The Art of Taming a Rake (Legendary Lovers 4)

His restraint surprised her, though. Surely this was not how he behaved with his usual sexual conquests. He managed to entertain her and enchant her instinctively rather than from obvious calculation.

Of course, enchantment was inherent to his very nature, as innate as breathing, but she would have expected him to be the very essence of devilish seduction. Instead, his attempts to persuade her were not overly overt. He relied on mere looks, the occasional touch, a tender tone of voice. It was almost as if he were wooing her.

He was also giving her a glimpse of the real man behind the captivating facade. In addition to fishing and picnics and visiting the cave, they went on long, ambling walks together through woodlands and meadows, where they debated favorite books and artists and food. Quinn questioned her about her art studies and the intellectual salons in Paris. In turn he shared stories about his close-knit family, including his antics as a boy and his sister’s and his uncle Cornelius’s recent marriages.

Venetia appreciated that he didn’t press her about her own family, since the subject was so painful. He seemed sensitive to her moods and feelings, as a world-class lover should be.

And although she struggled with conflicting emotions, it grew easier each day to imagine them becoming lovers.

She was intently aware of the burning desire she felt for Quinn. The fact that he was actually her lawful husband made him even harder to resist. As did sleeping in an adjacent bedchamber with only a door to separate them.

She deplored his masculine beauty also.

Her attraction was not only physical, though. Her feelings were evolving the more time she spent with him.

Her own vanity played at least a small role, undoubtedly. Quinn made her feel wanted, made her feel like a desirable woman again, repairing her shaken self-esteem and restoring her confidence in small measure.

Venetia tried valiantly to keep her distance, but by week’s end, she knew she was failing. Indeed, she could no longer remember why it was so crucial to oppose him. She couldn’t deny the taut awareness, the bone-melting attraction, the stab of longing deep in her belly each time he merely looked at her.

Nor could she ignore a simple realization: He not only was giving her the power of choice, he was waiting for her to seize the initiative. It was up to her to take the next step.

Quinn came slowly awake in his bed, his body hot, his cock throbbing as usual. His dreams during the night had been rife with sexual fantasies of Venetia, derived from scalding memories of their first morning together at the inn.

His mind lingered on those searing images now. Her soft, creamy skin. Her rose-tipped breasts. The stiffness of her nipples as he’d suckled her. Her moans of ecstasy as she writhed beneath his claiming mouth…

Murmuring a low oath, Quinn reached beneath the covers and took hold of his aching rod, then brought himself to quick relief. Sated but not fulfilled, he rose to wash while letting his mind wander to the afternoon of their most recent picnic together. How enchanting Venetia had looked—more country beauty than elegant countess.

Images continued to assault him as he shaved. Her hair tousled, bonnet flung aside, her feet bare and showing her delicate ankles and shapely calves. Her amusement at his alleged fish-cleaning prowess, her lovely face expressive, her huge eyes glowing. His compulsion to devour those luscious lips, to plunder that sweet body.

A feeling that was becoming more and more prominent of late, Quinn reflected.

It was sheer torment to keep his hands to himself—and impossible to repress the excitement he felt around her, his keen awareness of her scent, the sound of her voice.

Purposely Quinn shifted his thoughts to her solemn confessions about her broken betrothal. Her admissions hinting at her lost dreams had twisted his heart. And the look crossing Venetia’s face—bittersweet, haunting, sad—had sent a surge of pure tenderness pulsing through him. He’d wanted to wrap his arms about her and heal her hurt.

Another prominent feeling that was increasing daily in urgency.

He was coming to care too much, Quinn knew, yet he couldn’t summon much regret. Despite his growing frustration at being forced to hide out here, he relished having Venetia all to himself. Even more remarkable, he wanted to be closer to her.

He also wanted to share more of himself with her. Normally he kept matters about his life very private from his lovers, but he’d willingly told Venetia about his drive to create some meaningful consequence to his parents’ tragic deaths. Not that his goal was a secret. Merely that he’d long ago learned to keep his relationships purely sexual and shallow.

He couldn’t maintain that same dispassion with Venetia now.

In truth, he’d meant his offer of a modern marriage. He wanted her to be free to choose her own fate. After insisting that she wed him, he owed her that much. Yet for the first time he wondered what a real marriage with Venetia could be like.

Wondered what it would take to make her want to remain in England with him.

Quinn shook his head in amazement. He couldn’t believe he was actually contemplating trying to build a lasting future with Venetia—or at a minimum, give their union a real chance to blossom.

Her issues would not easily be overcome. She mistrusted intimacy even more than he did. He’d almost laughed when Venetia had claimed to be liberated, knowing that she was still shackled by her painful past. He wanted to be the man to set her free, to make her forget her betrothed had ever existed, to ease her hurt and teach her how special she was.

Pondering the challenges he faced, Quinn grimaced wryly. Since the moment they’d met, he hadn’t measured up in her eyes and had more than once earned her disappointment. More important, unjustly or not, she felt warranted in questioning his honor and his ability to remain faithful.

He would have to prove he would never betray her, obviously, Quinn reflected. But how to convince her was much less obvious.

Love would be an excellent reason for him to remain faithful, but he wasn’t ready to entertain such a drastic step. He had his own problems with trust, admittedly. He was still unwilling to leave his own fate in a woman’s possibly callous hands, rendered impotent and helpless, his heart at the mercy of fickle providence.

Even if he couldn’t offer Venetia love, though, he’d vowed to give her a good life, to ensure her happiness.