Notorious Deception

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Notorious Deception Page 12

by Adrienne Basso


  After putting on her nightgown, Diana sat on the edge of the bed, brushing out her hair. The rhythmic stroking helped ease the tension in her head, and Diana laid back against the covers. Perhaps once she was home at Snowshill Manor she would be able to forget about Derek and the unsettling effect he had on her. Grimacing with honesty, she forced herself to admit doing so was unlikely.

  Although the earl aptly demonstrated his desire for her, and she had unwittingly encouraged him, Diana doubted she was the kind of female he would be interested in for any length of time. She remembered well his rather antiquated requirements for a wife. And she did not fill his requirements—not that she would ever be interested in becoming his wife. Being married to one Earl of Harrowby was enough to last a lifetime. Wasn’t it?

  Feeling confused and unhappy, Diana sank into the soft mattress and pulled up the covers. Despite her sadness, she was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

  A sharp knock woke Diana abruptly. Alarmed, she sat up quickly, thinking she somehow had overslept. She looked through the partially opened shutters into the blackness of the night and realized it was not yet morning. The room was in near darkness, the faint glow of the almost extinguished candle casting unreal shadows about the room. For a moment Diana thought she might have been dreaming, but there came a second, louder knock.

  Diana rose from the bed and walked barefoot across the cold, hardwood floor. She hesitated briefly in front of her chamber door. The earl’s voice boomed loudly in the quiet night.

  “’Tis me, Diana. Pray, open the door.”

  Diana never thought to object, but simply turned the key in the lock and swung the heavy oak door open to admit the earl.

  He stood in the doorway, his left shoulder braced nonchalantly against the doorjamb. He had removed his coat and it was carelessly slung over his right shoulder. His silver waistcoat was unbuttoned and his snowy-white cravat was untied, dangling limply around his neck. His plain ivory shirt was open at the throat, and Diana could see a tiny curl of chest hair peeking up from the exposed area. Their eyes met, and Derek flashed her a positively wicked grin. Diana swallowed hard.

  “Did I wake you?” Derek asked lazily from his slouch. Without waiting for her response, he straightened up and strode past her into the room.

  Without glancing at her, Derek walked to the chair in the corner of the chamber and flung his coat across it. He then removed his waistcoat and wilted cravat and began calmly undoing the shirt studs at his wrists.

  “Do close the door, Diana,” he said conversationally, his back toward her. “I believe I am beginning to feel a draft.”

  Diana stood in the same spot, her feet rooted to the floor, her hand tightly clutching the latch of the open bedchamber door.

  “What precisely are you doing, Derek?” Diana whispered when she at last found her voice.

  He twirled around to face her, and for a long moment he simply stared at her. “I should think it is obvious,” he announced with amusement. “I am getting undressed.”

  Diana felt a prickle of fear when she heard the slight slurring in his voice. “You’re drunk,” she accused in a horrified whispered.

  “A bit foxed perhaps, madam,” he replied, his tone indicating how insulted he was by her remark. “I can assure you, however, I am not completely under the hatches.”

  Diana continued to stand by the open door, wondering what to do. Whenever Giles had become drunk, he used to fly into the most terrible rages. Dubiously, she eyed Derek, uncertain of his mood. He appeared congenial enough. Perhaps he was merely confused about where his bedchamber was located.

  She wiped her damp palms against the soft flannel of her nightgown and faced the earl bravely. “Derek,” she said in a gentle voice, “I fear you are a trifle confused tonight. This is my bedchamber.”

  Derek gave an exaggerated sigh and ran his hand through his rumpled hair. Crossing the room rapidly, he stopped when he reached her side. He grinned crookedly down at her, and Diana’s heart starting pounding as she looked up into his uncommonly handsome face.

  “I believe, Diana, you are, in truth, the one who is confused,” Derek said with a wicked grin. “You see, my dear, this also happens to be my bedchamber.”

