The Lady's Wicked Proposition (Wicked Liaisons series) (2 page)

“Let us resume the game.”

Picking up the cards, he knew he needed a hit. Unfortunately, the next card took him from sixteen to two-and-twenty. Miss Merriweather could have five and she’d win the game. He handed back her marker from the last hand and picked up her cards to shuffle the pack again. Curious, he stole a peek at her hand.
Twenty-one
.

Miss Merriweather had out-played him, whether by design or by luck, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he’d underestimated her and he wondered if she might surprise him in other, more intimate ways as well.

***

Chapter Two

After the third young coquette presented herself in the theatre box, hoping to see—and be seen—with Francis, he rolled his eyes and considered escape. Six months of being the prize buck of the season had taken its toll.

Bored, he searched for Miss Merriweather in the crowd. His gilded quizzing glass revealed no sign of her. Strolling behind the private boxes in his row, he heard nothing of her voice, saw no hint of her petite figure behind the thick, red curtains.

Last night’s confession was still on his mind. He wanted to see her again, but would she prevaricate and feign ignorance?

“You are popular tonight,” Simon remarked.

“Jealous?” Francis teased. Simon and Rowena had only come to London recently, and news of their marriage had shocked the
haute ton
. Everyone wanted Lord and Lady Waverly at their dinner tables and soirees.

“I am enjoying your popularity far more than you are.”

Francis grinned. “Perhaps I should hide beside the chamber pots until the opera begins.” His grandmother had convinced all and sundry that he wanted to find a wife.

“The ladies will merely send a footman after you with more notes,” Simon gestured behind them where an usher stood, carrying two missives.

Giving a tip to the usher, Francis retrieved the notes. One was from a bold chit he’d never heard of, begging for an introduction. The other…was far more intriguing.

Are you tired of being chased by this season’s debutantes? If you want to hear a proposition far more interesting than this evening’s theatricals, come and meet me outside. I will be waiting in a black hackney. The coachman wears a yellow rose.

-M.

Francis passed the note to Simon, whose eyebrows raised. “Will you meet her?”

“I see no reason to refuse. I confess I am intrigued.”

“Then go. Go before Rowena and Delphine return and badger you with questions.”

With a quick bow, he made his exit and hurried down the stairs. He prayed that he would not cross paths with Simon’s sister-in-law, Delphine, who would insist on a thorough explanation for his departure. She ferreted out secrets faster than anyone he knew.

When he stepped outside, the chill air whipped his face, and he pulled on the brim of his top hat as he looked for the hackney. The lantern light made the black carriages look the same. Where was the driver with the yellow rose?

“Good even’, my lord. By chance ye be lookin’ for a lady?”

Francis eyed the man up and down, but he wore no yellow rose. Perhaps the driver was soliciting for a prostitute, though it seemed unlikely.

“I am meeting a friend,” he said, neutrally.

“There’s a hackney been waitin’ for a while, down the end there, with a pretty Miss inside.”

His hand reached out, and Francis dropped two shillings into the man’s palm.

Sure enough, the fellow with the yellow rose was at the end of the street, sitting atop a black carriage. A dark figure sat inside, but the woman’s face wasn’t visible, only the black folds of her cloak.

“Good evening. I am here at the lady’s request.” He held up the letter, but the driver waived his hand in dismissal.

Francis opened the door to the hackney and stepped inside.

“You came.” Edwina. He wasn’t sure if he was surprised or relieved.

“I never disappoint a lady.” Taking the seat beside her, he pulled off the hood of her velvet cloak.

“We shall see.”

“I confess I am curious as to how you plan to save me from this season’s crop of fortune-hunting debutantes?”

Edwina shivered and clutched her cloak tightly. He debated on whether to pull her against him to minimize the chill.

“My plan is simple. You agree to become my lover, as we discussed, and I will, in turn, agree to become your fiancée. You can parade me around town, introduce me to your family, and let everyone believe we are going to wed.”

“I take it the engagement would be a farce?”

