The Devil Rogue

by Lori Villarreal

  “Miss Hopkins, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Wardley asked earnestly.

  Ian watched as she stared down into the hopeful gaze of the man before her. “Well, I—”

  “I realize I may have lost my chance by not whisking you off months ago,” Wardley said. His face suffused with color at his next words. “But I’m here now, and it matters not to me what has transpired during your stay here.”

  Slipping her hands from his grasp, Angela retreated back a step. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wardley, I cannot accept,” she said softly.

  Ian wasn’t even aware he’d been holding his breath until he heard her answer to Wardley’s proposal, very nearly expelling a loud gust of air upon hearing her refusal.

  What if she’d said yes?

  It wouldn’t have mattered – she belonged to him now and nothing – no one – was going to change that fact.

  Wardley rose awkwardly from his kneeling position. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, I’m certain,” Angela said with a smile. “I do appreciate your offer, however, Mr. Wardley.”

  “I’m just sorry I hadn’t made it sooner, and thereby prevented your current predicament.”

  Angela stood up straighter, raising her chin.

  Oh, no, here it comes, Ian thought with amusement.

  “My predicament, as you call it, Mr. Wardley,” she said crisply, “is of my own choosing, so there is no need for apologies.”

  Looking duly chastised, Wardley quickly said, “I meant no disrespect, Miss Hopkins.”

  “None taken,” Angela replied with a gracious smile.

  Taking her hands once more, Wardley brushed a light kiss across her knuckles. “I shall take my leave, then.” He looked into her eyes. “If you should ever need a friend . . . for any reason I am here for you, at any rate.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Wardley. It is most comforting to know I have a friend I can rely on.”

  “Goodbye, then, Miss Hopkins.” Nodding toward Ian, he said, “Blackridge.” He then bowed to Angela and squaring his shoulders, took his leave with as much dignity as the situation allowed.

  “Perhaps I should have taken lessons from Mr. Wardley on the proper way to propose marriage to a woman,” Ian drawled. “Apparently I went about the whole thing in quite the wrong manner – on bended knee and all that.”

  Could that be jealousy Angela heard underlying his tone? She inwardly smirked at the possibility that the infamous Devil Rogue was jealous – over her! He’d been surprisingly quiet throughout the entire encounter with Mr. Wardley. She’d almost forgotten he was still in the room – almost.

  “I daresay, the image of you on your knees before me holds a definite appeal,” she goaded. “What say you try it and find out?”

  She was enjoying this, the minx! He will kneel before her, oh yes – but not to spout another proposal destined to die an early death. He was going to woo her, tempt her, pleasure her every way he knew how, and then when he was sure no one else existed in her world except for him, he would ask her again. Ian just hoped she would forgive him for his past transgressions against her.

  It is most comforting to know I have a friend I can rely on.

  Her words haunted him, and Ian vowed to become that friend she so desperately needed. He would not give Wardley the chance to fulfill his promise.

  He closed the door, locking it with a flick of his wrist. “And now for the kneeling part.”

  She watched him as he sank to his knees directly in front of her, and Ian could swear she’d stopped breathing. From this position, his head was level with her waist. His attention turned to the hem of her gown. “The first rule of seduction is to create a state of anticipation, which increases in intensity by slow increments.”

  The deep, sensual timber of his voice sent shivers up Angela’s spine. His hand slipped beneath the hem, over her shoe, to gently caress her ankle. She could feel the warmth of his fingers through her stocking as his hand rose higher, sliding up her calf to the back of her knee. With the pads of his fingers, he drew light, teasing circles, while his other hand slid up her other leg in the same manner, those fingers also drawing circles.

  “The trick is to move slowly, to tantalize with pleasurable sensations,” he said. “Do you find this pleasurable, Angela?” Her name rolled off his tongue like a physical caress, as tangible as what his hands were doing to her at the moment.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  His hands began to rise again, in tandem, until they reached her garters and the edge of her stockings. They glided up the front of her thighs, and then around to the backs ever so slowly. Her dress was bunched over his forearms now. She instinctively caught the material in her hands, eager for him to continue his upward trek.

  “Very good, my princess,” he praised her in a smoky voice. “You’re an apt pupil. Already you see the merits of teamwork.”

  His heated lips made contact with the soft skin of one inner thigh.

  Angela’s every nerve ending screamed with delight when his tongue came out to lick a random pattern on her sensitized skin. It was odd that she should feel sensations in her breasts, her nipples, her belly, and farther down, in her woman’s center from that small contact.

  He cupped her buttocks with both hands, and then he was kissing and licking a wet trail all the way up to her opening, stopping just before reaching the prize. He began again on the other side, his wicked mouth burning yet another hot trail up her thigh. Her legs were weak and trembling. She could barely hold herself up any longer. If it weren’t for his strong hands holding her in place, she would have crumbled into a boneless pile on the floor.

  He paused long enough to say, “And once the threshold of pleasure is attained, the receiver will allow the seducer to do anything he – or she – wishes.”

  “Anything?” she asked on a gasp.

  “Absolutely,” he murmured, for a moment gazing at her exposed flesh with admiration, his eyes hot and golden. Then he placed his mouth directly on the slick folds of her opening.