  With that said, he reached out a powerful arm and swung the chamber door closed with a resounding bang.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I cannot possibly share a bedchamber with you!” Diana exclaimed.

  Derek raised an eyebrow, but gave no response. He casually strolled back to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down. Crossing his ankle over his knee, he began to tug laboriously at his left boot. When he was unsuccessful in dislodging it, he raised his head. “Would you mind?” he asked, stretching out his leg toward her.

  It took every ounce of Diana’s self-control not to shout from the depths of her constricted lungs. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do mind,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  Derek shrugged and went back to tugging on his boot. At last it gave way and he waved the black Hessian triumphantly, before dropping it carelessly to the floor and focusing his attention on its mate. The sound of the second boot hitting the floor catapulted Diana into action.

  She strode purposefully across the room to confront Derek. He was still seated and she took full advantage of the rare opportunity to tower above him. She planted her legs and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring menacingly at him.

  “Derek, we simply cannot share a bedchamber,” Diana snapped, her tone unyielding.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Why not?” Diana sputtered, clearly stunned by his simple question. “Because it just isn’t proper. That is why not.”

  Derek cocked his head and gave her boyish grin, which infuriated her.

  “You will leave this room at once,” she commanded, stomping her foot in frustration.

  His grin quickly faded. He too stood up, scowling down at her. “I am sorry you find my company so distasteful, Diana,” he told her in a clipped voice. “This is, in case you haven’t noticed, a very small establishment, and I was able to secure only this one room tonight.”

  “Fine,” she snapped. “You may stay here. I’ll go outside and sleep in the coach.”

  She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. “Stop being so bloody ridiculous, Diana,” he yelled. “You’re acting like a spoiled child.”

  Her back stiffened, and she twisted free of his grasp and moved beyond his reach. But he moved to her side again.

  “We cannot share this chamber. I cannot possibly sleep in the same room with you,” she whispered, her voice clouded with emotion. “And if you have to ask me why I cannot do so, you do not deserve to know the answer.”

  Derek watched the shadow of pain cross her expressive face and he felt like an utter cad. He shook his head briskly, trying to clear his mind from the effects of the wine he had consumed. Pushing his own bewilderment and hurt at her distant behavior of the last few days aside, he focused instead on her suffering.

  “You must know I would never harm you, Diana,” he said softly. “I would give my very life to keep you safe.”

  The tenderness in his voice was her undoing. She gazed up at him, saw the genuine concern in his expressive blue eyes, and wilted inside. Choking back a sob, Diana turned to Derek in her misery, burying her face in his broad shoulder. Her hands tightly clutched the front of his half-open shirt, and she sobbed loudly, finally allowing the tension and uncertainty of the past week to claim her.

  Understanding only that she needed his comfort, Derek enfolded her in his arms. Pulling Diana close against his heart, he gently kneaded her shoulders through the shimmering hair hanging freely down her back.

  After a moment she became quiet, and Derek became acutely aware of every curve of her body. Her breasts were pressing against his chest and he could feel her nipples through the soft material of her nightgown. His pulse was racing and he felt his manhood stiffen in response to her proximity. Muttering an oath under his breath, he
loosened his hold on her slightly and shifted his feet backward. He knew he had to pull away from her, as erotic images of her invaded his mind, playing havoc with his already aroused senses.

  Diana was also conscious of the change in his body, and she could feel the heat against her own skin where their bodies touched. She dropped her arms and backed away from him. Yet, unable to stop herself, Diana stared in rapt fascination at Derek’s naked chest behind his unbuttoned shirt. It was so broad and muscular, the dark, curling hair glistening in the moonlit room. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

  They stood there for several long moments until Derek could no longer bear not touching her. He captured her chin in his hand and ran his fingertips lightly along her jaw line. When she lifted her face, his mouth covered hers. His kiss was filled with raw emotion. He felt her tremble and heard her deep throaty moan.

  Her response fired his passions and his hands roamed freely down her luscious curves in a sensuous, searching caress. His tongue probed the sweetness of her mouth, seeking and then finding her tongue.

