Taming the Rake (21 page)

He stroked her with his finger until she writhed on the table and her hips lifted in silent entreaty. But it wasn’t enough. “Tell me,” he urged, his voice a husky rasp.

“I want you.”

“To what?” His finger skimmed along her entrance.

She looked at him like she hated him. “To touch me.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “To be inside me.”

Her words nearly undid him. Coventry felt the head of his cock bead, he knew he was in danger of release, but still he held himself back—giving her what she asked for.

“Here?” His finger slid deep inside her, stroking, until she pressed her mound against his hand.

“Yes. Oh, God, that feels so good.” She writhed on the table, achingly close. Leaving his finger deep inside her, he gently massaged her most sensitive spot with his thumb until she shattered, pulsing and shaking in violent release. He covered her cries with his mouth as he worked her unmercifully with his hands, forcing her to peak again.

Watching her in the throes of orgasm was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His chest tightened painfully, squeezing the breath from him. He could no longer feign indifference. The wave of emotion was so overwhelming, he could not deny that he’d begun to care for her. In bringing her pleasure, he’d opened a part of him that he’d thought safely locked away forever.

Now
, the voice in the back of his head cried.
Take her now
. Every inch of his body raged with unspent passion. She was soft and warm and perfectly wet for him. He wanted to. God knows how much he wanted to.

But he couldn’t.

He cursed. Rather than unbutton his breaches, Coventry pulled away.

If he took her, it would be a mistake. And not just because of her father. Instinctively, he knew that sex with Lady Georgina would not just be sex. It would be dangerous. He might never be able to turn back. Taking her would not end his torment, it would only begin his torment.

Unspent lust turned to anger. He was furious. Furious with himself, with her, with his painful erection.

He jerked her up from the table, rougher than he’d intended. He just wanted her gone. His chest hurt even to look at her.

Her face paled beneath the rosy flush of sated passion, causing something hard to lodge in his gut.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her hand went to his arm.

He tensed. The gentleness of her touch made him lash out. “Your lesson is over.”

Horrified, her eyes widened. Coventry refused to be affected. Distancing himself, he ignored the crush of guilt.

“But you didn’t… You haven’t…”

“Now you know the difference.” He ignored the reference to his own unsated state. “I trust you won’t confuse the two again.” After what he’d just done to her, what they’d just shared, he sounded impossibly cold, even to himself.

She looked at him, imploring him with overlarge eyes that completely dominated her face not to hurt her. She looked like a kitten, and he felt like a beast. Her voice was so low he could barely hear her. “This was only to prove your point?”

He turned his back to her. “Why else?”

“I thought…” Her voice dropped off.

“I warned you that this was not a game, Lady Georgina. Perhaps, now you will understand. If I were your husband, you would be mine to take—or not—at my whim.”

She blanched. “I see. And would the same rule apply to your wife. Would she be free to take or not at her whim?”

Unbidden, images of his unfaithful wife sprang to mind. Hatred curdled inside him. “You should be thanking me for refusing what was so freely offered. I made you come, yes, but I didn’t ruin you. Your husband will still find his bride a virgin.”

The vulgar words shocked them both. He heard her sharp intake of breath before her hand whipped out. He could have stopped her, but he didn’t. He deserved it. The slap echoed like a shot. With one last look that he would remember for a lifetime, she ran from the room with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Tears that tore like acid beneath the armor that encased his heart.

Humiliated, a searing pain twisting in her chest, Gina raced from the room as if the devil were nipping at her heels. Tears blurred her vision. She hated that he’d seen her cry. But she’d felt so uncertain, so vulnerable after what he’d done to her, her emotions had bubbled right to the surface.

The most wondrous, intimate moment of her life had been shattered in an instant by the cold lash of his vile tongue. How could a man that had kissed her with such passion one minute treat her so cruelly the next?

She should never have come looking for him. But she hadn’t been able to eat when she’d noticed he wasn’t at supper. She’d felt ill wondering whether he was with that strumpet Lady Darby, who’d practically thrown herself at him the moment they entered the ballroom.

