What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

Amusement lit Pen’s annoyance. “At thirteen, the prince is certainly young. Most people consider him hopelessly bookish. His mother fears difficulties in securing an heir, unless she can awaken his interest in the fair sex.”

“What about Goya? Word is that he painted you wearing what only the most intimate associate would wear.” Which meant wearing nothing at all. The idea of another man feasting his eyes—and other things—on Pen’s glorious nakedness made him livid. He knew he was a primitive, but despite everything, he looked at this woman and his heart beat mine, mine, mine.

Her cheeks went pink. “He’s a great artist.”

Cam started to feel like a schoolmaster quizzing a troublesome pupil. “So that rumor is true?”

“He swore that he’ll never show the painting to another living soul. I believe him.”

“And Sir Andrew Melton?”

Pen laughed dismissively. “Now there’s a fellow whose mother has definitely given up hopes of awakening his interest in the fair sex.” Umbrage sharpened her voice. “My refusal on the yacht must have stung, given you believed that every man in Europe has shared my bed. And a few in Asia too.”

He struggled not to squirm under her taunts. “Not so many. Definitely one or two.”

“You kept careful note of my supposed paramours.”

Another jibe that hit home. “Our childhood connection spurred my interest.”

He was mortified to admit how agonizingly jealous he’d been of Pen’s lovers. Especially when she showed no interest in Camden Rothermere.

Her lips tightened. “If I’m so notorious, nobody would think you a cad if you didn’t marry me. I only gave you what I’d given a hundred men.”

“There have been plenty of wanton duchesses.”

When she caught the bitterness in his voice, her expression softened. “Cam, not every woman is like your mother.”

“You’re not.”

The thaw ended abruptly. “You thought I was.”

“No, never,” he said emphatically. “My mother’s every act was a betrayal. Of her husband. Of her rank. Of her family.”

“I had no idea that people thought me such a trollop. You sacrificed yourself to this marriage to save my good name. Now I discover that I have no good name to save.”

As her indignation faded, Pen looked tired and wretched. He should let her go back to bed—without him—but he knew how quickly she’d rebuild her defenses. He needed to get to the truth now.

“Don’t forget that I was preserving my good name too. A man who seduces a girl he’s known from childhood then abandons her to insult is beyond the pale.”

Her smile held no amusement. “Even if the childhood friend goes to the dogs?”

“You’re still a Thorne.”

“And now I’m a Rothermere.” Clearly a fact that gave her no pleasure.

Why should it? She’d exchanged independence for life with a man who had treated her like a doxy. Remorse twisted his guts anew. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Hell, Pen, you’re twenty-eight years old. For nine years, you’ve run wild with a louche crowd under your aunt’s inadequate supervision. Not to mention that any man would want you. What in Hades was I meant to think?”

Bleak humor flickered in her black eyes. “Don’t sound so peevish, Cam. Most men would be delighted to discover that their bride was a virgin.”

Was he blushing? “Perhaps so, but not in the circumstances that I did.”

“Poor boy,” she said sarcastically.

“You have every right to anger. There’s no excuse for my behavior. I should crawl on my knees to you and beg forgiveness.” Cam gestured with his free hand. “But we’re together for life and we need to reach some understanding.”

Her expression was cynical. “So you can touch me again.”

Devil take his blundering, she spok