Tempted by His Touch: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Dukes, Rogues, & Alpha Heroes Historical Romance Novels

by Darcy Burke

  He swallowed knowing he was about to be alone with Caroline.

  Caroline’s eyes widened. “Mother? You aren’t actually going to leave me alone with him, are you?”

  The dowager tsked twice. “And what are you so worried about, dear? Your reputation? Speak to him.” Stepping out, the dowager faced them and whisked the sliding doors shut with a triumphant whoosh of her arms that resounded like a cannon.

  He and Caroline now had a view of nothing but closed doors and indented red velvet walls. It was quiet. Painfully quiet.

  Caroline turned to him, pinching her lips together.

  Ronan knew this was his one and only chance to right things between them. And he damn well wasn’t about to let it fall through his hands. He slowly rounded the desk, chanting to himself that he could win her and paused directly before her. That soft scent of powder and jasmine drifted toward him, achingly reminding him of their night together.

  She lifted her chin to meet his gaze.

  He settled himself on the edge of the writing desk before her and confessed in a low, strained tone, “I hardly slept.”

  She said nothing.

  He swiped his face, not even knowing what he was supposed to say.

  She held his gaze.

  A breath escaped him. “I should have told you about my involvement with Lady Danbury when we were in that alcove. That was the time to do it, and I’m sorry I violated your trust. I was overwhelmed and didn’t want to see you hurt. Believe me when I say that.”

  Lowering her gaze, she scooted away, distancing herself from his booted feet. “Why did she feel the need to humiliate me by making me believe you wanted me? Wasn’t it enough that she had you and I didn’t?”

  Those words strangled him. “Caroline.” He leaned toward her and reached out, taking her gloved hand. He squeezed it hard in an effort to convey his sincerity. “She never had me in that way. And she knew that. Why do you think she did what she did? She let me go. And she wasn’t looking to humiliate you. Theodosia doesn’t look at life the way others do. She has been through…a lot. Her intentions were morbidly misguided, and cruel, I will agree, but she didn’t mean them to be. She wanted to ensure you and I would forge a union because she knew, given the sort of man I am, that I would have never committed to you. And she was right. I wouldn’t have. And that is why she did what she did. She wanted to see us wed.”

  Caroline stiffened and snatched back her hand. “And why would your lover wish to see us wed? That makes no sense, Ronan. What sort of a fool do you think I am?”

  Ronan fisted his hand, which no longer held hers and rested it awkwardly against his thigh. He wanted to tell Caroline everything. He wanted to tell her about Lady Stanbury, about what had happened to Theodosia and her brother, but he refused to unfold his shame. He had shamed himself enough in her eyes last night. And he wanted to be a man in her eyes. Not a fourteen-year-old boy who had been raped. “It isn’t a farce. The night you and I were brought together in that alcove was but a glimpse of how Theodosia rationalizes things. She was concerned that things between you and I would permanently fragment after she discovered that Lord Gifford had matrimonial intentions toward you. She knows the man’s mother. The question I have is: did you know of Gifford’s intentions? Were you aware of them?”

  She glanced up, those pretty blue-green eyes ablaze and her cheeks visibly flushing, making almost every last freckle disappear.

  So she did know. And it was true. Gifford wanted to marry Caroline. Jealousy punched him. “And is he who your mother was referring to when she mentioned there being another gentleman waiting?”

  She half-nodded.

  Ronan shifted his jaw, trying to remain calm. “How involved are you with him?”

  She set her hand against her stomacher. “I’m not involved with him.” She huffed out a breath and dropped her hand. “I don’t know why he proposed. We don’t know all that much about each other. I gave him the waltz and maybe…I don’t know.”

  The waltz. Of course. For some men of the ton, especially the respectable sort, that was all it took. He hated knowing that she had given some other man a most intimate dance even he hadn’t shared with her. He smoothed his cravat, noting that annoyingly, his hand was trembling. “So you like him.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  He could tell by her tone she meant it. He could hardly breathe knowing it. “Do you like him enough to marry him?”

  “Maybe,” she tossed out, with a wiggle of her head.

  He tightened his jaw. This was not the Caroline he knew. She was purposefully trying to hurt him. “Don’t play games with me, Caroline. I won’t stand for it.”

  A sudden contempt flashed in her eyes. “I think I have graciously listened and answered enough of your questions. I think it time you answer my questions.”

  He wasn’t ready for this. He adjusted his waistcoat in an effort to appear calm. “If that would please you. What sort of questions do you have?”

  Her features stilled. “Do you love this woman you submitted to, this Lady Danbury of yours?”

  The first question out of her mouth and it pertained to love. God. He slowly shook his head from side to side. “No.”

  Caroline stared. “Did you ever love any of the women you submitted to?”

  Setting his shoulders, he drew in a calming breath. “No. I never did.”

  She still stared. “Are you beginning to see my point, Ronan?”

  He flexed his hands that were beginning to feel cold. “Yes.”

  She shifted toward him. “And?”

  He rubbed at his forearm, trying to stay focused. “And what, Caroline? I said it. I didn’t love them. And none of them loved me. I used them and they used me. It was what they were good for and what I was good for. What else do you want to hear?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “How many women have you actually been with? Do you even know?”

  It was like counting out how many teeth he had ripped out of his mouth in the past few years. “Twenty.” Including Lady Danbury.

  She glanced away and set her chin. “And how did you engage these women?”

  At least she was talking to him. “I didn’t. They engaged me.”

  Turning her gaze back to him, she paused. “Always? You never initiated any of these alliance?”

