When to Dare a Dishonorable Duke: Romancing the Rake

by Andresen, Tammy

  She attempted to catch her breath as she trailed in his wake. The man was like a storm… or perhaps the ocean. He was a force of nature to be reckoned with. And Cassandra had landed right in his path. That thought frightened her, of course. While he’d eased some of her fears, many lingered. Would she please him? Would he grow angry and resentful?

  But then he also filled her with…excitement. Contentment.

  For the first time in years, she’d be secure in her future. And she’d have a man by her side who effortlessly filled her with pleasure. With those two thoughts in mind, she followed willingly where he led.

  “Shouldn’t we,” she started, licking her lips. “Shouldn’t we wait until after the wedding?”

  He turned his head to look back at her. “We’ll be married soon enough. Tomorrow morning we’ll set out for London to acquire our special license. You’ll have to indulge me for the next few nights, love.”

  While she knew her parents would never have approved, she reasoned that as long as they would be wed soon afterward, there was little harm in yielding to him. Especially after what they’d already done. “But I still need to tell you—”

  He pulled her next to him, wrapping an arm about her waist. “Tell me in the morning.”

  They’d reached her door and he twisted open the knob, guiding her inside as he closed the heavy wood panel and locked it behind him.

  She stopped in the center of the room. “It’s about my fiancé. Or rather about—”

  “I am your fiancé now,” he murmured, so low that the sound vibrated through her. “He will have to accept that.”

  Considering he was a complete fiction, he was likely to be fine with it. “But that’s just it. I haven’t been—”

  He stepped in front of her, their bodies nearly touching as he cupped her chin in his hand. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  The words she’d wanted to say died on her lips. Because, if she were honest, she’d much rather be kissing him than talking. Especially about this. She sensed he’d be unhappy with her deception and she wanted to touch him, feel his mouth pressed against hers.

  And the way he looked at her now, the stark desire in his gaze, scrambled a woman’s senses.

  His eyes were charcoal, they were so dark. His chest broad, his hand firm at her back. And when he dropped his chin closer, her own breath stopped for a second, then came out in a rush, mingling with his.

  He captured her lips with his in a firm kiss that washed the last of her reason away. She held onto his biceps, clinging to him, needing his strength to hold her up.

  Damian understood, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her to his chest. Cassandra melted into him. There was no other word for it. She felt as though he reshaped her to fit exactly against him. Every line of her body molded into his much harder frame until they were joined together from mouth to hip.

  “Damian,” she gasped, pulling away for a moment. “This is all so…” Several words came to mind. Quick, amazing, frightening.

  “Intoxicating,” he answered, capturing her mouth again.

  That was a rather good word.

  He deepened the kiss, working free several of the buttons at the front of her dress. His hands on her body only made her hotter and she found herself working his shirt free by first untying his cravat.

  He shrugged off his coat, letting it fall to the floor and then began tugging at the sleeves of her dress. One by one, their garments fell away, leaving a trail to the bed until he was stripped to his breeches and her to her chemise.

  He traced every curve from her shoulders to her knees and back again, down her front and up her back until she hummed from the desire pulsing through her. Then he cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumb in a light touch that sent pleasure pulsing straight to her core.

  Every part of her throbbed with need. How had she never known it could feel like this? “Damian,” his name came out in a moan. “That is so wonderful.” She stopped as he kissed her again. “I had no idea.” Then another pause for kissing. “Do we really get to do this all the time?”

  That made him laugh and he stopped kissing her, leaning away. “Yes, love. All the time.”

  “Oh,” was all she could reply before his lips captured hers again and his hand slid down her body, gathering the fabric of her chemise so that he could pull it up her body. Even the touch of the chemise skimming her skin made her shiver and she grabbed his bare biceps, digging her fingers into his muscles to try keep from spinning out of control.

  She didn’t even realize they were moving backwards until her legs hit the edge of the bed. He lifted the sheer fabric over her head and sent it sailing through the air.

  They fell back onto the bed a tangle of limbs as their mouths joined again. When he slid his fingers between her legs, brushing her slick folds, her body spasmed and her hips pressed into his hand.

  “We should make this last longer,” he said as he kissed a trail down her neck.

  “I’ve waited my entire life for this,” she murmured. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  He growled out a deep rumble as his hand disappeared. She protested a high-pitched noise of dissent but then she realized he was only removing his breeches.

  Cassandra pushed up on her elbows to watch and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His gaze burned into hers even as he dropped his trousers.

  Her breath caught. He was…magnificent. Lean muscle tapered down to narrow hips and his manhood…her eyes widened. She’d never imagined one might be so…large. She pushed up and reached out her hand, running her finger over the tip.

  “Cassandra,” he said but she felt his shiver.

  “Does it work for men the way it did for me last night?” She licked her lips again. “Can I kiss you like you did me?”

  He closed his eyes. “Yes.” Then he opened them again. “But not tonight. I’ll never last. I want you too much.”

  She gave a nod. “But you’ll teach me.”

