How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

“I’m so sorry,” she said hoarsely. She realized then that tears wet her cheeks. “Oh, Richard…”

“I killed them,” he murmured, his voice echoing with a terrible softness.

Her breath strangled in her throat. “Who?”

“The men responsible for hurting her. I hunted them, one by one, and I ensured their demise…painfully. Men of our society were party to their pain, and I ruined their finances and reputations without remorse.”

There was a peculiar watchfulness in his gaze as if he anticipated her condemnation. He had taken lives of others, a right she believed no man had, but she could not stir censure in her heart toward him. “I hope they suffered.”

He prowled over to her and tucked a wisp of loose hair from her chignon behind her ear. “They did. Each man understood the crime they paid for.”

“How terrible of me to be glad…but I am.”

This close, the heat from his body was a comfort from the chill shivering through her heart. He smelled of tobacco, brandy, and soap. The combination was most appealing to her senses.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he lowered his head and brushed his lips tenderly against hers.

Her pulse quickened.

He lightly touched her cheek. “Play something for me,” he said roughly, and it was not a request.

A familiar ache settled low in her stomach. She should protest and depart his residence at once. She understood so little of seduction, and she could not comprehend the dangerous need glowing in his tawny eyes. Instead, she swiveled to the pianoforte and allowed her fingers to glide over the keys, light and graceful, creating a hauntingly lovely piece. She was not sure why she chose to play music filled with such volatile emotions when the situation called for a light and jaunty piece to defuse the tension. Evie sensed when he moved closer.

She could feel the warmth of his powerful body, raw with tension, mere inches from her as he bent over her.

Richard pressed his nose into the curve of her neck and inhaled. Her fingers trembled, briefly creating a discordant note.

He nuzzled her neck. “I want you.”

Breathing was nearly impossible as she waited for his touch. “I want you, too.”

His rough, strained, and masculine chuckle caressed her senses with wicked allure. “Ah, Evie…if you knew what I hungered to do with your body, you would run.”

He seemed to be on the brink of tipping them over into sheer madness. She was terrified of what to expect and yet remarkably breathless. “Tell me.”

The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fireplace and the soft pings of music from where her still trembling fingers hovered above the keys. “I dream of you,” she said on a whispering sigh.

His fingers splayed beneath the curve of her hips, urging her to stand and pulling her back onto the unmistakable thrust of his erection. Unexpected heat crawled through her veins, and anticipation skittered along her nerves and settled into the deep heart of her. He turned her to face him, and without releasing her gaze, he pushed his leg between her thighs and urged her to open. She did…and he lowered one of his hands and cupped her aching core through her gown. Evie clasped his shoulder for purchase as her knees weakened.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, a dark flush accentuating the harsh sensuality of his face.

There was no doubt in her mind where he wanted his mouth, and Evie took a moment to catch her breath.

He moved his fingers away, held her palm and curled her fingers around his hardness. Oh! “I want these lips…” His thumb raked against her bottom lip with sensual force. “I want them pleasuring me, to suck me with their soft, tight pull.”

She moaned, an unbearable need twisting through her body. “I want that, too.”

A flush covered his stunning cheekbones and regret curled in his eyes. “Ah, Evie…what I wouldn’t give to indulge just once. You’ve captured my dreams and thoughts so effortlessly.” Then after doing his customary friendly chuck under her chin, he stepped back, the loss of his heat creating a hollowness in her heart.

“Let’s get you to Rosette Park.”

Oh no, you don’t. She moved with him, not allowing his retreat. “I’ll send back a note to Adel. It is not wise to travel this late in the inclement weather.”

“Evie—”

Unable to deny the desire clawing through her, she tipped to her toes and pressed her lips to his. It was like coming home. Except…he was frozen. She lightly touched the strong lines of his jaw, and a shudder worked itself through his powerful body. Her heart refused to stop its wild thudding, as she waited in agony for him to say something…or do anything. He remained still, and instead of withdrawing, Evie parted her lips and licked the seam of his closed lips.

A rough, low, and hungry sound spilled from him. “You are my weakness,” he growled, almost as if he was angered, against her lips.