To Capture a Rake

by Lori Brighton

  Oh, she was wicked, completely and utterly wicked, because she liked watching him. She liked the arrogant quirk of his brow. The broad set of his shoulders. She liked his hard body, his musky scent. She liked the way he filled the room with his presence. She didn’t like the way he made her feel…confused, unsure, unsettled.

  As his waistcoat came off and he shrugged the material from his broad shoulders, his shirtsleeves following, she thought she just might die from the heat that swept uncomfortably through her body. Embarrassment, yes. But more. She’d experienced lust before, had even been kissed and enjoyed it. But never had she known such an intense aching need that twisted low in her belly and spiraled to that feminine spot between her legs. She almost forgot her own nudity.

  He was all hard planes and muscle. So much muscle, she had to curl her fingers in order to resist the urge to smooth her fingertips over those dips and mountains. The man towered over her like some marble statue come to life. A work of art, he should have been in a museum.

  But he was human, as she had to remind herself. His chest rose and fell with each harsh intake of his breath. She could just see the outline of his ribs between his muscles, and a thin trail of dark hair that bisected his chest, disappearing underneath the waistband of his trousers. Yes indeed…human. Even if he didn’t act like it.

  “Do you like what you see?”

  Flushing, she jerked her attention back to his face, that aristocratic nose with the slightest bump, those gray eyes that gave him a dangerous air…a beautiful fallen angel. But there was nothing romantic about their encounter. “Yes, very much.”

  No, it was pure lust that fueled this night. He cocked a dark brow, surprised by her honest response. She liked surprising him, for in that brief moment of shock he let his guard down. It was merely a flash of bemusement…as if he’d been playing a game of chess and well on his way to saying checkmate when someone threw the board up into the air, destroying the game.

  “Shall I help you bathe?”

  “Y-yes.” Thank goodness, it was just the excuse she needed to break eye contact. Lord, one glance at the man and she lost all common sense. She turned her back to him and headed toward the tub, acutely aware of his gaze on her backside and thankful that her hair was long enough to at least cover some of her nakedness.

  She took in a deep, shuddering breath, steeling her nerves. She was a woman of the world. She’d seen things that would make a grown man blush. She could do this. Without pause she stepped into the warm water. It felt like heaven to her chilled body. Her skin pebbled and she shivered, sinking gratefully into the water. For a brief moment, the warm cocoon soothed her anxiety and stole her attention.

  Then she heard the creak of the floorboards and any calmness fled. Slowly, he made his way toward her, and she was acutely aware of why she was there. He’d removed his shoes and stockings and wore only trousers as dark as his hair. He lowered himself to his haunches, his gaze locked to hers, so close his musky scent swirled upon the steam and formed a heady cloud around her. His scent made her dizzy. Or perhaps that was his nearness. Or mayhap their state of undress.

  “Lean forward,” he demanded as he reached around her for the washing cloth and soap that were placed nearby upon the small table.

  She hesitated, resisting the urge to tell him to sod off, but there was something about being naked that made a person feel very, very small and vulnerable. Instead of arguing, she rested her forehead on her drawn-up knees, curling into herself and hiding as best she could. Nothing could have prepared her for his touch. When the cloth pressed to her back, she actually jumped, her heart nearly leaping from her throat. She’d been leered at, groped, and even kissed upon occasion. But never had a person’s touch made her feel like this.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  So very much! Nervous, yes, but more. With this man she had such a heated desire that the feelings left her reeling. She didn’t need to look at him to know he found her unease amusing. “No. Merely…looking forward to our evening.”

  Gads, she sounded ridiculous even to her own ears. Fortunately he didn’t respond. No, because he was too busy seducing her. She didn’t dare move, barely breathed as he swirled the cloth in large circles down…down…down her back. Although the material separated them, she swore she could feel his fingers through the cloth. Blood pulsed wildly through her body, protesting the surge of emotion that swept through her veins.

  She’d been anticipating this moment for months now, wondering what would happen, how she would feel. But never, ever had she imagined these feelings…these desires. How could she know? She released the air she held, sending ripples across the water. She wanted this to happen. It must happen.

