To All the Rakes I've Loved Before (A Honeycote Novella) (11 page)

Well,
that
was definitely for the best.

Amelia’s mind reeled. Stephen had told his mother he planned to marry her? If this was all some ploy to get her to fall into bed with him, it was rather elaborate—even for a rake like him. But he’d still lied about the gambling, and that lie made her question everything.

“I don’t want to officially propose to you until I have the chance to ask your mother’s permission. When will she be home?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. But that is beside the point. Even if I
were
interested in marriage—which I’m not at all sure about—what makes you think you’re ready to give up your old life?”

“I don’t think of it as giving up anything. I’d be gaining a beautiful wife and a lover and, eventually, if we’re so blessed, a family.”

Tears sprang up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to overflow. Thank goodness Cicely was almost there. “I think you’re more entrenched in your world than you realize.”

His blue eyes turned stormy and troubled. “I’ve already paid off my debt, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s good to hear. I couldn’t bear the thought of more beatings—and having all my nursing go to waste. How did you manage to come up with the money?”

“I didn’t. I paid it off with my curricle and two best horses. Walking out of that gaming hell last night was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Wait. “So you admit you were there last night?”

He nodded. “Meeting with the owner, Savage. He released me from my debt in exchange for the curricle. No more surprise attacks from henchmen.”

This changed everything. He
hadn’t
been lying. And shame on her for assuming the worst about him.

“Stephen, I don’t have much time.” Cicely was only a few yards away. “Can you meet me later tonight? I’ll unlock the gate to our garden and look for you at the rear entrance at midnight.”

He looked at her a little strangely, but said, “If I had to scale a dozen fences and fight off two dozen guard dogs to see you, I would.”

“You know very well we don’t have a dog, and I said I’d unlock the gate.”

Cicely, bless her heart, walked right up to Amelia and extended her hand. “Come, Miss Wimple,” she said firmly. “It’s time for us to go.”

Stephen stood, watching intently as they walked away.

When they were several paces down the path, Cicely said, “I almost feel sorry for Lord Brookes. He’s clearly smitten. Did you see the look on his face?”

Amelia had. His eyes had held the promise of a night of passion.

She couldn’t wait to hold him to that promise.

Chapter 14

Miss W. is teetering on the brink of ruin.

Perhaps she should at least
feign
a bit of regret or angst.

—from the make-believe gossip papers of Miss Amelia Wimple

The gate was unlocked, as Amelia had promised.

There was just enough moonlight for Stephen to make out the narrow stone path leading to the house. He’d dressed in dark clothes and pulled the brim of his hat low over his face, because if anyone spotted him creeping up to the house at midnight it would look like… well, it would look exactly like what it
was
—a midnight assignation.

He narrowly missed tripping over a bench and he might have trampled a flower or two, but his first attempt at sneaking
into
a lady’s residence seemed to be going relatively well.

Then the back door swung open.

He froze, held his breath.

Amelia emerged, ethereal in a white robe, her hair twined in a loose braid hanging over her shoulder. The sight of her made his chest squeeze. “Come,” she said, waving him in.

He joined her in two strides, then closed the door behind them. Inside, it was even darker. Amelia put a finger to his lips, and he applauded himself for resisting the very strong urge to take that succulent finger into his mouth. In fact, now that he was alone with her, in the dark, he was resisting all sorts of urges.

She took his hand and tugged, leading him down a passage. The air was thick with the homey smell of cooked onions and potatoes, hinting that the kitchen was nearby. Next, they navigated their way up three staircases and down the corridor toward her bedchamber.

They slipped inside and he locked the door.

“Amelia.” He wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her till she didn’t know her name.

“I’ve missed you.”

She walked farther into the room and leaned her back against the bedpost. “But you saw me only a few hours ago.”

He closed the distance between them, pulling her hips toward his. “But you were pushing me away. I thought I was losing you. Tell me I’m not.”

She laid a cool palm on his cheek. “You’re not.”

“So, my groveling worked?”

“What?” An adorable crease appeared between her eyes.

“You liked my note?”

“I like everything about you—your zest for life, your compassion, and your devotion to your family. I love the way you make me laugh and the way you make me feel. You make me want to give up my gossip rags and rejoin the world.”

He slid the ribbon off the end of her braid and raked his fingers through her silky curls. “There’s nothing wrong with gossip rags. But I’d rather be in them than reading them.”

“I think I would too.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re ready to rejoin the world—preferably, with me at your side—but I hope you’re not in a hurry.” He nuzzled her neck and nipped at her shoulder as he undid the tie at the front of her robe. “Because I’ve grown fond of your room.”

She slid the robe off her shoulders and let it pool around her feet. “It has much to recommend it. There’s a cozy fire, plenty of sherry, and this.” She patted the bed and climbed onto the mattress. “More comfortable than the floor.”

He snorted. “I have no complaints about the floor.”

“Neither do I. I just thought that tonight you should… take off your boots.”

“Jesus, Amelia.” He removed his boots in record time and joined her on the bed. But before anyone shed any more articles of clothing and while he still had a brain in his head, he needed to ask her something. He sat beside her and laced his fingers through hers. “I know I shouldn’t have read your journal.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“But now that I did, I need to know about that last entry. Am I really just a diversion to you? Because I want this”—he squeezed her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it—“to mean something. It does to me.”

