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She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as the sensations wound so tight they fought for release.

The world crashed in on her as the release came, pulsing through her, her fingers curled, her nails cut into his skin, gripping him tightly as though she would fall. His lips covered hers, kissing her until the sensations passed, taking the sound that she would have cried out.

‘Good God, you are perfect,’ he said quietly, in awe.

His finger withdrew a little and she thought it was all over, but then she felt his finger again, pressing, gently stroking and provoking. Sensory delight, different than before, danced through her nerves. The day was hot; she had a desire to be rid of their clothes and lie naked together.

The column of his arousal pushed against her hip in the same rhythm that his finger withdrew and re-entered her. She wanted to touch him as intimately as he was touching her; that would be fair. Desperation pulling at her nerves again, her fingers fought to free the buttons on his waistband.

A soft laugh left his throat and entered her mouth. He did not help her, though; instead his lips left hers, his head lowered and he sucked her nipple.

The first then the second button came loose, releasing the flap of his trousers. Her fingers delved inside and touched the hard column of his flesh.

His skin felt like velvet.

She bit her lip and squeezed her eyelids tightly closed, hiding in the darkness, not wanting to witness her sinful behaviour.

She clutched it, holding firm, not knowing what else to do.

‘I’ll show you.’ His voice brushed over her breast, answering her unspoken thought. He raised his head and covered her hand with his. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. His finger and thumb were damp from where he’d touched her. ‘Like this,’ he said, as he drew her hand down and then up.

His eyes were pools of emotion, sunlight shining through honey.

I love you.

She no longer felt embarrassed by their intimacy, she was swimming too deep in their shared sensations, and she knew they were shared because his eyes told her he felt the same as she did.

His hand returned to her, and two fingers pressed inside her.

As they touched each other, they watched each other’s expressions.

The emotion caught so tight within her, it felt as though he had a hand about her heart too.

His head bowed and his hair brushed her skin as his lips touched her breast again.

Drew.

He sucked her nipple, his fingers working their charm between her legs.

Drew.

Her fingers clasped tighter about his erection, he covered her hand with his, moving it into a quicker motion then returned to the task of touching her.

Drew.

Hunger and thirst surged on a high tide, rising then pooling in the place where his fingers worked, her body impatient for more. She wanted his weight, his strength, his pressure on her and in her… there.

Her thoughts lost in the swirling turmoil, her thumb accidentally touched the tip of his erection.

A shiver racked his body.

It was a heady feeling, to discover she could move him as much as he moved her.

His suck pulled hard on her breast, then released and his head came up, a rogue’s smile twisting his lips. ‘Mary, darling, I’m trying to be good.’

‘And if I do not want you to be good any more?’ The breathless words tumbled from her dry mouth.

His eyes lost their rakish glint. ‘Sweetheart, you do. I made you a promise. You can trust me. I shan’t break it. I will not leave you with no choice but to marry me. I want you to choose me.’ The caress between her legs grew more intense as he spoke, utterly entrancing her body.

‘I am choosing you now,’ she said more forcefully, desperate to know the conclusion of this.

‘No. Your body is choosing me. You would only regret it later.’

He touched a particular point inside her that made her whole body arch and her head press back into the sofa cushion. His head bent and his lips brushed her temple, then his kiss touched the skin beside her eye. Her eyelids lowered and she gave herself to whatever this would be.

He kissed her cheek, her nose, her chin as his fingers and thumb played their wicked games.

Her hand embraced his erection, just holding now, as her other hand clung to his shoulder, her breathing quickening and her heartbeat racing.

‘Let go, sweetheart,’ he whispered huskily. ‘Trust me, you need do nothing more just relax and feel.’

The tide rose within her. He knew… He knew how she would respond.

His fingers stroked deep inside her as his thumb played over a sensitive spot at the fore of her sex. Sensations flowed like ripples through her body, like the last crests of the waves rolling over the pebbles at Lyme Regis, one racing across another, drawing back the smallest pebbles and spinning them over.

‘Please, I want you…’ She begged for him to conclude this.

‘You would regret it, darling. Just let go,’ he urged her as firmly as his fingers worked. ‘Come into my hand.’

Thoughts and feelings shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces that were swept away on a surging, rolling crescent of a wave. It washed through her blood like a bore tide, ripping through her veins, stronger than she’d felt before.

‘That’s it, sweetheart…’ he said as his movement stopped. It was as though he felt the emotions throbbing within her. Then his fingers were gone and instead he held the hand that held him and looked at her face. ‘I am sorry, darling. I am sorry, but I need this.’ His gaze clung to hers as their joined hands slid up and down much faster than before. It became a painful embrace.

His eyes shone, their onyx centres broad, glazed with a dark intent.

She understood; she could see the sensations he’d taught her echoed in his expressions.

Then he stopped. It was as though every muscle in his body locked. His eyes looked up to nowhere, and a cry of revelation broke his lips, rasping from his throat. He pulsed in her hand and wet heat spilled from his tip. This was his moment of ecstasy. The intimacy and vulnerability of it touched her soul.

He closed his eyes and his head rested on her shoulder. He breathed heavily.

He was not a monster, just a man. A man she loved, and a man who cared for her. A man who was labelled bad by society. They were wrong.

When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, they shone with gratitude. ‘You are divine. Thank you. When you are certain, my darling, when you say yes, then we will join, but not before. You must know you can trust me.’

As he stood up to right his clothes, her heartbeat slowed. She felt cold, despite the hot day.

He withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket of his morning coat, wiped his hand and then held it towards her. ‘Here… You may want to wipe yourself.’ He looked as if he feared she’d bolt.

She would not. She’d made her choice. She accepted the handkerchief, wiped her hand and between her thighs, remembering how she had begged him for more…

He smiled. ‘You look gorgeous with your hair tousled,’ he said, as he took the soiled handkerchief and slid it back into his pocket.

