Page 9 of A Virgin for the Rakish Duke (Romancing a Rake #3)

CHAPTER NINE

H arriet hurried across the lawn, angling her body to hide the bundle of clothes and linen from the house.

Before leaving Oaksgrove, she had made certain Ralph was in his study—windows opening to the north, well away from the gardens.

And that Beecham, too, was nowhere in sight.

Then, seizing the chance, she had slipped into her brother’s rooms and gathered breeches, a shirt, and socks from his wardrobe.

Please God, do not let Beecham be watching from a window at this moment. And if he is, let him be unaware of what I am carrying. I could not explain it to Ralph in any way that would not leave me a prisoner for months to come.

She breathed slightly easier when the steps down to the water garden hid her from sight. It took a few minutes more to reach the summer house that had been erected before a waterfall, where the stream tumbled over a series of terraces to a pool below.

Men labored away at the paths that ran around that pool, which itself had only been dug out a matter of weeks ago. But those workers were a dozen feet below the summer house and would be unaware of its only resident.

A rather sodden Duke.

She climbed the steps to the rocky promontory on which the wooden house was situated.

Slipping in, she entered a room that occupied the entire ground floor of the house and looked out over the pool.

A selection of furniture not required in the main house was being stored here.

Jeremy was tending a fire in a stone fireplace at one end of the room.

He stood in his small clothes, which were wet enough to adhere to his shapely buttocks.

Harriet froze where she stood, gazing at the sculpted body before her.

His hair hung down to his shoulders, darkened by water.

He had not heard her enter, and continued to stand warming his hands before the fire.

What would it feel like to be held by that naked body?

He had already held her while they were both fully clothed.

This… would be an entirely different experience.

Harriet knew she could not stand there forever. Should not be secretly spying on him at all , in fact. She could not claim the moral high ground on the matter of their betrothal if she had been behaving as a voyeur.

Coughing, she kicked the door shut behind her with her heel, and Jeremy jumped at the noise. He spun to face her, and despite her best efforts, she barely managed to bite back a gasp.

His chest was broad and bulging with muscle. His abdomen was rigidly defined, and his stomach sleekly flat. His underclothes did little to disguise his manhood, and Harriet tore her eyes away from that part of him, mortified that he might have noticed her looking. Her cheeks flamed brightly.

“I brought you some dry clothes. You and Ralph are of a similar height, I think. I hope they fit.”

She came halfway into the room, holding out the bundle at arm's length. Jeremy advanced to take them, and his fingers slipped along hers as he did so. Harriet shivered, unable to face him.

“Thank you. Though I still insist it would have been easier simply to return to the house.”

“No!” Harriet shot back, “Beecham would have reported to Ralph, and he would never have forgiven me. Or you, for that matter. He must not know. Now, please, dress.”

“I must dry myself first. Or his clothes will bear the marks of water, and it will raise suspicions.”

It was an entirely reasonable point that Harriet could not help but concede. Jeremy set the clothes down on a chair shrouded by a dust sheet. He went to stand at the fire, this time keeping his back to it. Harriet turned away, going to the window and gazing out over the woodland pool below.

“Have you thought any more on my proposal?” he eventually asked into the cozy silence. “The one you deny already agreeing to by letter.”

“I think that letter must have been sent by my friend Jane. She had urged me to accept,” Harriet replied.

“Then I must thank her. It is crucial to me.”

Harriet forgot herself enough to glimpse over her shoulder at him.

He stood with hands clasped behind his back, which made his pectorals stand out. His eyes were sky blue, as piercing as an eagle's. There was the hint of a smile on his face.

“Why is it crucial?” she asked.

“All you need to know is that I must be well regarded by the Winchesters,” he answered.

“And that should satisfy me? I risk my reputation and my freedom, yet aren’t owed an explanation as to what I shall be risking it for?”

Jeremy sighed, half in concession. “It is sensitive. But relates to a property I wish to purchase. That I must purchase.”

“Yes, evidently. But I do not see how property can be so important. Unless you are like Ralph and only care for expanding your wealth.”

Jeremy strode toward her immediately, standing before the window. “I am nothing like your brother. He has always been obsessed with status and wealth. Even at school. I do not desire money for money's sake.”

There was naked passion on his face, his eyes ablaze.

Harriet believed him. There was authenticity and honesty in that anger.

She licked her lips, feeling the temptation to agree.

Temptation born out of her desire to remain close to this man.

To dance with him. To be seen by others as his fiancée.

To know that those others believed that she and Jeremy were kissing in corners.

Kissing and more in the way of young engaged couples.

She turned away, shivering at the desire that pulsed through her, trying to maintain her self-control. Jeremy caught her arm, spinning her back to face him.