  Derek’s hand cupped her breast lovingly, his thumb rubbing insistently through the fabric until her nipple grew taut and hard. She shivered with delight, giving herself over to the blinding pleasure he was creating with an abandonment that shocked and dismayed her. As his kiss deepened, Diana became frightened, and with a small cry of anguish, she turned away from Derek’s kisses and stiffened in his arms.

  Mutely she stared up at him. She was breathless and shaken. Her legs felt weak and her heart was pounding. All she could think of was how wonderful it felt when he kissed and stroked her body.

  As she stared into Derek’s intense blue eyes, Diana realized she could no longer deny the love she felt for him. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She shuddered in fear of the feelings he could so quickly arouse in her. She trembled with uncertainty over the intense passion between them—passion she did not fully understand and was helpless to control.

  Derek lifted his hand and gently brushed against her cheek, his fingers catching her tear. “Why do you cry, Diana?”

  She refused to answer; instead she turned her face into his hand, rubbing back and forth against the strength of his fingers. She attempted to reconcile the torment of her heart and spirit, but his touch was distracting. How she reveled in his touch! The strength and roughness of his hands contrasted sharply with the softness of his caress. She felt her heart turn wildly in her breast, and she could not stop herself from pressing a hot, probing kiss on his palm.

  A jolt of desire shot though Derek at the touch of her searing lips. He marveled anew at the intensity of his reaction to her. She was by far the most perplexing woman he had ever known, yet he burned with his need to possess her. He wanted to kiss and caress every inch of her supple body. He wanted her wild and wanton, her body hungering for him. He wanted to drink his fill of the exquisite, responsive passion he had merely tasted thus far. Passion, he strongly suspected, no man had yet truly discovered.

  “I am afraid,” Diana whispered suddenly, her face cradled in his hand.

  “Of me?” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Of us,” she answered helplessly, turning her head away. His eyes were too sharp, too keen. She felt as though they could look into her very soul and instantly know all her secrets.

  “You feel it too, don’t you, Diana?” he murmured huskily. “The searing flame, the intense attraction, the nearly uncontrollable excitement between us,”

  Diana kept her eyes downcast. She felt very unsure. She was naive and inexperienced in the ways of love and did not know how to respond.

  “I don’t understand,” she confessed. “You make me shiver and tingle and ache for something—I don’t even know what.” She stared at him. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Desire, my sweet,” he told her, with a smile of triumph at her admission. He knew he wasn’t being completely honest with her. He had felt desire for many women in his life, but it was never like the intense need he felt for Diana. That he could not explain, but he did understand desire. “I have awakened your long dormant passions and given you a mere hint of the exquisite pleasure that awaits us.”

  Her eyes grew even wider at his words. Heat flushed her face and her breathing quickened. Good Lord, she thought with wonder and dismay, even his voice affected her.

  Derek saw her reaction, and the tightening in his loins sent him to the very edge of his self-control. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her high in the air. Then slowly, tantalizingly, he slid her down the front of his body, feeling her respond instantly as she made contact with his hardened flesh. He wanted her to feel his excitement for her, wanted her to know that she too possessed the power to drive him to mindless passion.

  “Lord, how I want you, Diana,” he breathed in her ear. “Do you want me also, my love? Will you come to me now? Will you spread your silken thighs for me, so I can appease this hunger that burns deeply within both of us?”

  Diana groaned softly at his words, her mind barely coherent. She squeezed his shoulders hard in response, but then disengaged herself from his embrace. Her breathing was ragged as she looked into his beautiful blue eyes. Her ignorance compelled her to speak her fears.

  “I am frightened, Derek,” she whispered hesitantly. “Will you hurt me?”

  Derek felt his throat tighten at her words. He should have known Giles would have treated her roughly, perhaps even brutally. It explained much about her hesitation and her seemingly innocent and inexperienced response to his advances. He trapped her in his arms and pulled her head close to his until their noses touched.

