Page 1 of Seduced By the Squire (Diamonds in the Rough #1)

Toying with her food, Llinos watched the endless procession of servants going to and fro from the great hall. Roast lamb stuffed with rosemary, stewed greens, freshly baked bread, the smells assaulted her nose, challenging her already over-taxed brain.

All afternoon she’d mulled over the shocking idea that had burgeoned in her head when Sir Benedict had taken his leave.

I need not to be a virgin when he comes back because he will break our betrothal for certain if he finds me ruined.

He was this very moment riding to his great-uncle to inform him he had found the virgin bride he needed to make his position as heir secure. A maidenhead was the only thing he wanted from her but Llinos had the weakness to want a husband who took some interest in her as a person. That was precisely why she had remained unmarried for so long.

Because so far no one had.

For sure men took interest in her fortune, in her body, in her ability to run a household efficiently, but not in her . She wasn't sure Sir Benedict had realised she did not like red meat and could not countenance the sight of spiders. Not that this was what defined her, by any means, but surely a man who had spent weeks by her side should have noticed she never ate roasted venison or lamb and shivered at the mere mention of the eight-legged beasts.

Yet he always acted surprised when she refused the meat he offered her and never understood why she jumped out of her skin when a spider scuttled away from her.

No, Sir Benedict was a perfectly amiable gentleman, but he would never be a suitable husband to her.

And so when he came back in three months’ time, he would be told he could not marry her after all, and this when he had had just assured his great-uncle that he was the right man to be granted the family inheritance. It would undoubtedly be a blow. In desperation, he might well turn to Llinos’ cousin Ffion, who would only be too delighted to accept his offer, was definitely a demure virgin and too besotted with him to think of refusing the less than flattering offer. Yes, Llinos thought with satisfaction, all this would work for everyone’s benefit.

There was only one problem with her plan .

Finding a man to take her maidenhead was all well and good on principle, but how was she supposed to go about achieving such a thing? How could she work up the nerve to go to a man and ask him to deflower her? For that matter, who could she ask? It needed to be someone she could trust to behave gently in bed and keep silent about the whole episode afterwards. Or perhaps that was not such a necessity after all. If Sir Benedict was told she was going around asking men to her bed, he would cast her away before she had time to utter a single word of explanation.

It would work just as well but that was too extreme by far. She wanted him to rethink his choice of wife, not spread the word of her scandalous ways and utterly ruin her…

So she had better find someone discreet. But who?

Just then the door of the great hall opened.

As in a trance, Llinos watched a tall, broad-shouldered man walk up to the dais, the perfect answer to her prayers. A moan escaped her mouth and she quickly stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth to stifle it. Then she took a sip of her ale to wash down the shame of her reaction. What was that? Since when did she ogle men and moan while she did?

More importantly, who was this man and how could she convince him to make love to her?

The two questions jostled in her mind while he made his way across the room, all masculine presence and predatory intent. Why wasn’t everyone else gawping at him? You didn’t see a man like him everyday! His shoulder-length blond hair framed a face so perfectly chiselled it could have been carved out of marble by a master sculptor. From where she was she could not discern the colour of his eyes but she certainly saw how piercing his stare was, how graceful his gait, how muscular his body.

He was a living, breathing statue of male perfection, and just as enticing.

Not even throwing a glance in her direction, he ascended the dais to come and stand behind Lord Masterson. Which meant he was now perilously close to her. If she extended her left arm she would touch him. Not that she would ever do something like that of course… would she? For more security Llinos folded her hands in her lap, in case her body chose this moment to betray her. She suddenly felt it could not be trusted to behave decorously — or even normally. Only a moment ago her wicked throat had moaned out loud of its own accord. There was no guarantee her wayward hand would not now try to stroke the man’s taut buttocks.

Llinos went red to the roots of her hair. What did she know about buttocks, taut or otherwise?

“My lord,” the man said, his voice low but not so low that she didn’t hear. “Sir Gilbert is at the gate, requesting a word with you. I told him you were busy but I’m afraid he insisted.”

Dear God… Even the way he spoke was enticing, deep and velvety. It was as if someone had conspired to make the man as irresistible as humanly possible to test her resolve to the limit. Her whole body relaxed at the sound of his voice, as if he had actually stroked her. No! She stiffened on her chair. She was on the dais, in full view of everyone. It would not do to appear as if she were about to swoon.