And now look what Gina had done, what she’d allowed him to do. She was no better than Lady Darby. He’d touched her in the most intimate of places and made her fall apart in his arms, ready to gift him with her maidenhead. After fortune and connections, it was the only thing men seemed to value in a wife.

The horror of the situation suddenly caught up with her, how perilously close she’d come to ruin. Panicked, nausea tossed in her stomach. She raced to the powder room. Her hand went to her mouth, still bruised and swollen from his kisses. Bile rose in her throat.

She made it just in time.

When she’d finished, Gina took a seat on a nearby stool. The bitter irony of the situation was not lost on her. If anyone came searching for her, she wouldn’t need to feign illness.

Bowing her head in her hands, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her tumultuous insides. What was she going to do? She wanted him, and it had nothing to do with a bet. He’d kissed her, touched her, and opened up an entire new world to her. A world of passion. And now that she’d found it, she feared that she wouldn’t be able to relinquish it so easily.

Was it always like that for a man and a woman? She didn’t think so; she’d been kissed before and felt nothing compared to what she’d felt tonight.

Had it truly only been a game to him?

The pain in her chest tightened.

Gina didn’t want to believe he could be so unfeeling. She had a nagging suspicion that there was something very wrong about the scene that had just occurred. She’d seen the expression in his eyes when he’d touched her. It hadn’t only been desire, there was more. His expression was almost reverent. Adoring. He looked as if he truly cared for her.

She shook her head. She was a fool. He’d made his feelings plain enough. Wasn’t he merely living up to his reputation as a heartless rake, a debaucher of innocents?

She popped upright on the stool.

But if that were true, why hadn’t he taken her virginity? His words, crude though they were, were not false. She had offered, and he had refused. What had stopped him from taking what she knew he wanted?

Could it be that there was a thin streak of honor in him after all? Did he care for her, or was he really as unfeeling as he wanted her to think he was?

“You’re sure nothing happened in Newmarket?” Cecelia’s dark brows formed a delicate “v” over her tiny nose. “You haven’t been quite yourself since your return. You seem distressed about something.”

Gina’s cheeks heated, though she tried not to let it show. “I wish there was more to tell, but I’ve relayed everything of importance.” Well, mostly everything. There were some details that were too intimate, even for best friends. Besides, Gina was embarrassed to have so easily fallen prey to the well-known wiles of a notorious rake like Coventry. Her friends would be shocked. In truth, she didn’t quite believe it herself.

Gina forced her thoughts away from what had occurred in the card room. She’d been back in London for nearly a week, and she’d thought about what he’d done to her far more often than she wanted to admit. It had been amazing. Until he’d ruined it.

Gina hadn’t seen him since she’d left Greenbrook on Saturday. Their arrival in London on Monday had been greeted by the shocking news of Prime Minister Perceval’s assassination earlier that day. Fears of a French plot had circulated throughout the ton, but were quickly disproved by the quick arrest of John Bellingham. Social events had largely been put on hold for the week during the trial, culminating with a finding of guilt the previous day.

Despite the length of time that had passed, Gina still couldn’t decide whether she never wanted to see Coventry again, or whether she wanted to put the screws to him for treating her so repugnantly. Probably a little of both. The more she thought about it, the stronger the suspicion that there was more to his behavior than first appeared. Clearly, he’d wanted to push her away, the question was why.

In any event, Cecelia was right. She had been feeling a bit melancholy since her return from the country. Coventry’s rejection had stung more than she would have thought possible—especially coming on the heels of such a staggering personal failing on her part. How had it happened so quickly? One minute she was in control and the next she was practically begging him to have his way with her. She’d behaved like a wanton and nearly lost her virginity in the process. She could have been ruined by a man who wouldn’t have spared her fate a second thought.

She was furious with herself, but she was also inexplicably sad—thus the melancholy the twins had noticed.

Her friends were still studying her with concern. Gina shrugged, downplaying her moodiness. “Our wager has been more difficult than I anticipated.”

Claire furrowed her fair brows. “They’re slippery little devils, aren’t they?”