  She gasped with pure, carnal pleasure, her head dropping back as he sucked and kissed and licked the sweet dew released from her arousal. Her breaths came hard and fast, her mind focused only on him – what he was doing – the sensations he created with his skilled mouth. Her spirit felt lifted, filled with joy, her body trembling with a mounting pressure building in her core. Her heart thundered in her chest, echoing in her ears, the moment of her release drawing near.

  Then she was on her back, covered by the warmth and weight of Ian’s body. She hadn’t even noticed when he’d laid her down on the floor. It was as though she’d somehow jumped forward in time. She had no opportunity to contemplate her position any further as he slid into her, impaling her with his maleness, his strength, his heat. He groaned low, from the back of his throat, and kissed her deeply, hotly, sharing the taste of her own essence.

  Ian’s intention had been to give her the utmost pleasure, but when he’d tasted her honey, had felt her body trembling beneath his hands, he’d been lost. He’d maneuvered her onto her back on the floor, released the fastenings on the front of his breeches, and entered her with the same wild eagerness a stallion must feel when covering his mare.

  And now, he held nothing back, his passion unrestrained as he moved within her, gradually increasing the power of his thrusts. When she cried out, her inner muscles milking him with tight little spasms, he exploded deep inside her, nearly going deaf, dumb, and blind from the shear force of his own climax.

  It took him a moment to remember where he was, and when he did, he was astounded by his utter lack of awareness of his surroundings while with her. He also realized that three months would not be enough to get his fill of her. It would surely take a lifetime to explore her allure, divine her secrets, to know her as no one else ever would. As her husband, she would be bound to him for that lifetime, and it would be his right – his obligation as her husband to discover her deepest thoughts and desires, and strive to make her happy.
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br />   He felt her shift beneath him, so he eased his weight off her. Raising onto his elbows he looked down at her.

  “Ian?”

  “Yes, princess?” he replied softly, his gaze taking in her kiss-swollen lips, the flush in her cheeks, and the questioning look in her eyes. He was still embedded within her, but as his member softened from his spent passion, it slipped out slowly, leaving him feeling strangely bereft by the severed connection.

  “I was wondering . . .”

  Ian brushed a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. “What were you wondering?” It didn’t matter to him that they were laying on the floor of his study in such a scandalous position. He could stay here forever.

  “These encounters . . . well, I do enjoy them – immensely, in fact – but what about . . . what if you get me with child? Is there some way to continue and prevent that from happening?”

  “You are aware you could already be with child, as you so delicately put it?” The idea had definitely occurred to him, and he wasn’t necessarily concerned. Indeed, if she were to become pregnant, he thought with a twisted sense of logic, it may be just the thing that would convince her to marry him.

  “Yes, I’m aware of that possibility,” she said, and then stammered, “But I suggest we – you – or I, rather, take the necessary precautions in the future,” Angela stammered.

  “I could get you some sponges – I’ve been told they’re effective in preventing pregnancy.”

  “Knowledge gained from your vast experience, I take it?”

  Ian chuckled. “You are well aware of my reputation, princess. Consider yourself the lucky beneficiary of said reputation.”

  Of course she knew his reputation, yet it bothered Angela all the same. The benefits, however, as he’d pointed out, were definitely worth overlooking exactly how he came by his experience. She laughed softly in response, smiling up into his handsome face. “Indeed, my lord, it has been quite . . . beneficial.”

  He kissed her, his mouth plundering hers with a renewed energy that surprised her. He moved on to kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids, working his way back down to her throat. She tilted her head back, moaning on a sigh, allowing him full access to the soft flesh there.

  With nimble fingers, he pulled on the front of her gown, releasing her breasts. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, in anticipation of where his lips would travel next. He suckled one nipple, lightly biting the raised bud, and then swirled his tongue to soothe it.

  Angela knew she shouldn’t let him continue, especially after she’d just voiced her concerns about pregnancy, but the pleasure she felt from his touch made her mindless to the consequences. He thrust into her already slippery opening, and she welcomed him eagerly, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him, and matched his rhythm with wild abandon.

  They both seemed to be overcome by a force of nature beyond their control, a storm of carnal sensations and intense emotions.

  Ian groaned, his body tensing as her muscles contracted around him, rippling along his length as she climaxed. She cried out his name into his ear as though it was a benediction. Miraculously, he pulled out at the last second, spilling his seed on her thigh.

  Afterward, they lay spent, their bodies entwined, neither one of them ready to relinquish the moment, it seemed. Slowly but surely the world intruded once more, and they moved apart, wordlessly putting themselves – their clothes – and their emotions – back to rights.

  They stood facing each other. Ian brushed his knuckles across one side of her flushed face. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice still husky from the force of their recent union.

  Angela placed a hand over his, holding it there. “You are a man of many mysteries and talents, my lord.” She smiled warmly, gazing into the depths of his golden eyes. Her heart still beat in an erratic pattern, her limbs weak and trembling.

  Turning his lips into the palm of her hand, he kissed it tenderly. With a hint of regret in his voice, he said, “As much as I’d like to make you my prisoner in this room forever, I have work to do. But I shall seek you out the first chance I get.”