“Did he say what this was about?”

“It seems that you were right, a group of outlaws were spotted in the woods yonder this morning and he…”

Lord Masterson waved the rest of the explanation away. “I will go and see him.” He stood up and bowed to her. “If you will excuse me, Lady Llinos?”

“But of c — ”

The word was cut short as, at that moment, the man turned his attention onto her. All at once she saw that his eyes were green, framed with gold, and even more piercing than she had supposed .

Oh. Lord.

Llinos forgot to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, he bowed to her. “My lady.”

She blinked, having no idea how to address him, having suddenly forgotten how to use her tongue. Apparently, she had been right, her body was unable to function normally in the presence of this man. Seeing that she did not respond, he tilted his head and took his leave. A moment later she was alone on the dais, as dazed as if she had just woken up from a dream.

Well, at least now she had the answer to her question. This was who she would ask to take her maidenhead, and no one else. She had not thought to choose a man who appealed to her senses before but now it was all she could think about. This man would make the whole thing seem less like a chore and more like a… Llinos wasn’t sure quite what but one thing was certain, she would enjoy every moment of it.

Before she could lose her nerve, she hurried towards the courtyard. Despite the small number of torches illuminating the place, it did not take her long to spot the man. He was too tall and too magnetic to melt into any crowd. He veered right and started to walk along the walls with long, easy strides.

Her heart skipped a beat. No! She could not lose him now!

“Wait, please!”

She came to a skidding halt when the man abruptly turned to face her. She had followed him all the way round the tower before calling out to him, preferring to have the very awkward conversation in a secluded place. The darkness around them was almost complete but she could see him thanks to the glow coming from a window situated on the second floor of the tower. The soft light made his green eyes sparkle like gems. Just like earlier, Llinos forgot how to breathe.

“My lady?”

“I…”

“Duncan,” he supplied, his face impassive. He could have been annoyed at the interruption, curious to hear what she had to say or simply bored. Her heart sank when she realised that he was most probably bored. Uninterested. Just like her betrothed. She wasn’t even sure he had recognised her for the woman who had just been sitting next to Lord Masterson at the high table.

She willed herself onwards.

“Duncan, I have a… erm…” Again she stalled, which was no wonder.

What on earth could she say? I have a favour to ask of you. Could you take me to bed, now, before I lose my nerve, and make love to me, before I lose my mind?

“My lady?” he repeated when she remained silent. “Is anything the matter?”

“Yes, I suppose there is.”

“Then can I be of assistance?”

He had a slight accent, one that gave his every word a seductive edge. He was not Welsh like her, or English, or at least not from round these parts. He did not speak like Sir Benedict or Lord Masterson, which only increased the appeal he exerted over her.

Before she knew what she was doing she placed a hand on his forearm. She was about to retreat in shock at her presumption when she realised that perhaps this was the best way to go about it. Perhaps she could make him understand what she wanted without having to actually say the shocking words… Could she convey with her body what she wanted? That might be the best, slightly less humiliating solution.

“Yes, I think you might be able to help me,” she murmured.

Under her palm she felt rock hard muscles tense.

Llinos saw in Duncan’s eyes the exact moment he understood what she wanted from him and she felt in the stiffening of his body that he would never consent to it, no matter how she asked, no matter how much she begged.

She did let go of his arm then.

*

The lady was propositioning him.

She wanted him, Duncan could not doubt it for one moment. She had gone all blurry-eyed and soft at his proximity. If he’d had a shilling every time he’d seen that look on a woman’s face he would have repaid his debt to Lord Masterson by now and be free to go back home to Scotland. No. He was no stranger to being pursued by women.

But a high-born lady coming on to him? That was most definitely new.

And highly unwelcome.

His whole body tensed up in loathing. Usually the women who came to him for a tumble did not raise his hackles so, because they were on an equal footing with him and he was free to accept or refuse the offer without fear of retaliation. They did not try to take advantage of him or think to use their status to put pressure on him. It was easy, a matter of simple desire between two people. But a tumble with this woman would be anything but simple. It would be demeaning, and quite possibly dangerous .

He would never agree to it.

