How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

Surely he did not want to speak of tender sentiments between them? “No, there is no need.”

He contemplated her with an enigmatic half smile. “What are you afraid of?”

Evie stiffened under his probing regard. “I assure you I am not anxious.”

“Honesty between us has always been the foundation of our friendship.”

Dratted man. “I could not bear to hear you admit you require nothing more than friendship between us, ever,” she admitted softly.

He faltered into complete stillness, and she wanted to die from mortification.

Then something shifted in his eyes, raw and provocative. Was it desire? Her breath trembled on her lips, an unknown sensation erupted in her stomach and overwhelming weakness quivered through her. Oh! She dropped her hand from his mouth as if she had been burned. “Richard?”

His expression was decidedly sensual. “I won’t pounce, despite the temptation.”

She was suddenly breathless and utterly dispossessed of all rational thought. “You’ve thought of pouncing on me?” Though she hardly understood what he meant, the notion seemed frightfully exhilarating.

“From the first time I met you,” he said, rueful amusement twisting his lips. “You were sixteen, and I was a cad for having thoughts of kissing you senseless.”

Evie was disconcerted by that unexpected admission and the ease with which he’d made it. They’d always been honest with each other, but this…dear Lord, her heart was a beating mess.

“I…” Unable to form a coherent thought, Evie chuckled nervously. Why was he so frank now? “I…I truly believe you have rendered me speechless.”

His gaze dropped to her lips, and it was with evident reluctance he shifted his regard. She moved closer to him, irresistibly drawn by the sensuality etched on his face. How had she not known he was similarly attracted to her? She’d always thought the kiss they had shared an aberration, a wonderful comfort she had provided when he had been in such need. An inexplicable desire to touch him welled within her, and Evie stood on tiptoes, then brought her hands to his jaw, cupping his cheeks. “How I’ve missed you…”

He stroked his thumb back and forth along her cheek. “You’ve always tempted me to be foolish, Evie, and once again you are doing so.”

Always? She was filled with delight.

Richard lowered his hand but remained scandalously close so the hem of her ball gown spread over his shoes. She felt tied to him by an invisible thread, unable to care at this moment about duty to her mother’s expectations and propriety. “Why have you not acted upon your feelings?”

He frowned and the shadows of his face became saturnine as his mouth curled almost in derision. “I would ruin you, Evie.” One long finger reached toward her and touched tenderly behind her ear, the finger caressed with a featherlike touch, moving down her neck and across her collarbone.

“So ruin me,” she breathed, desperate to step free of the cage she lived within, if only for a few precious stolen moments. It was also hard to resist someone so delightfully wicked and appealing.

His eyes flamed bright gold with something akin to predatory anticipation. His fingers paused at the scooped neckline of her ball gown and followed the single line of lace down to where it ended in a point, revealing the barest glimpse of the shadow between her breasts. Evie tried to stay still, to appear unaffected, but as his finger lingered between her breasts, a twisting sensation spiraled through her stomach. Her breasts felt peculiar, suddenly heavy and full, her nipples tautening into almost painful sensitivity. “Richard…”

The fierce intensity with which his brilliant golden eyes raked her frame had dual needs of wariness and yearning throbbing through her. His supercilious mien had vanished and within his eyes was something far warmer—longing, admiration, perhaps even need. Time became frozen, her breathing suspended as anticipation of something, anything, scythed through her veins, but then she found a breath and time moved on.

His finger moved to one of her steepling nipples, circling the silk puckered by her arousal, the pressure gentle. Her knees wobbled, and she rested her forehead on his shoulder, and the familiar scent of him filled her with pain. A shocking surge of heat quivered through her. Nothing had ever felt as needed to her as Richard’s touch. Hunger clawed through her with greedy force and speared down to her most intimate secret place. She ached. Shaken by a response that she couldn’t control, Evie shivered.

What are we doing?

As if she had spoken aloud, he lowered his hand.

“I ache to take everything you are so naively offering and damn the consequences. But I won’t be responsible for ruining you, Evie. I’ll always be a gentleman, despite the powerful need to succumb to your delightful charms.”

He stood up straight, before sweeping her a graceful bow and depositing a terse kiss upon her gloved fingers. Then he turned and walked out of the conservatory, leaving her alone and bereft.

Chapter Four

The dark corners and alleyways of London’s East End held many secrets and dangers, but Richard strolled through the alleys confident in his skills to keep the most undesirable elements at bay if they should attack. He had become more comfortable amongst the wicked and the depraved than he felt with his own society. A notion that had been first bandied about by all the scandal sheets, but one he had long embraced. These days he hardly spared a thought for those of his society, though perhaps he would make an exception for Evie.

“Evie…” His whisper of her name carried on the cold night air. “With so little effort you tempt my restraint.”

He was losing the battle he had been fighting for six long years. The desire he felt for her was becoming stronger, continuously slicing at his self-control. The hunger for her never seemed to sleep, always waiting for a crack in his control for him to devour and take everything she so innocently offered. Tonight, she’d looked so pure and untouchable that the wickedness in him had roared to the surface, desperate to corrupt her. He’d wanted to twine his fingers in her perfect golden tresses, urge her to her knees, and demand she wrap those succulent lips around his cock and suck him to completion, if only to see the shocked expression on her face for his vulgarity. For a moment, he thought she might even agree to oblige him. She had high, luscious breasts, sensual rounded hips, and long legs that would deliciously wrap around his back and hold him deep inside her as he took them on the ride he had been longing for.

So ruin me…