  Yes, it was a sound plan, until he moved once more. When his hand slipped around her waist and up over her ribs, the tips of his fingers just brushing the underside of her right breast, the entire world seemed to tilt. She wanted to surge to her feet, but feared her weak legs wouldn’t hold her. Instead, Elizabeth froze and could do nothing but let him touch her.

  His hand shifted, coming up over her right breast. Elizabeth bit back her groan. Her nipples hardened into tiny, sensitive buds. The entire room came quickly into focus. The light from the lantern and fireplace practically throbbed in time to the ache between her legs. The air seemed cold, bitterly cold, while her body heated with such an intense blaze that deep down she felt afire. This was what women whispered about behind painted fans.

  He paused, his chest so close to her back, she could feel his heat. His hand was still tucked underneath her breast. She didn’t dare breathe for fear that any movement would bring them closer together. Slowly, he shifted backward, taking the cloth with him. She felt suddenly chill.

  “There, you’re clean.”

  Was it her imagination, or did his voice come out huskier than normal? She lifted her hand for the washing cloth. “Thank you.”

  “Stand,” he demanded.

  She was so surprised by his command that she actually scampered to her feet before she thought better. She’d never been ordered about so much, and she’d certainly never obeyed someone as much as she jumped to do his bidding. She despised him and herself for it but couldn’t seem to stop.

  Water trailed down her body like fingers caressing her skin. She stood there…merely stood there while he slowly looked her over as if she were a piece of French furniture he might purchase. Although he didn’t touch her, it felt as if he did. She felt every glance like it was a bold touch.

  When he moved closer, she had the urge to shrink back. So close, he towered above and took over her senses, her space, her world. She was dizzy and confused by his nearness. He lifted his hand and drew the cloth over her chest. Overwhelmed with a variety of emotions, she closed her eyes. Lower, he traveled, down the valley between her breasts, toward her stomach. Her muscles quivered, jumping in surprise and yes…excitement.

  Elizabeth bit her lower lip. His hand paused above the nest of curls shielding her femininity. For a brief moment the entire world seemed to freeze. For a brief moment she thought she’d die of embarrassment. Those steel eyes met hers and she received the silent message…Gideon was completely and utterly in control. The realization terrified her.

  Just when she thought she might swat his hand away, he shifted and did something utterly terrifying. He lowered to his heels, his hands trailing down her thighs. Wonderfully kind of him, but kneeling before her brought him so close to that aching spot between her legs that her body burned with embarrassment. She had a feeling he did it on purpose. She squeezed her eyes shut and took in a deep, shuddering breath.

  “Ye have lovely legs,” he said softly, his voice coming out in a Scottish purr that sent a shiver over her skin.

  Oh, he was good. So very intoxicating. She understood the man’s popularity at Lady Lavender’s. His hands curved over her calves and swept higher toward her thighs once more. She wasn’t sure what to make of his compliment, for she’d had so few. Yes, men had spouted pretty words, bu
t only in hopes that she’d lift her skirts in appreciation. And Mr. Ashton had merely been being kind when he’d complimented her. But Gideon complimented her, and she had a feeling he actually meant what he said. After all, it wasn’t as if he was paying her compliments in order to get under her skirts. She had gotten rid of her skirts quite willingly.

  He straightened to his full and impressive height, looming over her once more. She wasn’t sure which was more intimidating, having him on his knees or having him towering over her. He tossed the washing cloth to the table. Before she had time to properly prepare, his large hands boldly cupped her breasts. Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. Lord, she’d known it would happen, but she hadn’t expected him to be so daring, so possessive.

  She told herself that she would be brave, or at least pretend. Then his thumbs brushed across her hardened nipples and all pretense fled. Her knees went weak, the floor gave way. She would have fallen, tumbled back and splashed headfirst into the blasted tub, if his strong arms hadn’t wrapped around her waist and drawn her up close. Her breasts smashed to his body, and her hardened nipples brushed against the crisp hair on his chest. The situation became completely and terrifyingly real.