Not that she lacked personal charm. In fact, had she been anyone other than a lady far above himself, he would not have hesitated in calling her… Duncan racked his brain for the best word to describe her and settled, oddly enough, on adorable.

Not beautiful, exactly, much less striking. Too petite, too shy to make a man catch his breath at first sight, she had nevertheless captured his attention. Her nose reminded him of a pixie’s, the freckles on her cheeks were the perfect counterpoint to her doe-like eyes and her rosy mouth was cute as a bow.

Aye, she was adorable.

Or at least she would be if she were not considering him as a piece of meat available to her just for the asking! Well, she’d chosen the wrong man to play with and he would make sure to let her know as much. Even if such an offer had not been insulting, he was not going to let history repeat itself, he was not going to allow her to make a fool out of him. He would not break his promise to his father, no matter how badly she wanted him, no matter how…

How alluring she looked.

Mo chreach!

The more he looked at her, the more Duncan could feel his resolve soften — and another part of his anatomy harden. Forget adorable, she was striking, in her own way.

Oh, how he wished he could show her what happened to women who provoked men twice their size. He wished he could punish her for her presumption and make her pay for making him feel so low – and tempt him despite his better judgement.

If he had her under him, as she clearly wanted, then he would make her regret asking for it. She had followed him all the way around the tower and to the postern gate, almost breaking into a run in her desperation to catch up with him. And yet earlier on the dais she had not even answered when he had greeted her. So that’s how it was. In public she considered it beneath her dignity to speak with people as lowly as him but in private, with no one to see, she was not above using them for her pleasure.

Pleasure.

The idea of feeling her spasm around his shaft almost wrenched a groan out of him. Oh, he would make her scream and pant, not relenting until she could not move and questioned the wisdom of having come to him.

Enough. All this did was make him harder than a poker.

“I think I know what you are looking for, my lady,” he said, trapping her impossibly delicate wrist into his hand and refusing to release her when she tried to snatch it away. If she wanted to touch him then she would have to deal with him touching her . “And it’s not going to happen.”

She blinked a few times in quick succession. “I’m not sure what you…”

Oh, and now she was playing the innocent, pretending not to understand what he was talking about, flushing like a maid, trying to save face, making it appear as if he was a boor for even thinking about debasing a nobly born lady.

Perhaps it was time to talk plainly.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he said, lacing the two words with heavy sarcasm. No woman behaving as she was behaving deserved the title. “But I am not going to fuck you.”

*

Heavens.

Everything inside Llinos tightened. In mortification, she assured herself, not in desire. That word! Spoken in that tone, by that mouth! It was both the most shocking thing she had ever heard and the most arousing.

“I-I…” she stammered.

“No need to pretend that’s not why you followed me all the way here,” Duncan said harshly. Her stomach sank further. So he had seen her leave the hall and rush after him… How had she thought he would not? She had not followed him after all, he had led her all the way here on purpose. “Or did you have an important message from Lord Masterson to deliver?” he added, a corner of his mouth curling up.

She couldn’t speak, not when she felt so utterly foolish, when he was looming over her, when her wrist was imprisoned in his impossibly large hand. On the dais she had been sitting, and not as close, she had not had a sense of just how big and forbidding he was. Not that he had appeared as a weakling, of course, but you needed to stand in front of him to really get a notion of his masculine presence. Not a tall woman, Llinos was used to feeling at a disadvantage, but not this… vulnerable.

This man, Duncan, made her feel as if he could have snapped her in half without even noticing, as if he could have thrown her above his head with one arm. Worse, he was looking at her as if he would have enjoyed doing those things, as if he was debating on the best way to humiliate her.

It had been a mistake to come here, where no one could come to her aid if need be.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to disentangle her arm from his hold. “I shouldn’t have — ”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he said, pushing her hand away as if the touch of her skin made his flesh crawl. He sounded so harsh, looked so disgusted that she recoiled in shame.

What had she done? This was why women did not pursue men and demand to be bedded! Because it was undignified and dangerous, because it made them feel soiled, stupid and worthless when the man refused them.

“I-I will leave you now,” she stammered, her breeding making it impossible to simply turn on her heel and walk away, even from a man behaving so shockingly towards her.

“Yes, I think it’s best.”

Foregoing the rest of the meal, Llinos fled straight to her bedchamber.

This had been a total disaster.