Never Trust a Rake

He was about to abuse Henrietta’s trust by robbing her of the most precious thing she had—and he didn’t mean her virginity. It was her very freedom he wanted to steal from her.

How could he forget the way she’d burst out of her hiding place, determined at all costs to stop Miss Waverley from forcing his hand? She’d stood up for him that night, although he was a stranger, because she hated injustice. She hadn’t been able to stand idly by and watch a wrong being perpetrated.

And this was how he was repaying her—by planning to rob her of her own freedom to choose whom she would marry.

Seducing her would be the worst kind of betrayal. She would feel as though he’d turned on her. It would shatter her trust in him, thereby destroying whatever small amount of goodwill she’d come to feel for him to date.

It would doom their marriage to misery. It would never be enough for him to just possess her: he needed her to love him.

He needed her to love him? He shook his head. No—it couldn’t be. He’d accustomed himself to the thought of her being in love with her husband, that was all. He’d inured himself to the prospect of humouring her when she displayed affection for him openly. He did not need love. God, he’d lived long enough without it. What difference could it possibly make now?

All the difference in the world.

And she could never love a man who could stoop to such tactics to get what he wanted.

Had he really thought he could despoil her and then expect her to forgive him?

Or that he would ever have been able to forgive himself?

Even if he ever managed to convince her that he’d acted out of desperation, that he’d felt physically sick when she’d announced her intention to end their relationship, that he’d panicked and thought he would do anything, whatever it took, to keep her, this was a line no decent man ever had any excuse for crossing.

He couldn’t hurt her like this.

For the first time in his life, Lord Deben had discovered there was something more important to him than getting his own way.

It was Henrietta’s happiness.

He could not be the man who betrayed her. Hurt her. Abused her trust.

Dammit, but she was far too trusting. Why wasn’t that aunt of hers taking better care of her? She ought to be protecting her from bastards like him, not letting her wander off on to moonlit terraces and into darkened rooms where God knew what could happen to her.

With a tortured groan, he scooped her up and settled her on his lap. He pulled her head into his chest so that he wouldn’t have to bear that trusting look for one more second.

And she, being what she was, promptly heaped coals of fire on his head by snuggling against him, trusting as a child, and looping her arms round his waist.

‘Was that...was that...what was that?’

‘That, my dear,’ he said ‘was your first orgasm.’

‘I...I was only expecting a kiss. I suppose...you did so much more because you wanted to punish me...’

‘Did it feel like a punishment?’ He was the one who should be punished. He could not believe he had almost stooped to such measures, simply to get his own way.

‘At times,’ she admitted.

‘You enjoyed it, though.’ Whatever else he might be, he reflected savagely, he was a consummate lover.

‘Yes. Though I suppose...’ she began tentatively. Unfortunately, as she went to lift her head, the movement brought the soft curve of her hip up against the full aching urgency of his erection.

‘Don’t do that,’ he said sharply, setting his hands to her waist and lifting her off his lap. He was only restraining himself from doing what would make her hate him by the thinnest of threads.

‘And don’t enquire into my motives. I am not proud of myself,’ he said grimly. It was pathetic to attempt to excuse what he’d almost done by claiming he was desperate. He should not have allowed himself to become desperate. Not long since, he’d sworn no woman would bring him to his knees, but his desire to possess Henrietta was so strong that it had almost driven him to an unconscionable act. He’d never wanted anything, or anyone, as badly as he wanted her.

Except, it appeared, her respect. He could easier live without her in his life, than do anything that would make her despise him.