  “You know where to find me.”

  Angela left the study more confused then ever. She had thought Wardley’s offer was very dear, but she knew without a doubt that no other man would suit her – no other except Ian. He’d been considerate enough about her concerns about pregnancy to release himself outside her body. It warmed her heart that he’d respected her wishes. She would stay with him for the remainder of her time here, and cherish those memories until the end of her days.

  5

  Villarreal / The Devil Rogue

  Chapter 15

  “MY MOTHER IS here? Now?” Ian groaned audibly. Phillips stood in uncomfortable silence waiting for his lordship’s reply to the announcement that the Viscountess Blackridge had arrived. Expelling an exasperated breath at his mother’s uncanny sense of timing, Ian said with resignation, “Have her things taken up to her usual quarters, and tell her I’ll join her in the parlor shortly.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  This was most definitely not a favorable turn of events. His mother, however open-minded she could be on certain matters, was more than likely here to assess the situation based on the spread of gossip about Miss Hopkins – gossip he’d instigated, to Ian’s everlasting shame. His mother would surely disapprove of his most recent spectacle in a long line of notorious spectacles perpetrated by The Devil Rogue. It was beyond scandalous to have one’s mistress reside in one’s family home, if only to avoid the occasion of, say, one’s mother meeting up with one’s mistress.

  The burden of trying to convince his mother that Miss Hopkins was innocent of any wrong-doing or lack of morals which may have led to her downfall, landed squarely on his shoulders like a great pressing weight. His dilemma became multifaceted in that he not only had to persuade Miss Hopkins . . . Angela, to marry him, he had to bring his mother around to the idea, find a way to absolve Angela in the eyes of society – to somehow undo the damage – and to find a murderer. At the moment, those hurdles seemed insurmountable, his goals unobtainable, the mystery unsolvable.

  There was only one way to see success, and that was to take each problem one at a time. He’d already begun with his seduction of Angela, now he would work on swaying his mother. He had private detectives watching every move the baron made, ever since he’d assaulted Angela, and was regularly kept apprised of his activities.

  With a renewed strength of resolve, Ian inhaled a fortifying breath, straightened his shoulders, and reached for the door handle. He opened it with determination, ready to face his mother. To his delighted surprise, a warm, soft, deliciously curved bundle stumbled into his arms. A flash of Angela on the floor of this room, receiving his passionate thrusts into her heat, only hours ago, invaded his mind while the gentle scent of her perfume lingered in the air between them, teasing his senses.

  “Oh!” She cried, and went on to explain in a breathless rush, “I was just about to knock when you opened the door.”

  Still holding her within the circle of his arms, Ian braced himself to give her the news of his mother’s arrival. Looking down at her, into the deep blue of her eyes, he cleared his throat. “We have a guest, princess.”

  “A guest? But who—”

  “Don’t be alarmed, but my mother is here for a visit – a very short visit if I have anything to say about it.” He gritted his teeth in preparation for her reaction.

  “Your mother!” she practically screeched, taking the news just as he’d predicted. She tried to extract herself from his firm embrace. “What am I going to do? I cannot stay in this house while she’s here!” Still struggling, she finally gave up with an exasperated huff.

  “Now, princess,” Ian said softly, hiding an amused smile at her show of spunk. He was enjoying the way her luscious body rubbed enticingly against his own. He leaned in close, next to her ear, and whispered, “I will take care of my mother, and when she is gone on the morrow, I will ta
ke care of you.”

  He felt her shiver. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” she demanded. “And, please, have the decency not to mention your mother, and taking care of me in the same sentence. It is much too wicked – and disrespectful,” she finished primly.

  Ian flashed a wide grin. “I can’t help it. You’re just so delectable when you’re so serious and proper.”

  Angela could only stare in mute surprise at the transformation that came over him with a simple smile. His usual grim and intimidating countenance was replaced by a disarmingly handsome man. Oh, he was quite pleasing to look upon, regardless of his expression, but in that moment, he looked younger, less burdened. She could see why he was such an attraction to women, could envision him at a ball, dressed in his black finery, charming every female within visual range with that devastating smile. And she was not immune to it – oh, far from it. It captivated her, sending tiny little thrilling sensations directly to her belly, scattering her thoughts like a flock of starlings taking flight.

  Finding her tongue once more, she said, “Well, one of us has to be serious, and don’t you dare badger your mother into leaving tomorrow. I’ll just make myself scarce on the servants’ floor. I wouldn’t want my presence here to insult her.”

  Ian scowled at her. “For one thing, no one is capable of badgering my mother into doing anything she doesn’t wish to do, and secondly, I don’t want you to ever feel like your presence is an insult.”

  “You know what I meant. She has surely heard the gossip about—” She couldn’t stop herself from blushing. “—my status here.” It reminded Angela that her status could be easily changed to that of wife, if she would just accept his proposal, but she didn’t want to think about that now.

  “I’ll handle my mother. All you need do is be yourself.”

  “Be myself? What exactly is that supposed to mean? You know very well it would be unacceptable for me to associate with your mother.”