Marcus knew their own marriage would be very different-far from cold-blooded. But he would have to change Arabella’s perspective by escalating the intimacy of their relationship.
He wanted to show her pleasure she’d never even dreamed of, for her own sake as well as the sake of his courtship and his own gratification. She truly had no idea what she was missing by disavowing men. Marcus was convinced that once she understood how pleasurable their marriage bed would be, she would be much more inclined to accept his proposal.
He also knew he would be playing with fire, considering the effort it took to control his own primal urges when he merely touched her. But an urgency was growing in him to win her and put an end to this state of uncertainty.
Resolving to make his next move, Marcus sat up and wiped his hands on a cloth napkin, then took her glass from her and set it aside.
At his unexpected action, Arabella suddenly grew tense. “Marcus, I was not finished eating.”
“You can finish later. For now, it’s time we proceeded to the next step in our courtship.”
“What do you mean?” she asked warily.
“I intend to teach you about lovemaking.”
She felt her heart start to pound. “We agreed you wouldn’t go beyond the limits of gentlemanly conduct.”
“But you want me to.”
Arabella opened her mouth to deny it but couldn’t.
When she fell mute, Marcus scrutinized her face. “Just because you refuse to marry me, doesn’t mean you don’t want to experience passion.”
His assertion had a significant truth to it, Arabella acknowledged. She couldn’t help wondering about passion. But she shook her head. “I won’t do anything so shameless, Marcus. I mean to remain chaste outside the marriage bed.”
“I can show you about passion without taking your virginity.”
“I know.” When his eyebrow shot up, she colored a little in embarrassment. “I am not entirely ignorant about lovemaking. A friend of mine told me about the procedure in detail.”
Wry amusement curved his mouth. “What sort of friend would foster a proper young lady’s carnal education?”
“A close childhood friend,” Arabella responded, her chin lifting. “Fanny Irwin. I should think you would know her, since she is currently one of the most celebrated Cyprians in London.”
“We have a passing acquaintance,” Marcus replied mildly, “although I have never patronized her.”
Somehow that casual revelation comforted Arabella. “Fanny is my age, but she is far more experienced
than I. She was our neighbor in Hampshire before she left home to make a new life for herself in London’s demimonde. We remained fast friends, even though her family disowned her for her wickedness.” Arabella smiled a little defiantly. “I continued to acknowledge her during my comeout in London, before our own scandal, and afterward, Fanny was one of the few people who stuck by me and my sisters. She even visited us here on occasion after we came to live with our step-uncle. Fanny told me a good deal about her new life.”
“And she satisfied your curiosity about lovemaking?”
“Well, I admit I was curious. And when I became betrothed, I asked her what I should expect on my wedding night. So I know in theory what is supposed to happen.”
“But knowing in theory is not the same as experiencing for yourself,” Marcus said. “Come, admit it. You want me to show you what our wedding night will be like.”
At his confident tone, Arabella narrowed her gaze on him. “We will not be having a wedding night. And you cannot kiss me witless to convince me otherwise.”
When his own eyes narrowed speculatively on her mouth, Arabella realized her mistake. “That was not a challenge,” she hurriedly said.
“It was a challenge. My male pride is at stake.”
“Marcus…” she exclaimed as he reached for her.
The smile he gave her was utterly beautiful and utterly maddening. “Let me demonstrate, darling.”
Before she could scurry out of harm’s way, he pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. Arabella opened her mouth to protest, but he took possession of it with searing deliberation. Clasping her nape in a firm hold, he gave her a lingering, blatantly sexual kiss that heated her blood and set her pulse racing.
She was breathless when Marcus finally broke off to gaze down at her. “You heard your patroness last night, Arabella. Loneliness is a bleak bedfellow.”