  “Yes.” He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together as he gently pushed her back on the bed.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Her legs automatically opened for him sliding around his hips as the tip of his manhood pressed into her opening.

  Heat, pleasure, and the slightest bit of fear mingled through her as she slid her arms about his neck. But as he moved slowly inside her, that fear was replaced with sheer pleasure. And by the time he was fully seated inside her, she knew she belonged in this man’s arms.

  * * *

  Damian gathered her close, kissing along her neck as he slowly pulled out and then pushed back in. Her body wrapped about his as they pressed chest to chest, belly to belly.

  She felt like silk and heat and…home.

  He belonged here. With her.

  He closed his eyes attempting to enjoy the physical pleasure she brought while ignoring the emotion. This was a match of convenience for her and need for him. Feelings were not welcome. But as he moved inside her, quickening the pace and her body moved with his, her breath gasping in his ear, he couldn’t seem to help it.

  Emotion was rising like the tide inside him.

  And when she moaned out her pleasure, he tightened in response, picking up the pace. On and on they climbed, moving together like one until finally, her pleasure broke. Cassandra cried out as her body clamped around him, pulling his own finish from deep inside.

  Never in all his life had he had such a perfect union.

  He held her close still, wishing to savor the moment for as long as possible as he kissed her chest, her neck, her face.

  She was right. It was going to be a pleasure to be married and to share a bed with this woman every night.

  He slid to the side, pulling her body to his. She snuggled down into his chest as he reached out a hand and released the ties of several of the bed curtains, cloaking them in darkness. Dinner was sure to arrive soon, and he didn’t want to be seen or disturbed.

  T
hey passed the night in a cocoon of warmth, making love again in the wee hours of the morning before Cassandra fell back to sleep.

  Then he slipped out of the bed and dressed, picking his clothes from the piles scattered along the floor.

  He needed to move and think.

  He was both satiated and restless.

  He should have known bedding her would create a bond. But he wasn’t prepared for the feelings that were filling him. What if she hurt him? Not physically, of course.

  He made his way down the hall and into the breakfast room.

  With Amelia, the worst wounds had been the emotional ones. The betrayal. The heartache. He hadn’t planned to open himself up to those again. And here he was, already filled with a tenderness that made him vulnerable. It was less than ideal.

  “Your Grace,” a deep voice rumbled from next to a platter of poached eggs.

  Damian’s head snapped up to see that Balstead had arrived at home. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It was Balstead’s house. “Good morning.”

  Balstead gave him a long look. “You look…disheveled.”

  Damian glanced down at his wrinkled clothing. “Long night.”

  “Drinking?” Balstead turned toward him crossing his arms over his chest.

  Damian straightened, one eyebrow rising. “That’s what the party is supposed to be about, is it not?”

  Balstead grimaced, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “As you can see, there isn’t much of a party.”

  “I’d noticed a lack of guests.” He crossed over to the buffet grabbing a plate. “Did you find the other men?”

  “I found them,” Balstead answered. “In the small village of Seabridge Gate. The Duke of Rathmore returned with me, but I don’t think he’s up for much debauchery.”

  “Why is that?” Damian heaped eggs onto his plate, then added a rasher of bacon and lightly toasted bread, not sure what else to do.

  “He’s about to get married,” Balstead said. “And I am too.”

  He quickly set his plate on the buffet, the loud thunk of it filling the room. “Congratulations.” He picked the plate up again and then turned toward the other man. “I’ve also decided to marry.”

  One of Balstead’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Whom?”

  Damian set the plate aside filling his lungs with air to calm the nerves that had been plaguing him all morning. “Cassandra.”

  Balstead paused for a moment and then his shoulders slumped. “What a relief.”

  Some of Damian’s anxiety lessened too and stretching his neck, he started for the table. “I’m glad you think so.” He shook his head. “It’s a bit sudden but—”

  Balstead waved his hand. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

  He dug into his plate, taking several bites of his eggs. “I’m just curious. Where did you stash all the lightskirts?”

  Balstead turned toward him. “I beg your pardon?”

  He stopped. Another bite of eggs halfway to his mouth. “The lightskirts. For the party.”

  Balstead’s eyebrows drew together. “Didn’t Cassandra explain?”

  “Explain what?” he asked, apprehension trickling down his spine as he straightened up in his chair.

  Balstead shook his head. “There was never a party. I invited you to here to meet Cassandra.”

  His fork fell from his hand, food spattering over the table as the clanking filled the room, echoing off the walls. “But she’s already engaged. Or she was…before…”

  The words clogged in his throat. She’d lied. That much was clear.

  Pain lanced through his chest. No wonder he’d been so worried last night. She’d managed to betray him already. He should have never allowed this to happen. Rising, he started for the door. He needed to hear an explanation from her lips. Right now.

  Chapter Ten

  Cassandra woke the next morning stretching with a contentment she’d never experienced. Not only had pleasure sapped her of every ounce of energy but sleeping next to Damian had been…perfection.

