitford must have noticed. They’d suggested this private walk in the garden. The exact place where he’d first touched that intimate place between her legs, although her hosts couldn’t have known about that. No, the garden was simply the logical place for them to go for some time alone with each other. Miracle of miracles, Millie hadn’t volunteered to come along either.

“I think we’re being maneuvered together, Lord Derrington,” she said as they walked between the roses.

“Lady Mitford doesn’t seem to know you can manage that very well without help,” he answered.

She couldn’t help but blush. “Last night.”

“You really mustn’t try that again,” he said. “It isn’t safe.”

“You’re right, but I’m glad I did it.” She stopped and took his hands in hers. “What you did…in your bed…it was so delicious.”

“It was the sweetest torment imaginable.”

She placed a palm on his cheek. “Torment?”

“I wanted so much more.”

“You can have it,” she said. “Any time you want.”

“With my wife.”

“This was going so well.” She dropped her hands by her side. “Don’t ask me to marry you again.”

“Very well. Once a day will be my limit. I won’t propose again until tomorrow.”

His eyes had that wicked twinkle in them. The one she’d noticed the first time they’d met. She’d watched him with several people now, and he only used that on her. It was endearing. Something special between the two of them. Maybe he’d twinkle even more when they’d finally become lovers.

The twinkle turned into a devilish smile. “You haven’t kissed me yet today.”

She rested a hand on his chest and leaned toward him. “Do you think Lord and Lady Mitford are watching?”

“He may not be, but I’m sure she is.”

“And we wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Certainly not.”

“Then, here you are.” She lifted her lips to his. It felt so natural to kiss him now. So inevitable. He put his arms around her and pulled her against him as his mouth led hers in the dance that always stole her breath and warmed her heart.

The caress lingered, gentle enough for someone to watch and sensual enough to curl her toes. He nibbled on her lower lip and then touched it with his tongue. She sighed and moved closer to him.

He stiffened and put his hands on her arms to move her away. “No more. Not with an audience.”

“Afraid you can’t resist me?”

“I know I can’t resist you,” he said. “Let’s find a more private place.”

A thrill rushed through her. There would be more intimate kisses. He took her hand and led her to a bench. After taking his own seat, he pulled her onto his knee and took her in his arms again. Now, she had to look down at him. An odd feeling, but not unpleasant. She ran her fingers over his jaw. He must have shaved just before coming here because his skin didn’t have the least bit of stubble. He’d done it for her. The handholding, the kiss in front of someone else, the fact that he’d shaved for her—showed he did value her and want her.

He gazed up at her with that same rakish light in his eyes, but something lay behind that. Tenderness, maybe. His lashes lowered, and his lips parted. A clear invitation for another kiss. Imagine. She could have his mouth any time she wanted. Any time they were together, she could have his touch. Eventually, she’d have the ultimate with him, too. He couldn’t hold out forever.

She kissed him, fitting her lips to meld with his. His heat surrounded her as his hands roamed her back. She’d had his hands everywhere on her body and knew what they could do. She’d had his mouth, too, and it had done things she’d never imagined possible. This kiss held the promise of more. Even this gentle caress would lead to more and more if they let it. Already, the sweet lethargy enveloped her, fogging her senses and stealing her reason. She could so easily give in to it, lie on the grass, and let him undress her.

He pulled back again, breathing hard. “I have a confession.”

“Something serious enough to break off a kiss?”

“Deadly serious.” He didn’t seem serious, though. Quite the opposite. “You’ve won.”

“Won?”

“Our battle. Marriage versus an illicit affair. You’ve won.”

A thrill rushed through her. “Do you mean we can be lovers?”

“After last night, I realized I can’t possibly resist you. I’m yours for whatever evil plans you have for me.”

“Oh, David.” She threw her arms around him and hugged his neck. “I can’t believe it. I’ve wanted you so much.”

“You shall have me, but I plan to keep proposing every day.”

“Glory Hallelujah,” she said. “I guess I can live through one proposal per day.”

“You are the oddest creature. Things always go the other way between men and women. Always.”

“I can’t stand being like everyone else.”

“So, I see.” He squeezed her a bit tighter to him. “I’d like to ask a favor, though.”

“Anything you want.”

“I’d like to make our first time as romantic and beautiful as possible.”

“Dear man.” She kissed him again, just for a moment. “That sounds divine.”

“Let’s go to Derrington Manor. Just the two of us, alone.”

“Won’t you have servants there?” she asked.

“I’ll make them wear blindfolds.”

“Silly man.” What an image. She couldn’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t want your valet shaving you while blinded.”

He grinned. “Your concern for my health steals my breath away.”

She ran her arms around his shoulders and hugged him with all her strength. “I don’t believe it. Finally. This will really, really happen.”

“As soon as we can get to my ancestral home.”

What a dream. She’d waited this long to have his body. She could wait a few more days. In fact, things would work out better this way. She wouldn’t have to worry about Millie snooping or a servant happening on something private. The staff at the manor would know she was there and would guess the reason for her presence. But they couldn’t easily get word back to London, and no one would send any cables to New York. She would have asked for this herself if she’d thought of it.

“You look pleased,” he said.

“Thrilled.”

“Then perhaps you’d grant me one more favor,” he said.

“All right. What?”

“Once I’ve had you, I won’t be able to settle for one encounter,” he said. “Spend some time with me there. Please.”

Why did that make her suspicious? It wasn’t an odd request, and she probably wouldn’t want to leave immediately, either. Maybe it was the fact that his eyes weren’t twinkling now. It didn’t seem the Derrington way of doing things. He ought to be either cajoling her or ordering her to bend to his will.