  “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart,” he declared softly. He lightly kissed the tip of her nose and then began trailing kisses from her temple, to her ear, to her neck, and finally to her lips, emphasizing his promise.

  Diana allowed herself to be persuaded. She glanced up at Derek’s handsome face and her last vestiges of fear and doubt were finally dispatched. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she loved him, and she knew, more than anything else, she wanted to belong to this man.

  Derek saw the fear and doubt leave her eyes, and he felt victorious. Not only for himself, but for Diana as well. Even though she had been married, he now knew she had not achieved much pleasure from that union. Tonight, he was going to change all that. Tonight, he was going to show her the true magic that could exist between a man and a woman.

  Starring hypnotically into her eyes, Derek reached out, swiftly undoing the buttons down the front of Diana’s nightgown. He eased the garment away from her shoulders and the soft flannel fell away from her body, puddling at her feet.

  Diana could see the muscle of Derek’s jaw flexing and hear his rapid, uneven breathing. She blushed furiously, averting her eyes. No man had ever seen her naked before. Her hands moved up instinctively to shield her body, but Derek caught her by the wrists.

  “Don’t be shy, Diana,” he coaxed. “You are so very beautiful.”

  Her blush deepened, and Derek gathered her into his arms. He knew she was embarrassed, and he tried to distract her. He dipped his head and gave her a slow, wet kiss. As he kissed her, his mind filled with the lovely vision of her unclothed flesh: her skin so white and flawless, her breasts round and firm, her nipples dusky rose. Her tiny waist emphasized her slender hips and sleek legs, and the soft curls between her thighs were golden and delicate. To Derek, she was sheer perfection.

  “I’m naked,” she murmured when he ceased his kiss.

  “I know.” Derek flashed her a wicked grin.

  She met his eyes with a confidence she did not feel. “Why do you still have your clothes on?”

  “I won’t for long, sweetheart.” He laughed huskily.

  He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, then scooped her up in his arms. He strode across the room and lowered her to the bed, kissing her continuously. Groaning, he finally broke away and stood up, a bit unsteady. With his back to her, he removed his shirt and breeches and then turned to face her. Diana, rec
lining against the pillows, widened her eyes in shock, as she got her first frontal view of a naked man.

  Words failed her. He was so magnificently beautiful. Without his garments, he looked enormous to her, with his broad shoulders and massive chest. Her eyes drifted down the length of him, following the dark curls of hair that began on his chest, to his flat stomach and then to his manhood, which was thrusting outward, thick and swollen.

  Diana swallowed hard. She drew a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm her nerves. She fervently wished she wasn’t so ignorant. She had a general idea of how things went between a man and a woman, but she was not entirely clear about what happened. Would Derek be disappointed in her lack of experience? Would he be able to tell?

  Ignorant of her fears, Derek eagerly joined her on the bed. Stretching out on his side, he faced her, his head resting casually on his angled arm. He gently placed her hand on his chest and Diana no longer had time to ponder her ignorance. His flesh was warm beneath her touch and she was enthralled by it. His chest felt hard and muscular and the hair covering it was soft and springy. Fascinated, she ran her fingers through the hair, massaging the muscles underneath. She discovered his flat nipples, so like hers and yet so different. She rubbed her thumbs roughly over them, just as he had done to her. To her surprise and delight, they tightened and hardened.

  Her lovely face was a wonder for Derek to behold. Her eyes were glittering with excitement and it heated his blood to see her so curious, so guileless in her quest to discover his secrets. He was barely breathing, yet he somehow managed to remain perfectly still while Diana innocently explored his body. He wanted her to know the feel of him so when they finally came together she would be familiar with him.

  Diana’s hand moved down his chest, stroking his stomach in slow circles. She hesitated when she reached the thick nest of curls at his groin, but Derek, feeling her intention, reached down and lifted her hand, placing it over his swelling arousal. “Touch me, Diana.”

 

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