Ravished by the Rake (Danger and Desire 1)

He rolled, pinned her under him and she ignored the protests from battered, bruised muscles and wriggled until her hips cradled him and the wonderful hot threatening promise of his erection pressed intimately against her.

Alistair took his weight on his elbows, which rocked his hips tighter into hers, and she gasped at the pleasure of it. ‘You are so lovely,’ he murmured. ‘You look like a mermaid, washed up at my feet.’

She almost protested. She was sticky with salt, her hair a tangled, still-damp, mess. She knew how she looked every day, scrubbed from the bath with no artifice of hairdressing or jewellery or the subtle use of cosmetics. The lack of balance in her face, her long nose, her wide mouth—he would see all that with complete clarity. But he appeared sincere; he appeared to see her, at this moment, as lovely and she could not protest, not when the man she loved was about to make her his.

‘What is it?’ She must have gasped. ‘Did I hurt you? Am I too heavy?’

‘No. No.’ Dita stared up at the face above her, the man she had known virtually all her life. Her friend, the man she had thought she simply lusted after. I love him? Oh my God, I love him. And he would make love to her now and this time it would be perfect, because it was Alistair. He would heal that long-ago nightmare.

He smiled, that wicked smile that had drawn her after him for all those years of her childhood, driving away the other, so-familiar, expression from his boyhood, that of concern for her. He’s saved me from every scrape I have got myself into—except Stephen. And when he led me into trouble, he got me out of that to, except that once. He could have ravished me on the ship, but he didn’t …

Alistair began to kiss her throat, one hand sliding between their bodies, intent, she knew, on weaving sensual delight that would make her mindless, blissful, until she was his. He is practiced, he won’t hurt me, she thought as the first shiver of apprehension mixed with the pleasure. It had been a long time.

He will realise I am not a virgin, but then, he thinks that I slept with Stephen. Thank goodness she had fought Stephen off, thank goodness the man she loved had been the only one. She stiffened at the memory of Stephen’s groping hands

.

‘Dita? Don’t worry, I won’t risk a child.’

Alistair’s lips closed around her right nipple and she gasped as he sucked, her mind wiped blank for one exquisite moment. Then she fought through the sensation. It was important, because she loved him, that he did not believe that she had given herself to Stephen

‘I need to tell you something.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, now, Alistair. You know that I am not a virgin.’

He lifted his head from her breast, intense, serious, his eyes dark and heavy with arousal. ‘I know. The scandal—that character you eloped with.’

‘Stephen Doyle. I never slept with him.’

Alistair sat up and she tried to see his expression in the gloom.

‘Then why the hell didn’t you say so and put a stop to all the gossip?’

‘I suppose because I was too proud to explain that after an hour alone in the chaise I realised that I had been completely deceived in him. I spent two nights fending him off with the cutlery, but no one but my family would have believed me and I would have lost my dignity along with my reputation.’

‘Dignity? But if you were still a virgin—’ She saw the memory of her words come back to him. ‘Who was it, then?’

‘You.’ She had not meant to blurt it out, but the word simply escaped.

‘What? Don’t be ridiculous, Dita. When, for heaven’s sake? I would have remembered.’

‘Not if you were drunk and angry and very upset about something else,’ she said and watched his face change as he realised when she must mean.

‘Are you saying that the night before I left home I took your virginity? And I don’t remember it? Don’t be ridiculous, Dita. You were a child—I wouldn’t have done such a thing.’ He sounded furious. Dita watched as he flung himself off the crude bed and went to light the lantern, her stomach a tight knot of hurt misery.

‘I was sixteen,’ she said flatly. ‘I found you in the rose garden in the base of the ruined tower. I had never seen you like that—drunk and upset and so angry. You were almost incoherent and I couldn’t make any sense of what you were saying. I didn’t want any of the servants to see you like that, so I helped you inside and up the back stairs to your room.

‘And then I pushed you inside and you turned around and—Alistair, you looked so unhappy, I kissed you. I just meant to comfort you, like I would if you had fallen off your horse or something. But I missed your cheek and found your mouth and then something happened. It didn’t feel like comforting a friend any more. You were not the same. I was not the same. I didn’t understand, but you seemed to and you pulled me inside and closed the door.’

‘And ravished you? Is that what you are saying?’ He stood there, naked, fists clenched, his body very visibly losing all interest in what they had been doing a minute before.

‘No, of course not. I wanted it, too. I didn’t really understand, but I wanted you.’ She thought back to the excitement and the apprehension and the sheer delight of his caresses. There had been pain, but there had been the joy of being in his arms and realising that she was a woman and she loved him and he must love her, too. ‘I don’t think you knew who I was, not at first. Afterwards you just stared at me and said … something. So I left.’

‘What did I say?’

Dita bit her lip. The words had haunted her for years; now she had to repeat them to the man who had used them on her like weapons. ‘You said, “Of all the bloody stupid things to do. You. I must be mad. Get out.” There were other things, I don’t recall very well—I had my hands over my ears by then. You were so angry with me and the next day you had gone.’