She was being foolish. He’d scrambled her brain with promises of deep, sinful kisses and more sinful couplings. She’d go away with him. Enjoy his body until she was ready to move on, and she’d have everything she wanted. “All right. I’ll stay for a while.”

“Good. Pack plenty of clothes. I may rip a few things in my haste to get you naked.”

“Animal.”

“Do you doubt it? Feel my cock and see.”

She reached to his pelvis. He hadn’t lied, not an inch’s worth. “I can’t wait for this.”

He made a low sound in his throat. “I can’t wait, either.”

“When can we leave?”

He grinned at her and pushed her hand away. “Can you be ready at midnight?”

“Midnight?” she said. “Of course, I can. Earlier, if you want.”

He kissed her jaw. “One more favor.”

“How many favors are you going to ask?” she demanded.

“Just one more. Don’t tell anyone that we’re going.”

“Anyone? Not even Millie?”

“I’ve become attached to Lord and Lady Mitford, but we don’t want them to join us for this house party,” he said. “Nor Blandings, either. And I suspect Miss Rhodes might do something to stop you.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.” He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”

That did sound odd. Before she could puzzle it out, he moved his lips to her ear and blew hot breath into it. Everything slipped from her brain except the feel and scent of the man and the images of what would happen once they got to the country.

She shivered. “You’d better let me go now before I tear your clothing off.”

“I was about to say the same thing.”

“Midnight,” she said.

“Midnight.”

***

Juliet Foster’s head felt so right on his shoulder, and her body fit perfectly against his own as the carriage rolled along toward Derrington Manor. Each time a wheel hit a rut or a hole, she’d rock away from him but remain asleep, and he’d hold her carefully, snuggling her back under his arm and staring down into her face. With her eyes closed, she might have resembled an angel. In reality, she was only innocent in one respect, and that would change as soon as they reached the manor. He’d hate himself for taking her virginity if he hadn’t done everything but stand on his head to get her to marry him.

Darkness had fallen long ago, but he’d traveled this landscape often enough to know they’d arrive at the manor in an hour or so if they went directly there. Instead, they’d stop at the inn in the village. Now that he’d become a trickster, he’d set a trap for his opponent should she decide to go wandering later.

The carriage lurched sharply, and she woke with a little yip and opened her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep all this way and leave you alone.”

“You must be exhausted. We’ve hardly stopped traveling since last night.”

“I don’t mind.” Her eyes sparkled in the light from the lanterns swinging on the outside of the carriage. She snuggled up to him. “I hope we’ll be at the manor soon.”

“Soon.”

The carriage rolled past the church, its steeple making a dark outline against the cloudless sky. Starlight flickered down on the village as more and more of it came into view. Houses and smaller cottages, a few with candles flickering from within. All very tidy and welcoming.

Miss Foster pushed away from him and gazed outside as they approached the town square. “How lovely. What is this place?”

“Derrington Heath.”

“Derrington,” she repeated. “Imagine, having a place like this named after yourself.”

“My title comes from here, not the other way around.”

“Still, you must be proud.”

He’d never thought of things that way. Things were the way they were, no more. He stroked her cheek with his finger. “It makes me proud that you admire my home.”

She smiled, and with more light, he might have seen her blush. Where was the creature who had defied him at every turn? Once he’d agreed to teach her the ways of the flesh—an honor by anyone’s measure—it seemed she’d come to trust him. She’d let him take her away in the middle of the night, all alone. She had no friends here, no family, and no way to contact the outside world unless he allowed it.

The carriage rolled up to the inn and stopped. Miss Foster turned to him and quirked a brow. “We’re not going to the manor?”

“After a bit. We need to eat, and my cook will have gone to bed already.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said.

“You’ll need your strength,” he said. “For your ordeal. Later.”

She huffed at him. “Honestly.”

“Vixen, you’ve pushed me past endurance. I may not be gentle with you.” He’d meant that as a joke, but the words might have more than some reality to them. She had pushed him, hard. Heaven knew what he’d do when he wouldn’t have to stop himself. His rational mind might have no say in the matter.

“Come on,” he said. “The food in here is simple but good.”

He opened the door of the hired coach and climbed out. What a journey it had been. His gig from London to Chatham, where they’d waited for a train. Now, this conveyance to take them to the manor, as no one there expected them and wouldn’t have sent a carriage to pick them up. His staff from London would catch up eventually.

“Don’t unpack. We’ll be going on to the manor,” he said to the hired driver. “Go inside and have some food and drink.”

“Aye, my lord,” the man said.

That taken care of, he helped Miss Foster from the carriage. Holding her hat onto her head, she tipped her head back and studied the inn. “Derrington Arms.”

“A bit of an affectation, that. Something like the Pig and Whistle would fit the place better.”

“I like it,” she said.

“Then, why don’t you become Lady Derrington?” He gestured around him. “All this can be yours.”

She gave him the usual sour look, but some of the bite had drained out of it.

“I’m allowed. I haven’t proposed to you yet today and it’s almost midnight.” He leaned toward her. “I’ll ask you to marry me again before we fall asleep.”

“Then, that will count for tomorrow, won’t it?” She put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him away. “I’m hungry, after all.”

He curled her arm around his. “I exist to feed all your appetites.”

She huffed again but smiled. She was thoroughly enjoying herself, and he’d be an idiot if he weren’t, too. He escorted her inside. The main room was warm and cheery, as it always was. Except for the almost total lack of patrons, one would think they’d come at a much earlier hour. A few men in the corner played dice entirely too loudly. Farmhands, by the look of them, drinking up their pay. The innkeeper would find them beds to sleep the stout off at no charge. Good for his fellow man and good for business. The kindness always brought them back. Always.

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