She nodded. “We would both be free to do as we please in private and appear together as a couple in public. At the designated time, we would invent an excuse and call off the engagement.”

The idea suited his purposes nicely—he could fend off his family and send the young chits after another rich bloke—but it would ruin Edwina. A failed engagement often reflected poorly on the lady rather than the gentleman.

“Why put your reputation at risk? What is so important to you that you would take such drastic action?”

Her heavy sigh affected him more than he chose to let on. “All my life, I’ve done as I was told. I dressed as my mother and grandmother bade me. I considered the gentlemen my grandfather wanted. However, most of those gentlemen did not consider
me
, and I strove to be compliant to save myself from the ill-temper of the man that I was utterly dependent on.”

He squeezed her hand, knowing too well the difficulties of being raised by relatives after the death of one’s father.

“My grandparents passed away two years ago. Then I was dependent on the financial generosity of a great-uncle, who cared as little for me as a horse cares for a worm under its hoof. However, it was my good fortune—quite literally—that he sired no children.”

“Now you are the wealthiest heiress of the season.”

“Yes, and while I have the fortune to attract a husband, I have no need or want of one. I value my freedom, sir. This engagement could give me everything I’ve wanted. I cannot go to my grave unloved, untouched. I want to know a man’s hands on my thigh.” She moved his hand accordingly. “I want to know the feel of a man’s lips on mine until I sigh in pleasure.”

She leaned in close, pausing a mere breath from his mouth. “I want to know desire. Will you show me?”

Her warm body was so close and her lips a tempting morsel of fruit that he longed to taste.

“Are you sure? If you truly want to be seduced, there are easier ways. As much as I appreciate the feasibility of your plan, I am hesitant to agree to it.”

Frowning, she pulled away. “What can I say to convince you?”

“I do not know.”

His muscles were tight, his cock hard, and he wanted to throw off his scruples and slide his hand between her thighs. But his conscience would not let him alone. Why he should suddenly develop moral principles now, with
this
woman, he couldn’t fathom.

When she laid her hand on his chest, the tension mounted, and his heart pounded.

“May I ask you this, Mr. Chevalier, do you find me appealing?” She leaned in closer and when she whispered, he felt her breath on his face. “If I were to kiss you, would you turn away?”

Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his and dropped her hand to his thigh. Soft lips teased and seduced, fraying away the edges of his control.

He didn’t want her to stop.

She licked her lips as she pulled away, and he inched closer to resume the kiss.

“I think that answers my question.” She wiped his lower lip with the tip of her thumb. “I must admit that I am quite surprised. I never expected a man of your reputation to resist on moral grounds. Who would believe that a rake could resist seducing an innocent woman, when she practically thrust herself into his face?”

He laughed at her naïveté, picturing the very image she conjured with her words. Indeed, he very much looked forward to her thrusting her pretty pussy in his face. Thinking of it made his prick strain against his pantaloons.

The lady played with fire. If she got too close, she’d find an insatiable demon instead of a man.

“You will not rest until I pin you to the bed and fuck all the silly little notions out of your head.”

At his crude words, she had the grace to blush.

Edwina continued, “Since you seem as determined as I to avoid marriage, this is the best solution. I will play your fiancée through the end of the season, and you can let everyone think you have finally settled down. We can break it off before Parliament reconvenes in the winter.”

He should say yes. Why must he be noble and responsible when clearly she could care less?

“You are an innocent,” he said matter-of-factly. “While I can teach you the ways of lovemaking, you might run off in tears once you realize exactly what I will require of you, should you become my lover.” Though he suspected that she had a passionate nature, she might have some absurd fantasy in her head, and the reality of the business could make her regret the whole endeavor.

You are deluding yourself, making ridiculous excuses
, he thought.
Take the chit home and be done with it. You torture yourself by prolonging the inevitable.

