Wanton (Regency Scandal 1)

by Carole Mortimer

  Instead, Diana had allowed the visit to proceed. She was not now, nor had she ever been, a coward.

  “You are looking extremely beautiful this morning, Diana.” Northcliffe murmured his satisfaction as he turned to face her.

  She was fully aware of how the blue gown, the same color as her eyes, flattered her complexion and the golden curls gathered up and secured at her crown.

  Diana was aware of it because she had deliberately chosen this new and flattering gown in which to receive him.

  Her chin rose. “As opposed to?” She had no intention of returning the compliment, even if the dark gray superfine and pale gray pantaloons did cling to and emphasize every muscular contour of Northcliffe’s body. His dark and fashionably overlong hair curled slightly against his ears and nape.

  “Ah ah ah, my dear,” he chided softly. “I will not allow you to succeed in annoying me and so derailing me from my purpose in coming here today.”

  Diana tensed. “Which is?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I am sure I made my intentions perfectly clear yesterday evening.”

  Diana snorted softly. “I could only assume that you had imbibed too much of Tabitha’s punch before I arrived, and therefore, the outrageous words you spoke to me could be excused as being nothing more than drunken nonsense.”

  “I never drink punch,” he stated firmly. “Nor, I hope, have I ever been known to speak nonsense, after imbibing alcohol or otherwise.” He straightened. “I am here to make you an offer, Diana.”

  She eyed him warily as she swallowed before answering. “What sort of offer?”

  A mocking smile played about those firm and sculptured lips. “One where I claim you as my mistress and you agree to let me do so.”

  She gasped before instinctively stepping back. “You are either insane or delusional. Or perhaps you merely have the warped desire of wanting to claim what once belonged to your brother?” she challenged scathingly.

  Xavier had wondered that himself, when it became apparent shortly after Raphael’s death that he could not shut thoughts of the beautiful Diana Fitzwilliam out of his mind.

  Indeed, he had fought those obsessive thoughts and desires for her all these months. During the first three of those months, he had even fucked several other beautiful women in an effort to rid himself of his obsession for the lovely Diana.

  Each of those encounters had left Xavier feeling dissatisfied and irritated with himself for having accepted less than what or whom he truly wanted.

  Diana.

  As a consequence, Xavier had remained celibate these past nine months.

  Diana was the only woman in whom Xavier wished to bury his cock. In the softness of her mouth. The heat of her pussy. The tightness of her arse. Xavier wanted to claim her in all those places. To leave his scent on her, mark her as his, so that no other man would so much as dare look at her without knowing the consequence of that action would be to suffer the fullness of the Duke of Northcliffe’s wrath.

  His father had been quick to temper, and although Xavier had taken great pains over the years to control his own emotions—some might say to the point of his not having any—that rigid control completely disappeared when it came to Diana.

  He could not change the past, his own or Diana’s, and as such, he did not intend to condemn her for events that had occurred before Xavier desired her. At seven and thirty, he had lost count of and forgotten most of the names of the women he had bedded during the past twenty years. He would have preferred that one of Diana’s previous lovers had not been his own brother, but all that Xavier could now demand was that she would take no other lover during their own relationship.

  The possessiveness which now held him in its grip told Xavier he would deal most harshly with Diana and that lover if she were to do so.

  Chapter Four

  “Damn it, I need to taste you!” Not willing to countenance further delay, Xavier crossed the room to sweep her into his arms before claiming her mouth with his own.

  Diana had believed Xavier’s lips would be hard and cold, but they were both soft and warm, before becoming firm and demanding as he laid claim to her lips and mouth with an overwhelming possessiveness she was unable to resist.

  Her husband, Percy, had been the gentlest and most considerate of lovers, and they had enjoyed a healthy and frequent intimacy during the first year of their marriage. Their efforts to have a child had introduced a certain strain into the spontaneity of that lovemaking, making it a little less enjoyable during the years before his death. He had also spent many months away in the army, fighting against Napoleon.

  The onset of Northcliffe’s—Xavier’s—sensual exploration of her mouth, his tongue licking along the seam of her lips before thrusting past them to claim the heat beyond, was of a demanding and intense nature Diana had never encountered before.

  She felt as if she were drowning in that heat and intimacy. Claimed. As if she could do no more than respond to and accept Xavier’s demands and the reciprocal passion he incited in her.

  Every part of her felt alive with that passionate arousal. Her skin oversensitive. Her nipples hard and tingling. Her breathing ragged. Between her thighs was hot and becoming increasingly moist. Her knees trembled. Her mind completely blank, and rendering her aware of nothing and no one but the man who held her so tightly against him, she could once again feel the lengthy hardness of his cock pressing into the softness of her abdomen.

  A cock that was so big, Diana doubted her channel—or anywhere else!—would be able to accommodate that girth, let alone the length.

  What on earth…?

  Diana jerked her head back, succeeding in wrenching her mouth free of Xavier’s—Northcliffe, damn it. His name was Northcliffe. The haughty and arrogant Duke of Northcliffe, no less. A man whom many feared and moreover, one who had every reason to despise Diana, but instead now demanded she become his mistress.

