Page 93 of All Scot and Bothered

He’d pledged never to become that creature again.

Which was what made Cecelia Teague such a danger to him.

Because she spoke to everything that had once made him little better than an animal. Despite her innate gentility, her intelligence, and her impeccable manners, she drew from him a carnal—nay—carnivorous instinct he found impossible to ignore, let alone control.

As evidenced by the prior night.

Ramsay’s body responded, tightening at the memory. Hardening with need.

The first time he’d met her as the Scarlet Lady, he’d been so angry, so self-righteous. Partly because he’d wanted to know what it would feel like to have that generous mouth wrapped around his cock.

He might have guessed it would be a singular experience.

But he’d never expected to lose himself in unparalleled bliss. He’d never have thought she’d surpass his every previous encounter, exceed his most salacious fantasies. That her body would be the vehicle to a rapture most men were not fortunate enough to attain.

He’d lain awake all night with the taste of her coating his mouth, the pleasure she’d wrought in him still thrumming through every sinew and cord of his body. He’d been so grateful for the chill of the evening, and yet he’d yearned for her warmth. Even after the heat had cooled, something else became insistent. Some other organ than his sex.

He didn’t simply want to fuck her, but to hold her. To comfort her. Tofindcomfort with her.

The thought of making her laugh held more innate appeal than receiving a knighthood. He’d rather spend an afternoon indulging her appetites for chocolate than dining with royals and Continental contacts.

Even after he’d cleaned his teeth this morning and washed all traces of her away, her essence clung to him like it was now a part of him.

And therein lay the crux of the problem.

She threatened to topple all he built. To leach his ambition from him and replace it with contentment—nay, complacency.

That, he could not abide.

He could not simply melt into her comfort. Couldn’t allow her softness to smooth away his sharp edges and temper what had made him hard, angry, and unrepentantly ruthless. He could not indulge, not without facing dastardly consequences.

But there was still honor to consider. His. Hers. And a mutual desire that was undeniable.

Only one thing to be done about it.

Claim her in every absolute way.

Marry her.

She was now Cecelia Teague and the Scarlet Lady. But… what if she could become someone else?

Cecelia Ramsay.

With her considerable skills, soft heart, and unparalleled intellect, she could be such a force in his world. Even though they both were cursed with tainted legacies, there was a chance to build a dynasty together that future generations would be proud of.

He could protect her, pleasure her, grant her and Phoebe opportunities they’d never have otherwise. Both freedom and respectability.

And perhaps, she could teach him something about happiness. And the odd indulgence.

Every time she smiled at him, with every kiss or intimacy they shared, a little light had ignited within that dark void inside him. He felt less empty.

What would a lifetime of her smiles do?

Ramsay shook his head, pushing the longing away and replacing it with resolve.

There would be time for that. But today, he had to stay sharp. Dangerous. Especially if he was about to take on the fortress built around the current Lord Chancellor and steal his dubious throne. All the while, he had to keep Cecelia safe. And to do that, he mustn’t allow distractions.

Something else stalked along the game trail, confidently picking its way through the thicket.