Dangerous Gentlemen (Daughters of Sin 2)

“Your willingness and your genuine pleasure in my attentions endorse your sincerity and bolster my reasons for begging you to meet me.”

She stiffened. “To seduce me?”

“To make you my wife.”

Shock blackened her vision. She gave herself a little shake and opened her eyes once more, the warmth of his smile reassuring her that she’d heard correctly.

“My wife, Hetty,” he repeated, though she’d said nothing. The darkening of his eyes and the tensing around his mouth bore out his next words. “The last few days have been torment. I’ve thought my fevered agitation was due to the letter being so within my reach. Then I realized I’d lived without it long enough. That time was erasing the slur upon my good name and that it wasn’t in fact the letter I longed to get my hands on…it was you.”

He’d lavished attention upon her and now she realized he’d made no move to release himself from his trousers and set upon her with the enthusiasm of his prior lovemaking.

Through constricted airways she breathed, “You’re asking me to marry you?”

He nodded, placing his hands on her shoulders and bringing his face close to hers. “I’m asking you to marry me.”

She sucked in a breath. The pressure inside her was nearly unbearable. She longed to feel his body respond with hers. Not just now, but forever. “Why?”

He rolled his eyes then pulled her skirts higher and skimmed her thighs with the flat of his hand. “Because I find your luscious curves even more desirable than the first time I became acquainted with them during our unexpected introduction.” Drawing down the lace at her décolletage, he kissed the nipple he’d deftly exposed, circling it with his tongue before gently sucking on it, making Hetty writhe and whimper.

His hot, moist breath was driving her mad with lust. She wanted him as much as she wanted to hear his words. Wanted to be clasped within his naked embrace so they both could share this moment equally.

But he seemed happy to take his time. Or rather, murmur in the most deliciously intimate way while he sent her to Heaven and back.

Hetty was registering on two levels. While her body was pulsing with need, her heart was growing fuller by the moment, the more he explained the effect she had on him.

“But then I became acquainted with your sweet nature…” Moving up, he kissed her brow, her eyes and nose and then finally her lips as he finished, “And your wonderful capacity for love and forgiveness. You are the complete woman, Hetty.” The words were a gentle vibration against her skin. “And I’ve realized I don’t want to settle for less. Will you accept my offer, Hetty? Will you be my wife?”

What a question? He’d well and truly convinced her of his sincerity and her joy knew no bounds.

“Oh yes,” she whispered as she arched against his probing fingers, fumbling for his breeches. “Oh yes, Sir Aubrey, and now you must take your pleasure too. I want us both to enjoy the moment.”

She registered the amusement in his voice as he asked, “What makes you think I’m not enjoying your responses enough to satisfy me? We are not yet wed, Hetty, and I am mindful of your reputation. Whatever the temptations, I set out tonight determined to draw from you the response I wanted and to resist the temptation of taking advantage of you until we are legally bound together as husband and wife.”

“But that’ll be weeks!” she cried, her dismay making him laugh and tighten his hold on her.

Trailing kisses along her jawline, he said softly, “Tonight. I’m glad to hear you are as impatient as I. But dearest Hetty, I am an honorable man and an honorable man does not intentionally deflower a virgin. Hush!” He stayed her protest with a finger laid gently over her lips.

“You gave me an out and I’d have taken it, had I truly not wished to marry you. I told myself you would be better off given your freedom but within a day I was tormented by thoughts of what I was throwing away.” He kissed her again. “I love you, Hetty. I want to look after you, cherish you and make you happy. I want you to love me and have my children but I’m an honorable man and I will not risk your good name until we are legally wed. Today I have gained your father’s consent—yes, even despite the slur to my reputation.” He gave a wry laugh. “I happen to count the Archbishop of Canterbury amongst my friends and so have organized a special license. His representative will be arriving here in half an hour to marry us.”

“In a supper box in Vauxhall Gardens? Oh—oh! Ooooh…!”

With wicked intent, he’d resumed his pleasuring and now she’d reached the summit. Gasping, she arched against him, the pressure bursting within her, filling her mind and body with the most exquisite sensations. He gave a satisfied chuckle as she bucked against him, pushing her hands away when she resumed her efforts to unbutton his breeches.

“Patience, Hetty. In an hour, when you are my wife, we can both partake without fear and without guilt. But for now, your virtue remains safe with me.”

Joy swirled through her as he helped her to her feet. He loved her. He’d said it in so many words and now he was going to prove it.

Cupping her f

ace, he stared into her eyes. “I want to hear you say something, Hetty. Something that makes me believe you want this as much as I do. Not because you need to make a good match by the end of the season.”

She felt her mouth stretch into a wide, irrepressible grin. “Oh yes, I’ll marry you, though I could do so much better than you, Sir Aubrey. Not my words, sir, but the words of those who believe the false rumors about you.” She reached for her reticule, the joy building within her that at last she could prove her love beyond doubt. “However, once this is made public,” rising as she fumbled for the letter within the delicately embroidered bag, she whispered, “there will be no more false rumors.”

She glanced at the anticipation on his face and felt her excitement grow as her seeking fingers explored the silk interior of her bag.

Her handkerchief made a soft wad of cloth in the bottom but there was no sharp edge of parchment to make contact with her seeking fingers.

Where was it? Where was the letter she’d transferred from beneath her chemise earlier that evening?