“I assure you I will not run off like an ignorant child. However, if you wish me to soothe your
delicate sensibilities
, I will amend the offer.” She shot him a pointed look. “Take me to bed tonight, and if either of us is unsatisfied, we will forget about the arrangement entirely. However, if the night should prove as enjoyable as I suspect,” she trailed her finger across his jaw, making him shiver, “then you agree to the terms, and we will announce the engagement this week, at an event of your choosing.”

It was more than fair. His scruples were no match against this brazen woman. She would pursue him, offering him every temptation he could imagine, until he gave in. Why continue to fight her?

There was no reason to deny her, no reason to forgo the delicious satisfaction of taking her in any and every way she allowed. An engagement would afford him many opportunities to be alone with her, to touch her, to learn every curve of her body and experience every sigh of pleasure.

Giving in to desire, he slipped his hands beneath the folds of her cloak and stroked the soft mounds of her breasts, which he longed to free from their stays so that he could tease and taste them at his leisure.

She gasped at his gentle manipulations and clutched his shoulders. Soon, she would be free of those gloves, and he would feel her nails on his bare skin as he caressed the delicate petals of her sex, first with his fingers, then his lips.

With a hard kiss, he sealed their bargain. “I am at your disposal, my lady. Shall I escort you home? Or would you rather accompany me back to my den of iniquity?” He smiled as he bent forward and traced his lips over the soft skin of her neck.

***

Clutching him tighter, Dina arched her neck to give Chevalier easier access. His heavenly kisses warmed her all over, and she no longer noticed the evening chill.

She vacillated. If she went home, she’d be in her own bed, among her own things, and she could send him away in the morning and go about her routine. It was altogether convenient. If she went to his townhouse, she’d be dependent on him for transportation home, unable to leave at her own discretion.

“I think I should like having you draped across my bed, your dark hair spilling over the sheets and your hands clenching the wooden headboard as I pluck away your virtue.”

As he whispered, she saw every vivid detail in her mind. She wanted to make it real, to feel his body cover hers, to let herself go within the safety of his arms.

Surely she could give up the freedom of her own domicile for one night. She needed him to agree to her plan, and what would put him more at ease than seducing her in his own private space? There, he could be as wicked as he pleased, and she wouldn’t have the distraction of worrying about her servants hearing them together.

“Give the coachman your address,” she whispered.

Chevalier’s hands roamed freely under her cloak as the carriage made its way to Grosvenor Square. Gentle caresses became bold as he perused her body with his fingers. Her breasts and thighs tingled where he’d touched them, and her mouth hung open, waiting for another kiss.

She’d picked the perfect man. Chevalier knew her body far better than she, stroking every curve and line as a master sculptor might admire his finished work.

When they approached the square, he adjusted her hood and closed the front of her cloak. She spied a cluster of red-brick townhomes with white steps and smooth Doric columns. Before she thought to ask which one was his, he lifted her out of the carriage and set her onto the pavement. He tossed some coins to the coachman. “Come back before dawn, and I’ll give you more.”

“Yes, sir!” The driver tipped his cap, beaming.

Dina took a deep breath as they walked up the steps to Chevalier’s townhouse. The moment was here. She entered this place as a naïve, dewy-eyed girl and would return home a woman of experience. Everything she wanted was so close. If she reached out, she could grasp it in her fingers.

***

Chapter Three

As they walked up the stairs, he led her by the hand, and her heart beat so wildly that it echoed in her ears. Was he feeling as nervous as she?
Of course not. The man has bedded the most beautiful widows and courtesans.
Dina was another amusement, a means to an end.

He stroked her hand when they came to the landing. “All will be well. I promise to take very good care of you.”

She kissed his palm. “Thank you.”

This is just an arrangement
. The truth was she liked Chevalier. His charm, grace, and seductive smiles had made an impression on her even before she’d overheard his conversation with Lord Waverly that only confirmed her choice.

Dina was unprepared when Chevalier slipped his arm behind her knees and scooped her up like a babe, carrying her to his chamber. She gasped, and he chuckled at her surprise. Looping her arms around his neck, Dina relaxed against him and let her head rest on his chest.