“Oh, it does to me too. I only wrote that because I was trying to protect myself.”

“From what? You should know I’m no threat.”

“You misunderstand. I was trying to convince myself that I could be happy sharing just a night with you. Selfishly, I want more. Much more.”

“That’s good,” he growled. “Because I want to spend every night for the rest of my life with you. Starting with tonight.”

“I want that too, but”—hesitation clouded her face, and he gave her an encouraging nod—“but how can you be so sure? You’ve been with women before… and each time you’ve moved on. What’s different this time?”

“It’s simple. I love you.”

She swallowed. “You do?”

“How could I not? You’re compassionate and funny and you challenge me to be more than some caricature of a gambling, drinking, whoring rake. I wasn’t even enjoying myself, only doing what people seemed to expect of me. I was tired of acting the part… and you saw through it.”

“It wasn’t very hard,” she said, smiling. Boldly, she shifted herself onto his lap, straddling him. His heart pounded. “I love you, Stephen. I didn’t think there was a man alive who could change my mind about marriage. But you can be very persuasive.”

“Darling, you don’t know the half of it.”

“I’m counting on you to show me.”

“It will be my pleasure.” He slid a hand up her thigh, and she quivered in response. “I want to see you—all of you.”

She smiled shyly, then shattered the effect by lifting the hem of her gown up and over her head. She sat facing him, gloriously naked.

The lamp beside her bed cast shadows over her mouthwatering body—the swell of her breasts, the indent at her waist, and the curve of her sweet bottom. She rested her hands on his shoulders, letting him drink in the sight of her. The fire in her eyes and the proud angle of her chin; her wild curls and serene smile—so perfectly Amelia.

She slid off him and reclined on her side, stretching long, lithe legs across the bed. “I want to see all of you too.”

He shed his jacked and ripped off his shirt so fast that she giggled. But as he took off his breeches and drawers, her gaze turned heavy-lidded and sultry.

Stephen’s blood thrummed in anticipation. He wanted to pull her beneath him and make her his. Forever. But he had to make this good for her.

It wasn’t going to be easy.

He sprawled out next to her, hauled her close, and kissed her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and caressed her breasts, loving the warm weight of them and the feel of her hard nipples poking his palms.

She slid a long, smooth leg between his and wriggled against him like a seductress.

“You are very good at this already.” His voice was ragged, like he’d run up four flights of stairs. “God help me when you have a bit more experience.”

She chuckled and kissed a path across his chest before licking one flat nipple and then the other. He had to stop her before he lost all control of the situation.

“I want you to lie back,” he said, “and put your arms above your head.”

She settled her head against the silk-encased pillow and crossed her wrists above her head. “Like this?”

“Perfect.” He stroked her hair away from her face and kissed the soft skin below her ear. “Now just relax. Close your eyes, if you like. Feel.”

He drew a succulent nipple into his mouth and stroked her bottom, hips, and thighs. She moaned softly, but still he kept his touch light, drifting closer to her sex, and then away. His fingers skimmed the tops of her thighs and then eased her legs apart. When she started to bring her knees together, he kissed her until she was loose and relaxed—and open to him.

He drew lazy circles on her belly and slowly, slowly slid his hand down to caress the thatch of curls covering her mound. She gasped and sank her fingers into the pillow above her head.

“I want you to remember this night, always,” he said. “I want to make you feel… amazing.”

“I’m ready,” she said with a grin.

And she was. He touched the slick folds at her entrance and found her swollen and wet. As he let his fingers explore, he studied her face and her body. She arched her back when he found her sweet spot, and he set up a rhythm, bringing her closer and closer to release.

Each time she whimpered with pleasure, his own desire grew.

“I’m going to taste you again,” he said. “Like before.”

“No,” she pleaded. “I don’t… want you to… stop.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when she came. “Stephen!” she cried, panting as she bucked against his hand.

When her body was limp and sated, he rolled her toward him and cupped her bottom, pulling her hips toward his.

“I love the way you make me feel,” she said.

“And how is that?”

“Free. Powerful. Adored.”

He brushed a thumb across her lips. “You
are
all those things—and you always will be. Whether you’re married or single is irrelevant.”

She arched a brow. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“Never,” he growled.

“Good.” She rolled on top of him, her brunette waves tickling his chest. “Because marriage to you is sounding better by the minute. I think I need another taste of what it will be like.”

Chapter 15

Lord B. is perilously close to losing his status as London’s premiere rake…

—from the make-believe gossip papers of Miss Amelia Wimple

Amelia was overwhelmed by foreign sensations. She was sitting on top of a naked man, for goodness’ sake. And she liked it.

She could feel his sex, hard and large behind her bottom, and while the thought of joining with him was daunting, she trusted Stephen.

She leaned over him and let the sensitive tips of her breasts graze the hard wall of his chest. Heat filled her belly, and a soft, insistent pulsing began in her loins.

He rolled her onto her back and raised himself up on his arms over her. His broad shoulders and sculpted torso filled her vision, making her mouth go dry. He looked so powerful, so intense—and yet, there was a tenderness in his blue eyes that touched her soul.

“I want you, Amelia. Not just here and now, but always. I want a lifetime of nights like this, and a lifetime of days—with you. I love you.”