“I promise you that I will keep your secret. About the Chelmsford Ball. And offer you a secret of my own for you to keep. A trade. My reputation in your hands. Yours in mine.”

I could look into those earnest eyes all day. And all night. Oh, how I wish I could look up into those eyes from my bed, while he is above me... Oh my! Where did that thought come from!

“There is no stream here to kick you into,” Harriet said breathlessly.

“Thank goodness,” he grinned back, “and you would not stamp on my feet while I am wearing neither shoes nor stockings?”

Harriet could not help but smile, too. “I could not.”

His nearness carried the lingering trace of his cologne—spice threaded with warm wood, as if the water had failed to wash him clean of it. The scent suited him: a Viking warlord with leather and steel in his blood.

Would it be so bad to indulge in this fantasy for a month? To be in his company, hold his hand, be kissed by him in the pretense of being betrothed. He is extraordinarily handsome and Herculean in his masculinity.

“I see the temptation in your eyes,” Jeremy said softly, that rakish smile of his returning. “You cannot hide from me.”

He stepped closer, his hand finding the small of her back.

She arched instinctively, breath catching.

Through the thin layers of her dress, his fingers pressed and stroked, until that single point of contact consumed her awareness.

His touch drifted upward, tracing her spine to the nape of her neck, slipping beneath the fall of her hair.

I cannot stop him. I do not want to stop him. Every sense is tingling.

She turned her head to take him in, to drink in his beauty. His hand was on the nape of her neck now. The intimate contact was thrilling, as was the sense of possession which his touch gave her. The idea of belonging to him was extremely… enticing.

Am I being seduced? Is this what it feels like when a rake sets his sights on an innocent lady? I will not be used!

Harriet had let her lips hover near his before pulling back, slipping from his touch.

Her breath came fast, as if she’d run a mile.

Color burned in her cheeks, but she made no attempt to hide it.

Instead, she tossed her hair back and met his gaze head-on.

Slowly, deliberately, her eyes swept down his body—grazing his unmistakable arousal—before immediately lifting to his face again.

“I… am willing to accept your proposal,” she breathed raggedly, “—on a few conditions.”

Jeremy made no move to conceal his nakedness as he leaned on the window frame.

“And they are?”

“If Ralph learns of this, then the arrangement is immediately over, and for all intents and purposes, never happened ,” she ordered slowly.

“Agreed.”

“There will be no more of... this ,” she continued, waving her hands between them, “we will be betrothed in name only, and for a month only. After that, the facade ends. It ends if you attempt to seduce me, also.”

He arched a brow. “You fear me that much?” he asked wryly.

“I simply will not allow myself to be used,” she replied.

“But you already are, as am I. I use you to get what I want, and you use me to get what you want. There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I will not be a plaything,” she amended instead, “to be discarded when you grow bored.”

Jeremy's face hardened, and Harriet wondered if she had offended him.

“Accepted,” he uttered, “your honor will be safe. I will not attempt to seduce or compromise you. Provided you can make the same promise to me. My honor is just as important as yours.”

Harriet found herself gaping at him, and he laughed, throwing back his head. He turned away from her, returning to the fire, and Harriet found herself watching his behind as he went.

Stop that! I must not look at him in that way. But then again, why else am I entering this arrangement if not to experience that which has been forbidden to me? To taste freedom…

Jeremy had paused to gather the pile of clothes Harriet had brought.

Appalled by her own recklessness yet powerless to resist, she crossed the room in a rush.

His head lifted in surprise as she reached him, flinging her arms around his neck and claiming his mouth.

His damp body pressed hard against hers, and she felt the stirring of his desire, insistent once more against her belly.

Jeremy responded by throwing his arms about her and spinning her until the chair was at her back. He lowered her into it, lips expertly playing with hers, sending waves of pleasure with each contact.

Harriet clung to him, fingers sliding into his hair to hold him close. She broke away just long enough to kiss the line of his neck, nip at his skin, and smile at the gasp it drew from him. One hand wandered over the hard planes of his body, feeling muscle shift and tighten beneath her touch.

Then she braced both palms against his chest and shoved hard. Even with all her strength, he yielded only an inch before rising slightly, gazing down at her. His blue eyes burned, his face taut with desire, cheeks flushed.

“I… I needed to get that out of my mind. To experience it once. It must not happen again,” she panted, “but I agree to your proposal. I will be your betrothed for a month.”

For a long moment, Jeremy simply stared at her. Then he drew back with all the force of a departing galleon before offering his hand to guide her up. As she regained her feet, he stole another quick peck of her lips.

“ Now it is really done and will certainly not happen again,” he remarked with an insolent smile. “In the meanwhile, we can discuss how we may get you out of the house for dinner with the Suttons. There is still much for us to plan.”