How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

His jaw clenched. He moved to the window facing the small back gardens and leaned his elbow on the windowsill.

“My mind has been stretched in a thousand directions. I wonder…where is she? Does she live?”

Evie strolled to stand beside him and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. “You will find her, Richard, and you shall love her,” she said, going to the heart of what must be his fear.

He stared down at her for a long, timeless moment. There were such doubts etched in his beautiful golden eyes that her heart lurched.

“And if I do not find her, and she is left to suffer even more than she must be suffering now?”

“It is not in your nature to relent. You are now the Marquess of Westfall. There are more resources available to you. Use them and find your daughter.”

“I’ll not stop searching until I do.”

Needing to comfort him, she hugged him. He stiffened, then his hands came around her waist like bands of steel, pulling her into the hard, masculine heat of his body. She was surrounded by his clean male scent, and it felt so right to be held in his arms. It was all utterly improper and wonderful.

He shuddered, and it was then she felt the terrible tension in his touch. “I’ll make a terrible father…if we ever meet.”

“You are steadfast and courageous, you are honorable despite your roguish reputation. I know you must worry, but I believe with my heart you will find her,” she reassured him. “And you will spoil her rotten and love her with all your heart. Do you know her name?”

“Emily,” he said gruffly.

“A lovely name. I will light a candle and pray every night until she is located.”

“Thank you.” His chin rested more firmly atop her head. “Her mother believes I should leave her wherever she is.”

“A selfish suggestion that bears no contemplation.”

“She abandoned her at birth, the damnable bitch.”

His vulgar tongue had a blush climbing Evie’s cheeks. It was at moments like these he shocked her sense of propriety, and one of the reasons she enjoyed his friendship. Richard did not behave like she was the proper and perfect daughter of an earl, to be spoken to only with mincing words, and treated as if she were a delicate flower without an intelligent thought in her mind. Already she had a reputation of being a good, biddable daughter who had perfected the ton’s rules of etiquette and politeness. Her current suitor believed she would be a well-behaved and tractable wife, and was arrogant enough to say so to the polite world. Gentle rebellion stirred in her heart, and Evie wanted to break free from the mold her parents expected her to be shaped in.

“I quite agree, a damnable bitch,” she drawled with a measure of satisfaction.

Richard laughed lightly. “It makes my heart glad to see such perfect lips being vulgar.”

“How can I help you with your search?”

“You cannot. I daresay you will not even be allowed to meet her when I’ve located her.”

Pain pinched her heart. “Nothing would keep me away.”

He made a rough skeptical sound. “The world will revile her, but I will make it better for her.”

“I promise you, I will love her as you do.”

His hands tightened even more, and she lifted her forehead from where it rested on his shoulders to meet his gaze. He was staring at her in the most unbelievably disturbing way.

“Thank you, Evie,” he said gruffly. “You have a surprising knack for making me feel at ease.”

With a sense of wary anticipation, she brought her hands to his jaw. His breath visibly hitched and a fine tremor worked through his body. The intense sensuality in his gaze stole her breath, and an unfamiliar but intriguing sensation fluttered low in her abdomen.

Kiss me, she silently implored. Just once, and then perhaps forever.

His head dipped, and Evie sighed as he settled his mouth firmly over hers, taking gentle possession. Dear heavens. Nothing had ever felt so perfect…so sublimely right. She gasped, and he took advantage, slipping his tongue between her lips. The shock of such an intimate invasion disappeared as heat pooled in her veins and thrummed in her blood. Evie had been utterly mistaken in the notion she had been kissed before. Richard’s mouth was incredibly talented, his taste evocative. With a soft moan, she sank farther into his lean but deliciously hard frame and wrapped her hands around his neck. Her fingers combed through his hair as his mouth took hers with tender desperation.

His lips traveled to her throat, licking, kissing, and nibbling.

Inexplicable heat speared down to the valley between her thighs, and she gasped.