But he needed to see the rest of her. He methodically removed all of her undergarments, then set her on the bed. She lay before him like the perfect gift. The curls at the apex of her thighs weren’t as bright as the ones on her head, but they were red and drew his attention away from her ivory skin. And then there were her breasts. Perfectly sized and pouty, with pert pink tips that beckoned his lips. But he wanted to take his time and touch her everywhere. He cupped both of her breasts gently, and she arched against his hands, pressing her hardened nipples into his palms.
She was the most alluring and beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
He leaned forward and kissed her throat, then down to her collarbone, then to the rise of her breasts. He kept a hand on one while he tasted the other. She was so sweet.
His hands continued to explore her breasts while he kissed her thoroughly. He reached down and moved a hand up her leg, her skin smooth and soft beneath his palm. His fingers traced behind her knee to the sensitive flesh of her thighs. When he brushed across the juncture of her legs, she released a seductive sound of desire. His own need poured through his veins and settled heavily in his groin.
He moved through her nether curls and found her flesh hot and slick with her need. She trembled when his fingers moved against her. She whimpered softly. He continued his exploration.
He slipped one finger inside her, and slowly he began his rhythm. He found the nub beneath her folds and stroked across it. Her pleas became erratic. She arched toward him. She was intoxicating—her body, her touch, her smell. All of her surrounded him, and he wanted this moment, this night, to last forever.
Closer and closer he brought her to the edge, then he would pull back. He loved watching the pleasure play out on her expressive face. She was, undoubtedly, the most passionate woman he’d ever touched. He needed to be inside her. His own desire was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, so he kissed her deeply.
His finger dipped in again as he flicked across her folds. She tightened around his finger with the rhythm of her release. “Yes, Merritt,” she whispered. Her head pressed into the pillow behind her. “Yes.”
Quickly he guided himself into her before her climax subsided. Oh God, she felt good. Hot and tight and so slick. Her climax started again, and her walls squeezed around his shaft as he increased the depth of his thrusts. And then as his own release rocked through his body, he emitted a primal moan and collapsed atop her.
…
Iris listened to Merritt’s even breathing as he lay next to her in her bed. She could still feel the effects of their lovemaking on her body. Her flesh seemed to quiver every time she closed her eyes and remembered the sensations of their coupling.
She had wanted to say no to him today. More than that, though, she’d wanted him, craved the pleasure he could give her, despite knowing that indulging in her desires would likely lead only to hurt. Yet, when he’d told her how much he ached for her, how he’d only pushed her away in the past because of how much he desired her, she hadn’t been able to think straight. Her only coherent thought had been that he wanted her. And that had been enough.
She wasn’t so foolish to believe that after this she would be able to go back to her life as it was before she’d met him. But this… His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his warm breath on her bare neck. Lying here with him only made her think of what it would be like to live like this every day. To wake up in the arms of a man one loved.
It seemed ridiculous that she could already know she loved him. She barely knew him. Still, something powerful had happened between them these last few days. Something she’d never experienced before. So, she’d do her best to brace herself for the pain that was certain to come when he walked out of her life, leaving her with only the memories of their time together.
Iris must have dozed off because now that she opened her eyes she could see light peeping at the edges of the closed curtains. Merritt still lay behind her, and he snuggled closer, his warmth and strength molded to her back.
“I have thoroughly ruined you,” he said. His breath scorched her neck and filled her with desire.
“Yes, I am thoroughly ruined.” He’d most assuredly ruined her for any other men. No one would ever compare to Merritt.
“I shall, of course, do the right thing,” he said.
Her heart stuttered. But she said nothing, merely waited for him to ask the question she so hoped was coming next.
“Even though I wasn’t raised a titled gentleman,” he said, “I do know that if you steal a lady’s virtue, you offer her marriage.”
Still she said nothing.
“Iris?” he asked gently.
She wanted to get up, to leave the bed and run from the room, but she stayed motionless.
“Iris, I asked you a question.” He rolled her onto her back so they could see one another.
“You didn’t actually ask me anything. You simply made a statement,” she said.
“I took advantage of you,” he said. “We should marry.”
“For only that reason?” she asked, then regretted it the moment the question left her lips.
“No other reason would matter,” he said. “Your reputation has been tarnished, and I am a man of honor.”
She grabbed the coverlet and pulled it to her chest as she sat upright. “You are demanding that I marry you?”
“It is the sensible thing to do.”
“I care not if it is sensible. Those are not compelling reasons to marry.”
“You wish me to recite a love poem? I thought you more practical than this, Iris.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable,” she snapped.
He shook his head, confusion clear on his face. “I do not understand. I thought this was how it was done.”
“Marriage proposals? Perhaps for some, but it is not what I am looking for.”
“You cannot afford to be so selective.”
Anger surged through her, and she came to her feet, taking the coverlet with her as she went. “How dare you! Simply because I am unmarried with no prospects does not mean I cannot still say no to a proposal I deem unworthy.”
