His mouth curled. “I would never jest about a subject so serious as matrimony. I must wed eventually, and you will do far better than anyone else.”
Shocked speechless, Roslyn stared at him, a dozen emotions warring inside her. The chief was disbelief, but that soon gave way to anger.
Arden must have seen her temper flare, for he grimaced. “I phrased my proposal rather boorishly. Let me try again. I would be honored for the privilege of making you my duchess, Miss Loring.”
She shook her head wildly. “You wouldn’t be honored in the least. And neither would I.”
“Don’t dismiss the idea out of hand-”
“Of course I will dismiss it! I told you I would never marry without love, and you don’t even believe in it.”
“I want the chance to change your mind. Love is vastly overrated, and in time, I can make you see it.”
The nerve of him, Roslyn thought furiously. Did he honestly believe she would give up her dreams just because a nobleman of his consequence deigned to propose to her?
“I have heard quite enough, your grace.”
She turned away, shaking, and made to enter the house, but Arden forestalled her by grasping her arm. When he spun her to face him, the air seemed to crackle all around them. Roslyn was suddenly very aware of the thrum of excitement pounding deep in her stomach.
She swallowed hard. “You have obviously taken leave of your senses.”
“Perhaps I have,” he muttered in a rough under voice.
“Well, I still have all of my faculties. Even if you have convinced yourself for some mad reason that you want me as your duchess, why the devil would I ever want to marry you?”
“Because of this…”
His mouth came down hard to take possession of hers. Roslyn tried to get away, but his hand held her head still while his mouth slowly forced hers open, his tongue stabbing deep in a sensual assault tha
t was dominating, possessive. The unexpectedness of it stole her breath and sent a surge of heat shuddering through her entire body.
Roslyn whimpered. She couldn’t resist the strong arms that crushed her to him. He ravished her mouth, ripped her senses from her.
Her hands crept up to wrap around his neck. The moment she surrendered, his kiss changed…softened, deepened, flooding her with longing.
Feeling her willpower slipping away, Roslyn made one last frantic effort to break the spell he was weaving around her. She pushed against his shoulder and tore her mouth away.
“Your grace! Drew…we have to stop this!”
“Not yet,” he rasped. “I mean to show you one last lesson.”
“What lesson?” Her voice was shaky and as hoarse as his.
“Pleasure,” he murmured. “The kind of bliss you can find with a considerate lover.”
Her stomach clenched with chagrin. “We cannot be lovers-I could never allow it. It would be utterly disgraceful.”
“I know. But I’ll stop short of claiming your innocence. Hush now,” he urged when she would have protested.
He resumed his slow-burning kiss, which had the same effect as before: Her body melted back against his forearm while her mouth opened willingly under his. Roslyn moaned softly. His sensuality was deep and intoxicating and roused a now familiar ache low in the pit of her belly.
She could feel the heat and hunger in him, as well. His arousal was blatant against her abdomen. She shivered with raw desire.
Then one of his hands glided downward and slipped between their bodies. Roslyn stiffened, but his lips made her forget her dismay. A moment later his hand moved between her legs, seeking and caressing.
She tensed, throbbing deep inside, and then gasped when he cupped her woman’s mound through the fabric of her gown and chemise. But he went on massaging lightly, stroking, his expert, coaxing touch setting her nerves on fire. When she instinctively pressed closer, rocking her sex against his hand, his kisses shifted from her mouth and trailed along her jaw to her ear.
His breath was a little ragged when he asked, “Can you claim you don’t want me touching you?”