  She pushed against his chest for her release, but his arms remained like steel bands about her waist as he continued to mold her curves against his much harder ones. “Release me, please,” she instructed coolly.

  Releasing Diana was the last thing Xavier wished to do. Damn it, he had been so close, this close, to suggesting they retire to her bedchamber so that they might continue their lovemaking in more comfortable surroundings.

  Instead, Diana was demanding he set her free. Although, she had said please, Xavier reminded himself ruefully.

  Yes, perhaps that politeness was enough to persuade him to release her.

  For now.

  His arms dropped from her waist, and he took a step back. Despite the foot of distance now between them, he could still smell the floral tones of her perfume and the musky scent of the arousal he knew throbbed between her wet pussy lips. Proof that, no matter how much Diana might wish to deny it, she was just as aroused by him as he was her.

  He smiled. “I shall join you here for dinner this evening.”

  Her eyes widened at his confidence. “You most certainly will not!”

  Xavier’s smile widened at her outrage. “Then I am happy for you to join me at Northcliffe House. Either way,” he continued as she would have spoken again, “we will be having dinner together this evening so that we can discuss the terms of our arrangement.”

  “There is no arrangement—”

  “Well, no, not yet, because we have not discussed terms,” he conceded dryly. “But I believe our mutual desire just now is enough indication that neither of us is averse to making such an agreement between the two of us.”

  “What could I possibly gain by entering such an arrangement?” she demanded impatiently.

  He shrugged. “Me in your bed every night. Where I will proceed to give you more pleasure than you have ever known before.”

  Diana stared at him. “The level of your arrogance is unbelievable.”

  “Not at all,” he drawled. “I am simply a man who, when he decides to engage in a pastime, ensures he becomes an expert on the subject.”

>   She huffed. “And you are an expert on the pastime of lovemaking?”

  “Yes,” he stated without false modesty. “If you doubt me, I am more than willing to give you another demonstration of how easily you respond to me,” he challenged.

  Diana eyed him incredulously. Did nothing ruffle this man’s absolute, bloody-minded arrogance? Most especially his utter certainty now that she would become his mistress?

  I did respond to him, a voice inside her head reminded. What else is he supposed to think after that, other than that I wish to proceed further with whatever physical pleasure we might find together?

  “That will not be necessary, thank you,” she answered him primly.

  “Pity,” he drawled.

  Diana forced the tension to leave her shoulders as she affected a politely calm expression. “Despite our mutual responses just now, I am afraid you are mistaken in your belief I wish to engage in a relationship with you,” she said evenly. “I— My…affections lie elsewhere.” A part of her heart would always belong to Percy and the years of their marriage before their quest for a child had caused such strain between them.

  Northcliffe’s eyes narrowed to glacial slits. “You have had no gentlemen callers since my brother died in your bed. Nor have you ventured out of the house since then to meet with a lover elsewhere.”

  Diana gasped. “How do you know those things?” And yet she knew, she knew damn it. “You have had me watched and followed!” she accused.

  “Yes.” Xavier acknowledged the fact calmly and without apology. What was the point of apologizing for something he would do again in a heartbeat? “Purely for the continued safety of any man you might have chosen as your next lover,” he insisted as her eyes flashed a deep and dark blue. “I have never believed myself to be a violent man,” he dismissed. “But I am not sure what my reaction might be if I were to learn of your having taken any other man to your bed but me.”

  “Do you feel that same unreasonable jealousy toward my husband and Raphael?” Diana blustered.

  He shrugged. “You were legally married to one, and the other was my now-deceased brother. As I have no intention of confessing my own past liaisons to you, I shall not demand that you do so either. Nor do I consider either of the men you have named, both now deceased, as representing any threat to the two of us being together now. But just so you know,” he continued in a deceptively soft voice. “I do not have a warped desire for any of my brother’s lovers.” His nostrils flared. “You are the first of his mistresses I have wanted, and I assure you it has not been easy for me to accept that Raphael had you first.”

  Xavier had wrestled with that dilemma for some months before acknowledging the past could not be changed, only a future decided upon and forged. A future in which he intended to make love to Diana as often and claim her in as many positions and ways possible. In that way, he would ensure she would remember and want no other lover but him. But also to show her she now belonged to him alone.

  “Had me—!” Angry color flared in Diana’s cheeks. “How very magnanimous of you, Your Grace! God, your arrogance knows no bounds, does it,” she dismissed with disgust as she began to pace the room. “I do not wish to become your mistress, now or in the future,” she stated firmly and clearly as she glared at him. “I do not want to be the mistress of any man.”

  His brows rose. “You intend to hold out for marriage?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped. “I am well aware that…past events prevent me from ever remarrying for love,” she derided. “All I want now is to be left alone to continue to live my life as I have been. Which is unencumbered by the demands of any man.”

  “It appears to be a very lonely existence.”

  Diana knew exactly how her life now looked. How it felt, if she were honest with herself.

