Dangerous Gentlemen (Daughters of Sin 2)

Besides, it was essential for Hetty to know exactly what Lady Margaret had revealed about her husband. Hetty’s future hinged upon it.

“Hea

rd about what?”

Hetty shook her head, trying to think clearly. Wiping away her tears, she demanded, “Couldn’t you see I was fighting him off? Your townhouse is only a block away. I was on my way to see you. I had no idea this was where this…Lord Debenham lives or what he is to you but clearly he wanted,” she sniffed and her voice trembled even more, “revenge…and I was the means of exacting it.”

She saw his shock and went on. “He told me he saw the two of us together at Lady Kilmore’s.” Hetty put her head on one side. “Since I was almost dragged off by this horrible creature against my will and all on account of the fact he saw you kissing me, perhaps you’d care to explain what enmity exists between the two of you.”

Sir Aubrey’s expression softened and his tone was contrite when he finally spoke. “Hetty, I apologize for my anger just now.” He reached for her hands and began to chafe them gently while he explained. “My late wife was this man’s cousin.” He looked bleak. “I’m afraid she was also his lover. She was not of sound mind when she killed herself but Lord Debenham blames me.”

Hurling herself into his arms, Hetty sobbed, “I didn’t mean to get myself into trouble like that and I’m so, so glad you saved me—just in time!”

* * * * *

How pleasant it was to sink into a soft feather mattress and feel his arms about her while he navigated his way past her hoops, petticoats and chemise. A single lighted candle suffused the room in a soft glow and his voice was gentle.

“I’d like to think you’d have a pleasanter time of it lying beneath me.” His breath tickled her ear as he joined her on the mattress and pulled her against his side. “My poor Henrietta has had a great shock.” Touching his lips to hers, he stroked her cheek. His eyes, which could blaze with such anger, were warm with affection. “I don’t deny some think a woman who makes her living like you do should be prepared for any manner of approaches and have lost the right to discern, but no woman ought to suffer unwanted advances.”

He stopped Hetty’s gasp of outrage with another kiss, deeper and more demanding this time as his hands roamed her body, caressing her curves, her rounded buttocks as he rucked up her skirts. She raised herself to give him access, reveling in the flood of warmth such contact brought. Tenderly, he gazed down at her, smiling his satisfaction at her sighs and gentle moans.

“I thought you might like that,” he whispered as he gently rubbed the raised bud of her sex, his desire to please her evident as he experimented with different approaches to stirring her blood. “What about this? No? Then what about this?”

His tongue circled her areola, flicking over her nipple and causing her to arch her back in pleasure. She cupped his face against her breasts, kissing his soft, dark hair and thinking this must be the closest to heaven she’d ever get, for she surely had lost her ticket there if being good and virtuous was a requirement.

She didn’t care. She was never going to find happiness through marriage. Not when competing with a sister like Araminta.

He was a considerate lover. She knew that, even though she had no one with whom to compare. After he’d fully aroused her, he undressed her carefully, admiring each piece of skin, each limb he uncovered, and when he had her completely naked he gazed at her appreciatively.

“No one has ever looked at me like that,” she murmured, touching his cheek as he knelt to position himself at her entrance. He was huge and her insides churned with excitement and desire. She swallowed, watching the concentration on his face as he caged her with his lean, muscled body. “Plain Hetty is what they call me.” Though Wicked Hetty was a more apt moniker. She didn’t care. Her temperature had soared and her heart was pounding, sweat prickled her skin and she wriggled, parting her legs and pushing forward so that his shaft was suddenly buried within her.

“Magnificent Hetty.” He exhaled on a groan before driving into her in a series of quick, eager thrusts that had them climaxing together within moments.

He laughed when his breathing had subsided and he pulled her against him. “I usually last longer than that. What spell have you cast upon me, my marvelous work in progress? For I think you might have remained plain had you not fallen into my hands in the nick of time.”

The kiss he planted on her lips was tender but within minutes he was ravishing her once more with double the enthusiasm of their previous proceedings.

Later, in the quiet aftermath of their lovemaking, Hetty idly stroked his lean torso while he, misinterpreting her silence, said, “Have no fears. I shall instruct Madame Chambon to release you from your contract so that I might continue to enjoy you exclusively. I find you utterly charming and I want to keep you safe, my little Henrietta.” His look was thoughtful as he toyed with her right nipple, making her squirm. “At the first opportunity I shall call upon Madame Chambon and discharge my obligations to her. Then I shall install you in some charming bower so I can enjoy you whenever I wish.”

The contemplation of such a scenario fortunately blinded him to her shocked response and by the time he returned his gaze to hers, she’d mastered herself. “Before you say a word, my enchanting Henrietta, let me repeat my assertion that I have no need to know why you chose this path, though I do not imagine it was something you embarked upon lightly—”

Oh Lord. Yes, she’d chosen her path. By accident, it was true, but she’d been mistress of her destiny from the start. The astonishing sense of power she found in making her own decisions had propelled her onward. Whoever would have imagined Miss Henrietta Partington was capable of such boldness?

“I don’t ever want to be with another man,” she whispered urgently and the idea that this would all come to a terrible finale brought tears to her eyes.

He toyed with her hair as they lay curled in each other’s arms. “Truth be told, I’m too fond of you to see that happen…and I don’t want to share you.”

Of course he was not asking her to marry him, he wanted her to be his mistress. But a man chose a mistress because he desired her.

He chose a wife for dynastic reasons.

“Madame Chambon is out of town until the end of next week,” Hetty managed weakly, hoping her lame response would give her the time she needed to extricate herself from the consequences of her lies.

“Then as soon as she returns, I’ll arrange terms by which you’ll be entirely my responsibility. In fact, your wish is my desire. Tomorrow you shall accompany me in search of a townhouse where you shall have everything just as you like it.”

He was eager to please her, which was delightful, however matters were proceeding rather too fast.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned by her lack of enthusiasm.