A Most Unladylike Proposition - Chapter 11

Innocence had never appealed to James. He was a man who had lived his life by society’s rules, which was to say he was a gentleman in the public eye, always. So, he had never ventured into a lady’s private domain, even when he’d known he’d be welcomed. Instead, he had sought companionship outside his social circles, and while he liked to think that the women in question had had no complaints, he certainly had not either. Because those women he had been with had been experienced and discreet; they knew what they wanted and were not afraid to demand it from him. And James had enjoyed his time with each of them.

But Lady Diana Hughes, with her shy smile and sweet disposition, was erotic in an entirely unprecedented way. James felt responsible for her pleasure. And that did not scare him. If anything, it made him want to give her the fairy tale that any young girl might imagine for herself. He wanted to make her realize how much power she wielded, so that one day she could take what she wanted from him as his wife. And because she wanted her last night of freedom, he would give her that too. He would give her a taste of the rebellion she so desperately needed, and tomorrow…tomorrow he would face the consequences of his deceit.

‘How did you imagine this—your first kiss?’ he asked. ‘When you dreamed of it as a girl, how did you imagine it?’

She shook her head, denying him the knowledge he wanted. ‘You’ll find it silly.’

‘No. I won’t. Do you think that men don’t dream of what it is to find someone who makes their hands shake with need?’ When she did not reply, only looked at him with huge eyes, he raised her hand to his face and placed her open palm against his masked cheek, ‘Just because we men are not afforded the opportunity to be romantic does not mean that we lack it entirely.’ He turned his face and pressed a kiss to her palm.

‘I…’ She sighed. But she did not remove her hand. Instead, she brushed her knuckles over the ridge where his mask ended and his skin began. The touch was like nothing James had ever experienced. It was gentle and affectionate, with no seductive knowledge or intent. So why, he wondered, did it spread fire through him? ‘Well, I suppose I never really thought of it specifically. But I always imagined being held closely.’

James tried to stifle his groan, but it escaped from his throat in a low sound of pleasure. ‘May I?’ he asked, and when she nodded, instead of wrapping her in his arms, he leaned down and lifted her off her feet.

She gasped and reached out one hand to steady herself on his chest. James felt her gentle touch as he might a branding iron—searing, painful, permanent. He carried her to the bench and sat down. He gently settled her weight on his thighs, and then shrugging out of his evening jacket, draped it over her shoulders. ‘How am I doing?’ he asked.

She dropped her head against his chest, replied, ‘Rather too well, I think.’

‘Too well?’

‘I keep thinking about him,’ she said. ‘And I hate that he can steal even this from me—and all before I’ve met him! And even though I am angry, I feel guilty for…this.’ She tapped his chest. ‘I feel guilty for being happy right now, for taking something I want. Because I’m promised to someone else.’

‘I think your earl would understand,’ James replied cautiously.

‘I don’t think he would. According to my mother, the Earl of Heather is known for being quite perfect.’

James couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled from his chest. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. Leaning forward, he brought his lips to her ear and whispered, ‘Nobody is perfect.’

‘He is as close as one comes, and even though I don’t know him, I find that I am terrified of disappointing him.’

‘You won’t.’ Leaning closer, he inhaled her perfume, filling his lungs with her scent.

‘You can’t possibly know that.’

‘I assure you—I do.’

‘How?’ she asked. ‘Tell me how you can possibly know that?’

‘Why don’t I show you instead?’ James asked, and when she nodded, he touched his lips to hers.

Finally.