  Her parents had died shortly after she married Percy, and Percy was now deceased too. Raphael had died a year later. Then her brother had succumbed to the bullet wound he received at Waterloo. Tabitha Walker was the only friend who had remained loyal to Diana during and after the scandal of Raphael’s death.

  Sometimes, Diana could scream from the loneliness of the life she was now forced to lead.

  But not enough, surely, for her to ever contemplate Northcliffe’s offer she become his mistress?

  As if sensing her uncertainty, he now stepped closer to her. Not quite touching her but close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body like a wall of protection about her.

  Protection?

  How could she possibly continue to think of Northcliffe in that way when he was now the person she most needed protection from?

  Except…he had freely and unreservedly given her his protection at Tabitha’s ball the previous evening by greeting and then dancing with her, when he could so easily have left her to her own devices and the scorn of her peers.

  And the truth was, Diana was so tired, exhausted even, with having to constantly hold her head up high against the gossip and criticism that followed her whenever she ventured to the shops or out for a drive in her carriage. Raphael, she knew, would have been horrified to realize he had caused her such pain and heartache.

  How would he now feel about his older brother’s suggestion—demand!—she become his mistress?

  Knowing the fun-loving Raphael, he would first laugh before he then pointed out that she and Northcliffe were both unmarried and therefore free to indulge in whatever relationship they decided upon. No doubt light-hearted Raphael would advise her to seize the adventure with both hands.

  “What are you thinking about?” Xavier ran a caressing finger along her jawline before using that same finger to lift her face so that Diana was looking directly at him.

  She grimaced. “I do not believe you would wish me to answer that question honestly.”

  His eyes narrowed to silver slits, and his hand dropped back to his side. “Honesty is the only way a relationship between the two of us can work.”

  She tilted her head in challenge. “Even if I was thinking of another man?”

  Xavier drew in a harsh breath before drawing several more in an effort to calm the tumult of emotions churning inside him. “What other man?” he finally demanded harshly.

  She bit her bottom lip, moistening it, before answering him honestly. “Raphael.”

  Xavier’s hands clenched into fists.

  That difference in their ages might mean Xavier and his brother were not always close, but he had always loved his younger brother. Envied him too sometimes, for the life of frivolity he lived and the many friends drawn to him, like bees to honey because of his warmth and happiness.

  He had no doubt that Diana had been drawn to Raphael’s joy of life as so many others were.

  Even so, Xavier would not tolerate her thinking of his brother when the two of them were together.

  “He is the man you claim still holds your affections?” he rasped.

  “That man is dead.”

  “That is not what I asked.”

  Her unflinching gaze met his. “But it is still my answer.”

  Xavier nodded. “In that case, we will dine at my home this evening and see if we cannot replace those old memories with some more pleasurable ones of our own,” he informed her coolly. “Make the necessary arrangements for remaining at Northcliffe House until tomorrow morning.” He gave her a formal bow before turning on his booted heel to leave the room and the house before Diana had recovered enough to protest his demand.

  Diana released a long and shaky breath as she reached out to place a steadying hand on the back of the chaise once she was alone.

  She also trembled, both with apprehension and excitement, at the thought of what “replacing those old memories with more pleasurable ones of our own” might entail.

  Chapter Five

  “I am very pleased you decided to accept my invitation,” Xavier drawled after his butler had shown Diana into the elegant drawing room at Northcliffe House before leaving the two of them alone together.

&
nbsp; Diana gave a splutter of hard and indignant laughter. “I doubt you would have been pleased if I had attempted to do any other.”

  “No.”

  “Nor,” she sobered, “was there any point in my trying to quit London before this evening, as the men you have watching me would no doubt have informed you of my plans the moment I tried to leave.”

  Xavier handed her one of the two glasses of sherry he had poured, and then remained at her side. “Did you contemplate doing so?”

  “Several times.” She gave him the honesty he had demanded. “And dismissed the idea an equal number of times, and for the reason I have already stated.”

  His lips tilted in a smile. “So you have decided to accept the inevitability of our desire for each other, along with our arrangement?”

  Diana could not ignore how much, and in what way, being with Xavier again this evening was affecting her. How could she when every part of her was tingling and aching to again feel the knowing touch of his lips and hands?

  Her lashes lowered. “I cannot deny my physical response to you,” she accepted. “But an affair between the two of us is out of the question.”

  “Because of Raphael?”

  “In part, yes,” she avoided.

  “And the other part?”

  Diana eyed him impatiently. “I loved my husband very much and was completely faithful to him during our marriage.”

  “And he has been dead these past two years.”

  She glared her frustration. “My respect and affection for him are unchanged. Also, no matter what you or others might think, I am simply not the type of woman who leaps into bed with a man simply because he has decided I shall do so.”

  Xavier rubbed his knuckles against his lips to hide the smile that threatened to break loose. Diana’s indignation said she would not appreciate his humor at her expense. “I am not asking you to leap into bed with me. My bed is high from the floor, and you might hurt yourself if you attempted to do so,” he drawled. “Nor am I in the habit of listening to what others might choose to think or say. But I might consider asking you to share my bed instead of demanding it, if that will encourage you to say yes?” he cajoled.