“That is not what I meant,” he said, his voice calm again. “Iris, someone recognized you the other night at the theater. I received a letter demanding funds or they will expose your secret.”
“What?”
“Marriage will protect you. Protect your reputation from any rumors or would-be scandals. I can protect you.”
“Wait.” She sorted through all his words and actions since he’d arrived that evening, and it was as if he’d pulled a chair out from under her. She grabbed the back of one now to steady herself. “You did this on purpose. You came here to seduce me so that you could compromise me and force me into marriage.”
“It is not force, my dear. Practicality, perhaps,” he said.
“Practical? Why not simply come here with the proposal in hand?”
“You would have said no had I come in and told you I was being blackmailed and should marry you to salvage your reputation. You cannot tell me that isn’t true,” he said. “Can you?” He rose from the bed and walked to her.
She refused to acknowledge his nakedness so she looked elsewhere. She exhaled slowly. “It matters not what I would have said, because you simply decided to come over here and deceive me.”
“Iris, you are being ridiculous. Would it be so bad to be married to me?” He pulled her to him. “We desire one another, last night proved that. And we are good together. Marriages have been built on far less.”
“Perhaps, but my marriage will not be.”
“You would risk ruination rather than marry someone who…”
“Doesn’t love me? Yes, I would.” Especially when it was so obvious that he didn’t. She’d been so afraid to love someone and then lose that person that she’d missed the real heartache—unrequited love. She’d never considered
how much it could hurt to lose someone who hadn’t died. How devastating it would be to know that she simply wasn’t enough for him. She pulled free from his grip. “Now, if you will kindly dress and leave.”
“We are not finished with this discussion.”
“We are. I have said no, and I meant no.” With that, she left the room. She wrapped herself in the coverlet and closed herself in her dressing chamber. Then she slid down it onto the floor in a heap of tears, with his scent still wrapped around her.
Chapter Eleven
It had been two days since he’d first proposed to Iris. Three days since the article on Iris’s band of merry crime fighters had run in the Daily Scandal. An editor from the Times had paid him a visit yesterday, requesting to reprint the article and run it in their paper. Merritt had waited a long time for that sort of recognition, yet the success felt oddly empty.
Though he’d never used anyone’s name in the article, it still posed a threat he hadn’t accounted for when it had gone to press. Knowing that more of London would be reading about the anonymous escapades of Iris and her friends, he felt even more strongly about convincing her to marry him. Now more than ever she needed his protection. Not only that, but the article running in the Times meant that there was a greater chance that Iris would see it.
Merritt stood in Iris’s foyer, waiting to see if she would deign to see him, hating the way his stomach churned. This was how he had felt waiting to be admitted into the drawing room of Lydia’s country home. Nervous. Doubtful. Unworthy.
When Lydia had rejected his offer, he had sworn he would never again give a member of the gentry that much power over him. And he hadn’t—he’d managed to keep that promise to himself for nearly a decade.
Until Iris.
And, indeed, Iris had not put him in this position.
If anyone was in the wrong, it was he.
And yet, he could not help resenting her for not accepting his proposal the first time he’d issued it. She simply had to see reason on this matter.
When her butler came and led him to her parlor, announcing that she had agreed to see him, he had hopes that perhaps she had come around Until, that was, Merritt stepped into the room and saw the expression on her face. Her brow was knitted in a disagreeable frown. Her lips were pursed into a scowl, as though she had just bitten into something extremely unpleasant.
She stood, motionless, in front of the settee.
“I believe we discussed everything already,” Iris said.
He’d come to convince her to marry him. He would not beg, but he also didn’t want to see her ruined. She was a delightful creature when she wasn’t frowning at him. Or being stubborn. Or shortsighted. And he simply wouldn’t stand by while her reputation was dragged through the mud. “Perhaps, but I do wish you’d reconsider.”
“Is that all you wanted to say?” Anger flashed in her eyes and her skin pinkened.
He wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms, but he didn’t dare. Physical affection would not persuade her, he knew that now. “No, I wanted to let you know that I’ve responded to the blackmailer, and I’ll be meeting him or her later this afternoon to pay the requested funds.”
She walked away from the seating area to stand by the fireplace. “I shall pay,” she said, her words cold. He’d done this to her. He’d selfishly wanted her and seduced her, believing he could salvage the situation. “That is not necessary.” He stepped closer to her. “I will pay.”
“This is my mess, my ruination.” She shifted to the window, turned her back on him, effectively retreating from him. “I should pay.”
“I won’t argue this with you. I will pay the monies and manage the blackmail situation. This entire issue is my doing. I should never have agreed to the wager and most assuredly not agreed to you posing as a gentleman.”
She turned to face him, her expression blazing. “You would not have been able to stop me. I had made up my mind.”
He exhaled. “Iris, it would be so much simpler if you would just agree to marry me. I would see to your every need.”
“But you would never love me.” Her chin elevated, and her eyes flashed. She embodied defiance in that moment, and he thought she’d never looked more beautiful. But he was not so foolish to tell her so.