  She’d been cradled in the crook of his arm pressed to the masculine lines of his body. For the first time in a very long time, she’d been safe. Her worries had melted away.

  Not only about her future but also her past. While Cassandra understood she wasn’t living the life her mother had intended she could reconcile that as Damian’s wife she was free to make their marriage…happy. Fulfilled.

  She stretched her hand, reaching out to find the bed empty.

  Unease made her spread her fingers wide as she searched the room. He wasn’t there and his clothes were gone. Why had he left?

  Rising, she wrapped herself in a dressing gown and began to gather her clothes, which had been discarded onto the floor the night before. She picked up her gown, finding it wrinkled and she began to smooth it, checking the buttons for damage before adding it to the neat pile she’d started.

  He’d been gentle but one was loose, and out of habit, she reached for her sewing kit. Keeping her fingers busy would help ease the worry that had hit her with his unexpected disappearance.

  Why should she be concerned? They’d signed a contract and sealed it with a wonderful night. The best in her life. But somehow, she’d expected to find him in her bed still, holding her close and kissing the top of her head.

  She shifted on her feet, smoothing the pile of clothes she’d just created. Her fears started to rise to the surface. She’d done something wrong and sinful. She’d find herself alone with no money and no prospects.

  She drew in a steadying breath trying to calm her fears when her door banged open.

  Damian stood in the doorway, staring at her, his grey eyes glittering dark and dangerous.

  Her own breath stalled as she realized she was now clutching the clothes to her front. Carefully she set them down. “There you are.”

  “Here I am,” he rumbled, his voice low and deep. He pulled up straighter, peering down at her with a dark gaze. The look was not passionate, however, there was something far colder in those dark depths.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her breath catching as she stood.

  He pointed a finger. “You lied to me.”

  Her hands pressed down her skirt. A lump of dread formed in her throat. Those four words hung between them as her mouth fell open. She had. “Damian.”

  He sliced his hand through the air. “There was no fiancé.”

  “No.” She gulped down a lump. “But—”

  “You deliberately manipulated me.”

  “No!” She stepped closer to him, holding her hands out in front of her. “I swear I didn’t.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Damian that he’d assured her being married to a duke would not result in constant explanation. “I…” She squeezed the dress, worry coiling low in her belly, threatening to strike. Would they even marry now? “I was trying to protect myself.”

  “Protect yourself?” He moved closer. “From what?”

  “You.” She nibbled at her lip. “Your interest was obvious and I was trying to keep from…” Her words died away as understanding dawned in his eyes.

  “But you continued to lie.”

  She shook her head. “I tried to explain yesterday as we signed the contract.”

  His mouth thinned and she was about to try to explain again when a shadow stepped behind him.

  “You signed a contract?”

  Raithe. First relief and then shame made her shoulders hunch. He’d know what she’d done. Tears sprung to her eyes.

  “We did,” Damian said. “That was before I knew I was being manipulated.”

  Raithe grimaced as he looked over at her. “You told him you were already engaged?”

  She nibbled her lip. That was the least of her sins. “Yes. You weren’t here. You know I’m no good at this sort of thing.”

  “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He shook his head. “But the deceit was mine. I tried to trick several men into
coming here, though, to be fair, you weren’t one of them.”

  Damian’s head snapped back. “Is that supposed to matter?”

  “It does to me,” Balstead fired back. “I knew you didn’t have the temperament for making a match. That’s why I didn’t ask you.”

  Damian smacked his hand on the table next to him. “My temperament is of less concern than your lies.”

  Raithe shrugged and Cassandra hugged herself around her chest. Raithe’s eyes flicked to her before they returned to the duke. “What is of the greatest concern to me is the contract you signed.”

  Damian made a growling sound deep in his throat and the noise spurred her into action. She crossed the room, standing between the two of them. “Raithe,” she said, holding up a hand for him to stop before she turned to Damian. She drew in a steadying breath. “You know I did what I did last night on the faith that we’d be wed.” If he broke his word, she’d be ruined forever. There would be no sum of money, no contract that awarded her a house. She’d have lost her morality and her future.

  He said nothing as his arms crossed, his chin pulling back. She dropped her head, looked at the floor, no longer able to meet his eye. “But even more than I’ll hate myself for the shame, I can’t stand the idea of another husband who looks at me with resentment in his eyes. And it shines in your eyes now. We’ll burn the contract if that’s what you want to do.”

  She’d not have another marriage like that again.

  * * *

  Those words made the air rush from Damian’s chest and with it, much of the resentment. Yes, he’d been lied to and manipulated, two things he couldn’t abide. But he also recognized several truths about Cassandra. And himself. He’d likely come on very strong and she was a woman without protection.

  And she’d offered him an out. No yelling, no anger. Only worry clouded her beautiful face. Though he hated that she’d lied, and he was angry still, it didn’t change the fact that he wanted her or that she suited him in many ways.

  Perhaps this deception was for the best. Help him to separate his feelings from their arrangement. He’d go into this like any other bargain and he’d leave that pesky tenderness behind.