Heat burned in her skin as she swung her legs from the sofa, sitting upright before pulling up the neck of her chemise and securing the buttons of her bodice with shaking fingers. She stood. The hem of her dress fell, revealing how creased the muslin had become. Awkwardness beset her. What should she say and do now?

He smiled as he slid his arms into his morning coat. His waistcoat was buttoned up once more and his shirt tucked neatly into his trousers. Looking at him, no one would know they had done anything. Yet, if they looked at her, they would see the hair that had fallen from the comb and how crumpled her dress was.

His fingers tilted her chin and he kissed her quickly.

Her heart fluttered and her stomach flipped. Lifting onto her toes, she wrapped her arms about his neck, kissed his cheek and said to his ear, ‘I will, yes.’

His head pulled back, his eyes full of questions. ‘Yes?’

‘Yes. I will marry you.’

His brow furrowed, as though he did not believe her.

If she needed any more proof that he was not the rogue he seemed, here it was. His surprise and doubt only showed he was not as self-confident as he appeared. It was what he had not done, more than what he did, that convinced her. He’d determinedly remained mindful of her virginity. She would show people he was not what they thought.

‘You are sure?’

‘I am sure. I think I can trust you.’ She held his gaze, stepping tentatively onto a bridge of faith.

The expression in his eyes softened. ‘You think you can trust me, and I think I love you. Is this our foundation?’

Her palm rested against his cheek. ‘Do you wish to dissuade me now? You are only proving yourself worthy of my…’ She lost the courage to say the word.

His lips tilted to his roguish half-smile. ‘Of your what…? Of your love…? Do you think you love me too?’ His voice rang with surprise and hope.

She lifted her chin. Defiant. ‘I would not have done what we did if I did not.’

His gaze bored into hers, looking for something as his fingers tenderly brushed a lock of hair from her brow. ‘Let us be in love then. Let this be a love match.’ His voice sounded as if it rolled through gravel it was so deep and filled with raw emotions. He held her hand and pressed a hard brief kiss on her lips. ‘You know we must elope; your family will never agree to our marriage.’

She nodded. ‘I know.’ The weight of her decision settled heavily on her shoulders. This would be hard, she would break their hearts. But they would come to see the good in Drew.

‘I’ll make arrangements. Send the stable boy to me in three days and I’ll write to you.’

She nodded, the muscles inside her aching from his intimate touch.

His lips brushed hers, another brief touch, then he breathed across her mouth. ‘Sweetheart, I cannot believe you said yes.’

‘You must go. My parents will be home soon. I will walk you to the gate.’

‘Very well.’ He picked up his hat and gloves.

She led him by the hand, the leather of his glove now a barrier between them, walking with him under the cover of the trees and through the avenue of arches where the sweet-scented wisteria flowers hung down.

She did not stop until they reached the gate which opened on to the alley leading to the mews.

His gaze held hers. ‘I will write. I shall tell you when and where.’

She nodded.

‘We will be together soon.’ He smiled and his gloved fingers brushed her cheek then he bestowed a brief kiss on her lips.

He turned and slid the bolt loose.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

He opened the gate, threw a roguish smile across his shoulder, then left.

‘Mary!’

Every muscle jumped as she hurriedly slid the bolt back into place.

‘Mary! Mary!’ Several voices shouted. Her brothers and sisters. Her parents were home.

Her siblings would have tales to tell, about everything she’d missed.

She longed to tell her own news. I am engaged. A smile parted her lips. I am going to marry him.

Her siblings found her in the wisteria walk. They charged towards her, the younger ones shouting.

* * *

As Drew jogged up the steps of White’s, he grinned from ear to ear. When he walked into the room where his friends were ensconced a few moments later his grin had dropped to a smile but joy was lodged somewhere deep in his chest. He had said the words I love you . Only God knew if they were true; he did not. No one had taught him what love was. But his feelings for Mary were so much more than lust.

She had been without guile or artifice. Beautiful. Honest. Her soul naked. She had given him her complete trust… Then love…

The word love had come to his lips, the word he never thought he would say… Even if it were not true, it did not matter, he cared a great deal for her. He knew that much.

Strange new feelings whizzed through his nerves like fireworks. Pride. Happiness. Excitement. His life had become something to look forward to.

‘Success.’ He stated the single word as he joined his friends and dropped into the one free leather armchair about a low table. ‘You may congratulate me, gentlemen, I am engaged to the fair Miss Marlow.’

‘No!’

‘You dark dog!’

‘Bloody hell!’

All three exclamations broke at once. His friends rose to their feet, slapped his shoulder and shook his hand.

‘Our letters did their job then,’ Peter said.

‘It was more than the letters. It appears I’ve not lost my charm after all.’

Peter laughed. ‘You did not? It’s the middle of the day. How the hell did you get within ten feet of the girl?’

Drew smiled. That is for me to know…

Peter laughed again, shaking his head before sitting back down.

The others sat too, but as they did, Drew caught sight of Pembroke looking at him from the far side of the room.

Mary’s half-brother sat among his influential uncles.

Drew sent him a twisted smile. Let the bugger squirm, he would find out the cause of their exuberance soon enough. Her whole family would be baying for Drew’s blood then, but it was worth the fight.

Looking away, Drew poured himself some brandy from a bottle on the table between his friends. He would need at least a day and night alone with her. It would be best to leave in daylight, then they could travel more easily and cover more miles to find somewhere to spend the night in private.

There, he would fix their fate, so when they were found, there would be no going back. That was the best approach for her sake and his. To be ruined in private and married in London in public, not in a clandestine affair in Gretna. No one need know her family had been tricked into agreement.