Her green eyes met his, and he wanted to correct her, wanted to tell her that he hoped someday he’d be able to love her, but he didn’t dare. He could never make such a promise. He didn’t want to hurt her; she was far too precious for that. But he did not believe in the notion of romantic love. Passion and lust, yes, but romantic love was fleeting and therefore not real.
Those things were lies that men used to manipulate young ladies of gentle breeding. He had built a career out of exposing those lies for what they were. More than that, he’d built his own moral code on it. He would not lie now. Not even for Iris.
“Our union would be one of mutual respect and passion and camaraderie,” he said. “That should prove enough.”
Her lips pursed, and she shook her head.
“What shall you do if rumors spread?” he asked.
“It wouldn’t be a rumor, now would it? It is true, after all. It is what I deserve, Merritt. I sought you out in hopes of straightening out my brother, and all I did was end up behaving the wanton.” She laughed a humorless laugh. “No, I became a wanton. I am ruined. I am not too proud to admit that,” she said with a wry smile. “If there is a scandal, I shall weather it.”
“Very well, but it doesn’t change the situation.”
Her delicate shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It matters not. My brother is doing what he wishes in life, paying no mind to anything I say. And I certainly have no business giving anyone advice on propriety now.”
“If your reputation is tarnished, will it not affect your own future in Society? Any affiliations you might have?”
Her mouthed opened slightly, and her breath caught, as if she hadn’t even considered that until this very moment. “I’m not certain. I have funds saved. I don’t believe Jasper would turn me out onto the streets.” She straightened her shoulders. “I shall endure this, as I have everything else in life. I mean to stay in London only until Jasper is married, and then I shall travel.”
“I do not wish to end our alliance,” he said gently. “I do consider you a friend, Iris. And you’ve been truly kind to my sister.”
“Despite her brief foray into Society, I believe your sister shall be all right. She has grown so much.” Her smile changed from something forced to something wistful. “I suspect she shall make a great match.”
“Iris,” he said.
She shook her head. “Merritt, I am a sinking ship, as it were.” Anger marked each word. “You and Lucy would be better off distancing yourselves from me so that my impending scandal won’t tarnish either of you. For Lucy’s sake.”
She was bold and defiant, but he could see the fear simmering beneath all her bluster. He would not insult her and offer sympathy—she’d see it as nothing more than pity. She was a stubborn one, he’d give her that. Foolish, but oh so stubborn. This wasn’t the end of this discussion, but he’d leave it alone for now.
“You will let me know if you reconsider?” he asked.
“Good-bye, Merritt.” She turned away from him, then, facing the window, and he was forced to walk away.
Merritt had set up a meeting with the blackmailer to hand over the demanded funds. He figured one of two things would happen: either the blackmailer himself would be foolish enough to come, thus revealing his identity, or he’d send a proxy that Merritt would follow. Either way, he was determined to uncover the man’s identity.
Merritt was willing to pay to protect Iris’s reputation, but he also needed to know who this blackguard was so that he could end this now. He wouldn’t stand for continued requests for money to keep a secret that might not matter after Iris was safely his wife. Of course, she’d thus far refused to see reason and agree to marry him.
She wanted love. He wouldn’t
promise that. Couldn’t promise that. He’d tried love, once upon a time. He’d given his heart away and proposed, and he’d been rejected. Cruelly so. All because he had been a merchant’s son. He hadn’t yet become earl at the time and no one knew that was even a possibility. And his heart’s desire had cried false tears, saying that she loved him, too, but that she had to marry another.
As it was, he stood on the corner of the busy street and the alley where he’d hidden the envelope. He was determined to see whoever came to pick up the money. At the approximate time, a boy with tattered clothes and dirt-smudged skin crept in and went immediately to the designated spot.
Merritt waited a couple of minutes until the boy was nearly out of sight before he moved to follow. They wound through the back streets, and then the boy stopped and gave out a loud whistle. A man stepped out of a door and into the alleyway.
Damnation!
It was Nickerson. Iris’s own brother.
Merritt waited until Jasper handed the boy some coins and sent him off before he approached.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” Merritt asked.
Jasper turned to face him, his eyes wide with fear. “What do you mean?”
“You would risk your own sister’s reputation? Blackmail me?” Merritt closed the distance between them and slammed Jasper up against the side of the building. “She’s your sister!”
“I knew you would pay.”
“Do you not realize everything she’s done for you? All the sacrifices she’s made?” Anger surged through Merritt, and he knew if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose control. If he hurt Jasper, Iris would never forgive him. Still, he kept his elbow up against Jasper’s throat, holding him in place.
“I wouldn’t have actually told anyone. I do love her.” He winced. “She did this to herself, though. Anyone else could have recognized her. What was she doing dressing as a man in the first place?”
“That is none of your concern.” Merritt pulled his arm back and punched Jasper right in the face.
Jasper reached up and cupped his face, howling in pain. “You broke my nose, you son of bitch,” he whined.
The Scoundrel and the Lady (Lords of Vice) Page 13