Her befuddled expression brought a smile to Gina’s face. “They are indeed.”

“What will you do next?” Cecelia asked.

Gina sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve cleaned up his life the best I can, and demonstrated all that a proper wife can do for him, but, to use Claire’s analogy, he won’t bite. He’s more stubborn than I realized.” She frowned. “And there’s something else. Coventry has a true repugnance toward marriage. I’m convinced that it must have something to do with his first wife.”

Cecelia looked at her strangely. “You mean you don’t know?”

“I know that he was unfaithful and that she died giving birth to a child.”
The lout
. Gina didn’t bother to hide her disdain.

Cecelia bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to say something. “Claire, dearest, will you fetch me my dark green pelisse with the black braid? It’s up in the cupboard in my chamber. Tessie will help you find it.”

“But it’s not cold outside,” Claire whined. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“Be a darling, won’t you?”

It was said so prettily, Gina knew Claire wouldn’t be able to refuse. She didn’t. Resigned to doing her sister’s bidding, Claire turned to head back inside. “Very well, but you won’t say anything while I’m gone will you?”

“Don’t be a pea,” Cecelia assured her with a brilliant smile.

But as soon as Claire had left the garden, Cecelia sobered and motioned to a stone bench overlooking the large classical fountain that occupied the center of the rose garden. Stafford House, the marquess’s townhouse on Grosvenor Square, boasted one of the most beautiful gardens in London, and the girls often spent their morning hours outside.

Curious as to what would require such an obvious ploy to get rid of Claire, Gina eagerly took the seat next to her.

Cecelia lowered her voice so that they would not be overheard by Lady Stafford. The twins’ mother was sitting at the writing desk near an open window in the blue drawing room that overlooked the rose garden. Lady Stafford found unseemly in her daughters that which she undertook with relish: gossip.

“What you have said is correct, but there is much more.” Cece paused and took a deep breath. “Lady Coventry was every bit as profligate as her husband, if not more so. She was shockingly bold about her affairs. She had a reputation for a sharp tongue, and from what I understand, it was often publicly directed at belittling her husband. It became so bad that they couldn’t be in the same room together. There’s one story that’s still bandied about. It happened some years ago, well before either of us were out, but I overheard my mother and her friends discussing how Coventry was so angry with Lord Petersham—one of his wife’s paramours—that he tried to flog him in the street with his riding whip.” At Gina’s horrified gasp, Cecelia continued. “As you can imagine, such an unbridled display of emotion was a great source of amusement to the ton. Although I remember my mother and her friends feeling sorry for Coventry at the time. He was a young man then, and didn’t enjoy nearly the reputation he has today.”

“How horrible,” Gina said. Poor Coventry.

Cecelia nodded. “Of course it was widely believed that the child was not his.”

“I see.” A large block of dread settled in her stomach. No wonder he could not abide the idea of remarrying, when his first wife was so scandalously unfaithful. Suddenly her taunt in the card room came back to her. Was that what had precipitated his cruelty? “Why did you not tell me this before?”

“I thought you knew. It is not exactly a secret, though I suppose since the countess’s death it is not talked about as much.” Cecelia frowned at her. “Don’t look like you feel so sorry for him, Gina. It might explain why he doesn’t want another wife, but it doesn’t excuse his despicable conduct with Lady Alice and the countless others like her.”

No, it didn’t. But coupled with his deplorable childhood, it explained quite a lot about the man. No wonder he seemed so cold, the people who were supposed to love him had failed him at every turn. Gina was saved from having to respond by the hurried return of Claire.

Claire stood with her hands on her hips, glaring back and forth between them suspiciously. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?”

“Of course not,” Cecelia dismissed.

Claire pouted, obviously not believing her. “You two are forever leaving me out. I always miss the good stuff.”

“How do you know it’s good if you’re not here?” Cecelia said playfully.

Taking pity on her, Gina made room for Claire on the bench and patted the space next to her. “It really was nothing, dearest. I was only about to ask Cecelia how things were progressing with Mr. Ryder.”