  Elizabeth squeaked and spun away. “I’m chilled.”

  With trembling fingers, she snatched her shift from the floor. She had the undergarment back on before he’d gotten a chance to react. Ridiculous. She was being ridiculous, but she needed a moment, merely a moment to gather her courage. Elizabeth wrung her hands together as she paced to the fireplace, her back to him. She wanted this. She needed this. Hell, she was no prude, so why was she so bloody nervous?

  “Undress,” he demanded.

  She spun around, her gaze clashing with his cold eyes, impossibly chill. He seemed actually annoyed with her. “W…what?”

  “Undress.”

  “You undress,” she snapped back, the words tumbling from her lips before she thought better.

  Gideon lifted a dark, menacing brow. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he rested his hands at his waistband. And she watched. Lord, did she watch him as if she’d never seen a man before. He undid the fastening on his trousers and let the material fall to the ground. He was naked, utterly naked. And he was beautiful.

  Gideon should be in a museum. He should be revered, not used in a brothel. His feet bare, his chest bare, his entire body bare, there was no shame in studying his form, only awe. Her gaze traveled across his muscled chest and stomach, lower to his cock that surged from his body, boldly demanding attention, larger than any man had a right to be. Her worry grew.

  He moved toward her, the muscles in his calves bunching, stretching like a cat hunting prey. Each step closer sent her heart beating faster. He paused close, so close that the thick length of his velvety cock brushed her lower belly. Oh God, he was large, too large.

  His fingers gripped her shift, and he slowly lifted the material over her head. Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed hard, resisting the urge to jump back. What the hell had she gotten herself into? She felt as if she stood on the edge of a very high, very dangerous cliff. His steel arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.

  Startled, Elizabeth pressed her hands to his chest, the only thing keeping them from touching completely. But her hands provided a pathetic barrier. She could feel everything…from the sides of his feet as they brushed hers, to the crisp hair on his legs tickling her shins. Everything. But it was his hard cock nudging so forcefully against her lower belly that commanded her full attention. Elizabeth’s courage fled, and for a brief moment, she wasn’t sure she could see the plan through.

  “Why are you so nervous?” he asked.

  Nervous? She was beyond nervous. “I…I’m not.”

  His hand cupped the back of her skull, his fingers gripping her hair. With a jerk, he forced her head back, forced her to meet those steel eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t ever lie to me.”

  She shivered. “I’m just…cold.”

  He didn’t look like he believed her. “You’ll be warm soon enough.” And he didn’t seem in the least bit sympathetic. If anything, he seemed more annoyed, as if he knew she had lied once more. Where had the man gone who had protected her from Mr. Frond and his cohorts?

  Her heart pounded in a way she didn’t understand. It was almost a discomforting feeling. With his muscled arms wrapped tightly around her waist, she felt trapped. His large hands slid up her back, leaving behind a trail of warmth. Almost too warm, the man was like a bloody fireplace.

  “Tell me the truth, are you afraid?” His breath whispered against her ear, sending shivers of delight over her skin. Her mind did not wish for his touch, but her body desperately wanted him.

  “Should I be afraid?”

  He slipped his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “Perhaps.”

  Not exactly the words of comfort she’d been hoping for. Somehow, somewhere, she’d lost control. Blast it all, she had hired him. She would not cower now. If she showed weakness tonight, he would undoubtedly use it against her in the future. A long, complicated future.

  She refused to look away but kept his gaze in a battle of wills. She knew if she backed down now, all would be lost. She would show him that she didn’t fear his commanding presence.

  But as her nerves grew taut and still he didn’t look away, she realized she was very close to losing. Desperate, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his before he had time to truly understand the ramifications of her actions. It was a simple kiss, a kiss of innocence, but hopefully it was enough to catch him off guard.

  With a growl low in his throat, Gideon gripped her upper arms and lifted her away, tearing her lips from his. Her toes merely skimmed the ground as she blinked at him, stunned. Apparently the man didn’t like to lose. His jaw clenched with annoyance, his biceps bulged with the weight of holding her aloft, but he did not tremble with exertion. Was he really rejecting her kiss? Lord, was she that bad? He didn’t look impressed, nor even titillated, he looked…menacing.

