Too Hot For A Rake. Pearl Wolf

I disgust him, he said. I’m such a failure.”

      “No, you’re not. What you did that night wasn’t so horrible. Most men would have been flattered by your attentions. I would have been flattered if you had meant them for me.” He lifted her chin. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re very desirable.”

      “Am I? Then prove you mean it, my lord. Kiss me.” She leaned toward him, closed her eyes and parted her lips.

      But he stopped her. “Open your eyes, my dear. I gave my word to your brother-in-law that I would never take advantage of your innocence. That takes precedence, you see. Especially now.”

      Helena’s eyes flew open at the sudden vision of the marquis without his clothing. “Why especially now?”

      “I’ve become Marquis of Waverley. I have a duty to repair my reputation.”

      She turned her face away to hide her flaming cheeks. He was right, of course, yet she couldn’t help feeling rejected once more. What was wrong with her? Had she no appeal at all?

      “You’re blushing again, ma’am. Why?”

      “I feel like an ugly old crone. Undesirable and unwanted.”

      Waverley laughed. “I suppose I shall be forced to kiss you just to prove you wrong, but I shan’t do so without your permission.” He touched her cheek, turned her face toward him, then raised her chin until they were eye to eye. He leaned closer until his mouth was inches from hers.

      Helena ran her tongue over her dry lips and closed her eyes in anticipation. Nothing happened again. “Get on with it, if you don’t mind,” she said, trying to ignore the mixture of fear and desire that his closeness had unleashed.

      “I cannot bring myself to break my promise. How odd, considering my past. I don’t even want to do so.”

      “What harm is there in one kiss?”

      “Just one, then. An antidote to relieve your mind of any doubt as to your appeal to men.”

      He took her in his arms in spite of his reluctance. She breathed him in, the linen of his cravat tickling her nose, the wine on his breath drowning her senses. He smelled like man. No perfume or pomade, just man.

      Waverley began his redemptive kiss by brushing his lips across hers.

      Heat rippled through her body. She felt his tongue tease her lips apart, inducing shock waves down to her toes.

      “One kiss delivered as promised,” he said, drawing away, but she pulled him closer, clutching the lapels of his coat as if she was afraid he would vanish.

      He nuzzled her neck. “You may not want me to stop, but I must. Besides, there are consequences, you know.”

      “I don’t want you to stop, consequences be damned.” She lay back on the settee.

      His body pressed down against hers. She could feel his hardness through the fabric of her skirts, branding her stomach. A sound escaped from deep inside her, like the cooing of a dove. She shuddered when his fingers began to trace the neckline of her gown, each touch igniting her, turning her limbs to jelly. He tugged at the sleeves of her gown until they slid off her shoulders. She felt a welcome whisper of air wafting across her breasts. His hand curved around one breast and her nipple puckered. His thighs pressed against hers. She wondered at the curling of her toes. How odd. How wicked. She loved it. Somewhere in the haze of her thoughts, she yearned to know what came next. She squirmed beneath him, wanting more, wanting…what? She had no idea.

      He groaned and released her mouth, then lowered his own until his lips found a breast. He took the nipple between his teeth. His hand sought the treasure between her thighs.

      They paid no heed to the squeak of the door. Nor did the gasp of outrage from Amy’s lips reach their ears.

      When the heavy pitcher filled with water came crashing down on Lord Waverley’s head, it produced a loud thunk.

      That claimed their full attention.

      Chapter 5

      Friday, the Tenth of April, 1818

      “Good morning, ma’am,” Waverley said cheerfully as he took a seat opposite Helena. He behaved as though nothing had happened the evening before in spite of the visible bump on his forehead.

      Astonished, Helena took in the slight, dark-skinned man wearing a turban, a bright yellow coat that fell to his knees, pants, and shoes with curled-up toes. He followed his lordship into the dining parlor.

      Amused at her reaction, Waverley introduced his valet. “This is Rabu, ma’am. In the firm belief that I am unable to care for myself, Rabu insisted upon accompanying me home from India to accomplish that task. Isn’t that right, Rabu?”

      Rabu giggled, his grin reaching from ear to ear. “Yes, mastah.”

      “How do you do, Rabu,” said Helena, much amused.

      The little man made a sweeping bow. “Allo, meestress.” He giggled again.

      Waverley’s lips quirked. “Pay him no mind, ma’am. Rabu giggles all the time. Weddings, funerals, disasters. In spite of the giggle, he’s working hard at learning our tongue. I’ll have the eggs and some ham, Rabu.” At once, the valet bustled about serving his master.

      Helena took a sip of her tea. “He is quite an…original, my lord. How is your head this morning?”

      “My head is fine, thank you, except for this colorful bump developing on my skull. Speaking of which, how is your abigail? Dear little Amy is also an original. Was it you who taught her that delightful trick with the pitcher? Next time, advise her to empty it of water first before she puts it to such practical use.” He dug into his breakfast with his customary zeal.

      “I most certainly did not teach her such a shabby trick. Amy thought it up all by herself.”

      “Clever little puss,” he murmured between bites.

      Helena was fascinated by the extraordinary amount of food her escort was consuming. “You seem excessively hungry this morning. As if you haven’t eaten for a week.”

      “Oh no, ma’am. I eat like this all the time. Since I am an active man, I use food to fuel my body.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and waved to Rabu to remove his plate. “Coffee, Rabu.”

      “Yes, sah!” Rabu said with a hint of the military. And giggled.

      “We leave in one hour, to take advantage of the light, ma’am. I’ve asked the innkeeper to provide a basket for a midday meal. When we change horses at Taunton, a decent drink may be had, he informs me, but the food is not what he calls ‘good grub.’”

      She rose. “You’ll excuse me, then. I must supervise the packing if we are to be ready to leave so soon, sir.”

      His eyes twinkled as he saluted her with one finger. “Don’t be late, ma’am.”

      His last remark smacked of insolence, Helena thought, but she didn’t answer. She walked up the stairs and down the hall to her chamber, where she found Amy folding her clothes. “We leave in an hour, Amy. Be sure everything is packed and taken down to our carriage. Tell Casper that Lord Waverley’s valet will accompany us. He may sit up beside him.”

      “Yes, your la’ship.” Amy’s eyes were swollen from the tears she had shed over the tongue-lashing her ladyship had administered following last evening’s fiasco.

      Helena reddened in recollection of the humiliating scene. Amy had hit him with the pitcher all the while scolding him like a fishmonger for daring to “have his way” with her precious ladyship. To Helena’s dismay, Amy had yanked Helena’s bodice up while she continued to rant at the marquis. Waverley had merely held his head in his hands and groaned.

      When he was able to stagger to his feet, he’d barked, “Leave off, lass. No need for you to protect your mistress any longer.