Page 39 of The Forbidden Lord (Lord Trilogy #2)

But if he gave in, accepted her offer, he’d lose his only method of convincing her to tell him the truth.

No, he couldn’t give that up. She offered him this because she was desperate, not because she wished to share his bed.

It was obvious how desperate, for she was as skittish as a filly at her first mating.

She couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with the deuced gown, and her eyes swept his study as if searching for the monsters sure to be lurking behind his bookshelves.

Devil take her for this. “Your scheme means so much to you that you’d prostitute yourself to save it?”

She flinched at the word “prostitute,” but it didn’t seem to halt her in her purpose.

“Yes. The purpose of my masquerade is more noble than you think, and if you end it before—” Anger flashed in her eyes, then was gone.

“You must believe me. Many people will be ruined if you speak to Lord Nesfield. And yes, I’ll do anything to keep that from happening.

” Reaching up, she removed the pins from her hair, sending the rope of golden silk cascading down about her shoulders. “Anything you want.”

A jolt of desire turned his knees to rubber. The scent of lavender teased him, and when she shook out her long hair, he thought he’d gone to a rake’s heaven.

Or a rake’s hell. “What kind of man do you think I am?” he choked out, as much to convince himself as her. “Do you really think I’d take your innocence for any reason?”

“You needn’t … worry about that.” She tilted her chin up. “It’s not a concern.”

His blood ran cold. He couldn’t have heard her right. “What do you mean?”

She drew a shaky breath. “There’s no ‘innocence’ for you to take. I’m not as pure as you think.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not? How do you think I could play Lady Emma so convincingly? Even you weren’t sure who I was.

Do you know any virgins who behave as I did?

” She thrust out her chest, taunting him to look at the breasts that fairly burst to be free of the velvet.

“Would they wear a gown like this to an unmarried man’s home? ”

She was playing Lady Emma now, wasn’t she? The experienced Lady Emma. The tempting Lady Emma. It was all a role. Wasn’t it?

Sidling up to him, she removed the brandy snifter from his numb fingers and set it down on the nearby desk.

Then she laid her perfect little hand on his chest and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Come now, Jordan, surely you’ve wondered if I might be …

less than pure. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have believed Mr. Pollock’s tales. ”

“I didn’t … believe them,” he murmured, though his throat had suddenly shrunk to a tiny passageway that barely allowed air in or out of his body. If she didn’t step away from him soon …

Another button. Another. “Yes, you did. And with good reason.”

Jealousy exploded behind his eyes. “So you did let him kiss you?”

She wouldn’t look at him. “He kissed me, yes. And … and touched me.”

“Is he the one who—”

“No, of course not.” Her hand went still on his shirt front. “It happened before I came to London. You don’t know the man.”

That roused his suspicions, though she didn’t seem to notice. Oh, no, she merely went on unbuttoning his shirt, edging so close that he could only watch in utter fascination as her breasts lifted and fell more quickly with each breath.

At least she could breathe. He’d given up on it altogether.

“Who was he then?” he rasped. She was lying. She had to be. When she shrugged, he goaded her. “Your cousin perhaps. The one with you at the Drydens ball.”

“Certainly not!”

Her outrage confirmed his suspicions. She’s only acting a role, he told himself. He’d rather believe that than believe he’d misjudged her character.

Glancing up, she caught the suspicion in his gaze, then added stubbornly, “Lawrence is a prude. He would never touch me.” With a half-smile, she slid her hand inside his shirt to caress his chest. The feel of her fingers on his bare skin was incredible, like being stroked by an angel.

“It doesn’t matter who it was. I don’t care about him.

I want you. I’ve always wanted only you. ”

She bent her head to press a kiss to his chest, and he jerked beneath her touch. If she was acting, it was certainly a convincing performance. “It can’t be true. I know you are—”

“Innocent? Do you? As you said before, what do you really know about me?”

Devil take her, she was muddling his brain. Her hand swept lightly over his ribs, and he sucked in a breath. If she were what she claimed, then he could have her. Here. Tonight. For her willingness to share his bed, he would give her whatever she wanted.

But she wasn’t willing. She was only pretending to be willing, the way she had at the museum. And doing a damned good job of it, too. Her fingers were skimming down his waist now, light, sensuous. He wanted them lower, much lower.

She cast him a seductive smile. “Let’s enjoy each other as you always wanted. Then you can give up this nonsense about going to Lord Nesfield and causing trouble.”

That reminded him of why she really was here. He caught her hand, squeezing it hard. “I won’t agree to your bargain. I don’t believe you’re not an innocent. I won’t believe it.”

For a moment, her sensuous expression slipped, and he thought he saw worry flicker in her face. But it was gone so fast, he wasn’t sure. In its place was a look of frightening determination … the look of a woman bent on seduction.

“Then I shall have to convince you.” Taking him by surprise, she laid her hand on the bulge in his trousers. The traitorous thing leapt at her touch. He groaned as a purely feminine look of satisfaction covered her face. This role of hers was becoming far too real.

Her fingers explored him through his trousers, caressing and intimate, stroking him with a surety that gave him pause even as he went hard as iron. Cursing under his breath, he caught her hand and shoved it away. Deuce take the teasing wench! How could she know just how to tempt a man?

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he looked for some sign of uncertainty in her eyes, but there was none. A slow smile touched her lips as she curved her hands around his waist and then had the audacity to slide both hands down to cup his buttocks. She squeezed and he nearly erupted right there.

“Well? Shall we go on?” she asked in the silken tones of a lover.

That’s when his body declared mutiny. It no longer cared if she were the purest virgin or a tempting wanton. It was needy and hungry and ready to take her on the floor. She was offering herself, and God help him, he would accept her offer. Now.

Before he could change his mind, he caught her in his arms, kissing her with all the desire that had built in him since the day he first saw her.

Her soft response, the way her body melted and her mouth opened beneath his, filled him with such possessive, damnable gladness that it frightened him.

Good God, the taste of her … the scent of her, luscious and beguiling …

it would make any man forget himself. Wildly he stabbed his tongue inside her warm mouth, now almost mad to join himself with her.

Her body undulated against his as fluidly as a cat’s. He could almost imagine her purring as she twined her arms about his neck, threading her fingers through his hair to clutch him close.

Then the clock struck midnight, startling them both.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he glanced at the clock, then around the room at his somber study. He didn’t know if he could wait another second to have her. But she deserved better than this.

“Come on,” he said as he dragged her toward the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To my bedchamber. I won’t take you here on the floor like some savage.”

She halted short of the door. “Does this mean you agree to my bargain? You’ll … keep silent?”

Her words reminded him uncomfortably of why she was doing this.

He glanced at her, wishing he had the will to refuse her and knowing he didn’t.

One look at her tumbled hair, reddened lips, and eyes glazed with need was enough to make him abandon any scruples.

“Keep silent? I’d bind my tongue forever just to have you in my bed tonight. ”

Triumph briefly glinted in her eyes. Then she touched her finger to his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips with a sensual gesture that made lust rage through his body. “I can think of other, better uses for your tongue.”

He caught her finger in his teeth, sucking on it until a sigh escaped her lips. When he released it, he was harder than before, if that were possible. “So can I. Come with me, and I’ll demonstrate just how many.”