  Without warning, he tossed her to the bed. Elizabeth squealed, bouncing once before settling into the soft mattress. She certainly hadn’t expected that. Bemused, she stared up at him in shock, fear, and yes…anticipation.

  “There’s one thing you should know about me,” he said softly, too softly. “I am in charge in the bedroom.”

  Slightly terrified, slightly intrigued, she merely lay there watching him with wide eyes. He moved like a cat. A big panther circling his prey, playing with it before attacking. This was the man she planned to marry. The man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. He moved slowly, purposefully, and almost elegantly for a man his size. But he wasn’t some well-mannered earl. According to Mr. Smith, he was the very devil.

  “We touch when I say. We kiss when I say. Understood?”

  She gave a jerky nod, her fingers curling into the bedspread. A shiver of unease tiptoed across her skin. She had a feeling this was going to hurt. She wasn’t a coward, no, and she knew she had no choice. How long could he last anyway? Certainly not more than a few minutes if she encouraged him. The problem was, how did one encourage a man like Gideon?

  She swallowed over the lump of anxiety clogging her throat and watched him warily as he settled upon the bed and moved, no, more prowled across the mattress until his body hovered over her…until he stared down at her with such force that she wanted to draw back, to sink into the covers, and wrap them around her naked form.

  “Look at me,” he snapped.

  Unwillingly her gaze went to his. Slowly, his fingers trailed up her body, skimming the skin so lightly that it shouldn’t have left much of a mark. It did…so very deep. A mark all the way to her soul. She resisted the urge to frantically rub the spot. She shouldn’t like his touch, she shouldn’t enjoy his kiss, yet she couldn’t deny that she did. She thought she’d understood what could happen between a man and woman, but nothing had prepared her for Gideon.

  Elizabeth li
cked her suddenly dry lips. That amused smirk in his gaze told her he knew exactly how he affected her. Damn him, he enjoyed tormenting her. His arms bent, and slowly he lowered himself atop her, covering her body with his. Elizabeth felt crushed. The bulge of his muscles against her soft, pliant form, the bulge of other things near her thighs…he was warm steel covered in smooth velvet.

  A moan escaped her lips before she could swallow the sound. After being so very cold, he felt so very wonderful. Then he shifted, shoving his knee between her thighs and spreading her legs wide. His soft caresses changed to something more intense, more powerful. Any thoughts of heat and warmth fled. Her heart slammed wildly, panic taunting the edges of her vision so that the room blurred. He was taking control. She averted her gaze, focusing on the flickering flames in the fireplace. Perhaps he would not take long and this would be over and done within minutes. She could only pray he’d be quick.

  Gideon gripped her chin and forced her head back, forced her to meet his eyes. “Do ye want me?”

  “Y-yes,” she said.

  Of course she did.

  Maybe.

  Most likely not, but she didn’t have a choice. It was for the best. Although she didn’t think he’d appreciate her answer and so she kept the truth to herself.

  A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he could read her thoughts, as if he could see into her soul, could sense her fear yet didn’t care. There was not a flicker of compassion in his gaze. Before she could protest and push him away, his lips met hers.

  A hard, devastating kiss and she forgot her reservations, forgot her worry. His velvety tongue stroked her bottom lip and delved into her mouth, drugging her senses. Desire shot through her body, a pulsing pleasure that coursed straight to that spot between her legs. She’d felt attraction before, but never this. Never this heat, this need. Elizabeth whimpered, shifting underneath him in an attempt to get closer…closer to something she didn’t truly understand.

  In one kiss he’d turned her fear into passion. Oh, his mouth was made for sinful pleasure. His body made for love. She had a feeling that once he was inside her, she would never be able to go back to how things had been, that her entire life would change. He tilted his hips, pressing his hard erection to her core. She felt him fully, skin against skin, pulse against pulse. She felt every inch of his body, and she adored the feeling, savored the comfort of another human being. His body called to her, sang a siren’s song, and she marched willingly to her destruction.