  “No.” He leaned toward her. “This may surprise you, Caroline, but I don’t pursue women. They pursue me. And when they do, that is when I allow for things to happen. Because guess what? I’m still a man.”

  “I see. And somehow they knew your grand method of thinking and did all the work for you? Is that what you are saying?”

  “Yes. More or less.”

  “And might I ask how all these women knew you could be chased and bought?”

  He dragged a heavy hand through his hair in mild disbelief that they were discussing his sex life. “Women talk amongst themselves, and many of them knew I could be bought given my finances. It turned into me being approached all the time at events. Most would slip their calling card into my hand or pocket and ask me to call on them. And I would.”

  Her eyes widened. “And you would? Every time? No matter who it was?”

  He heaved out an exasperated breath. “No, Caroline. Not every time. For God’s sake, I have standards.” He shifted against the desk, knowing he needed to be as honest with her as possible. He owed it to her. “First and foremost, I always ensured any woman I became involved with was clean. Because the last thing I wanted was finding myself rotting from the pox. I therefore always ensured every woman I entered into an agreement with could provide me proof of her cleanliness by a doctor I chose and trusted. My other requirements? She had to be intelligent enough for me survive more than a few conversations. She had to be wealthy, so she could pay for the things I needed, and she had to be attractive. After all, I couldn’t perform for a woman unless my body was capable of—”

  Caroline popped up a hand. “I would rather you not say anymore as your standards are genuinely fr
ightening me. They aren’t standards, Ronan. They are a superficial list of a self-serving libertine.” Adjusting her cashmere shawl around her shoulders, she glared. “Twenty. Twenty. For spit sake, that means you were changing out women twice a year like a barouche since you were twenty.”

  She said it as if the number were closer to three thousand. He set both hands on the desk he was leaning against. “Enough. You and I never promised ourselves to each other throughout any of those years or even up until now. If I had promised myself to you, Caroline, I could understand you being upset by this and me. But we didn’t promise ourselves to each other. Did we?”

  Her arched brows momentarily flickered. “But you knew how I felt.”

  His voice faded. “Yes. I did. And I was trying to offer you a better life by putting distance between us. But things are different after what Theodosia did. And we both have to acknowledge that.” He leaned toward her, shifting his weight against the edge of the desk and boldly met her gaze. “A sixteen-year-old girl once told me she would embrace me no matter how hard I had fallen. I need that girl right now. I need her to believe in me in the way she used to. The question is, can she? Will she?”

  Her eyes darkened with anguished emotion. “You broke her.”

  A wretchedness of mind seized him. “Caroline. Give me a chance. For God’s sake, it’s all I want. Am I not worth that much to you?”

  She momentarily closed her eyes, setting a hand to her lips. A breath escaped her. She opened her eyes and lowered her hand, lifting her gaze to his. “I want proof that throughout all of this I was who you really wanted. That it wasn’t Lady Danbury you wanted in your arms but me.”

  How did a man provide proof to a woman of his thoughts? It was impossible. He swiped back his hair which was falling into his eyes and knew all he could do was tell her about last night. He was about to look and feel stupid, but he knew he had to say it.

  He shifted against the desk. “I can’t provide proof, given it was in my head, but I can give you my word on what I am about to say. Will that do?”

  She observed him. “It depends on what you say.”

  “I see.” He swallowed. “So uh…last night.”

  “Last night.”

  “Yes. Last night. When you and I were—” He puffed out a breath. “When we were…doing things…in my mind, I was actually doing them with you and to you.”

  She blinked and shifted toward him. “What do you mean?”

  For some reason his face burned. It was like he was fourteen again. “I was having a fantasy about you while we were doing things.”

  She blinked again. “I’m not comprehending. Explain.”

  She was going to make him say it. Bugger. He cleared his throat. “To keep me ‘stimulated’ with who I thought was Theodosia, I gave over to a fantasy that she was actually you. That we were back in that alcove and I was finishing what we never got a chance to finish. And then I heard your voice and it was as if…as if my fantasy had become a reality. Because, hell on earth, you were really there.”

  Her features flickered and her cheeks brightened. “So you were…you were fantasizing that she was…me? Without actually knowing it was me?”

  He half-nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Yes. I even almost said your name at the end of it. When I was…” He wanted to crawl under the desk, but managed to say, “Finishing.”

  An amused tremor touched her lips.

  He could tell she wanted to laugh. His pulse pounded. “It’s not funny.”

  A full-on smirk appeared. “To you it isn’t.”

  She was playing with the wrong man to mock him at a time when he felt like an idiot. He grabbed her and yanked her and her full skirts hard against the length of his legs and blocked her against his own body which was still on the desk.

  She froze, her smirk fading.

  He dragged his hands down to her corseted waist and dug his fingers into the stiff yet soft material of her gown to keep himself from doing more. “Never laugh at me. Not when I am unfolding something important to you.”

  Her lips parted. She searched his face.

  “Did I provide you the proof you wanted?” he asked, softening his voice. “Or would you rather I provide that proof now?”

  She blinked rapidly. “Now?”

  If he had to beg he would. “Yes. Now.” He dragged his hands up toward her full breasts that were heavy against his hand and curved them up to the softness of her throat, trying to control his breathing, trying to control her. “What do I have to do? What are my chances of making you my wife?”

  She leaned into him. Her gloved hands gently smoothed their way up his chest before drifting toward his face. A soft breath escaped her. “Your chances may have improved.” She trailed the tips of her delicate fingers down the sides of his cheeks toward his chin, grazing his stubble.

  An involuntary shudder overtook his entire body and his cock hardened. It hardened not just because of her touch, but because of the way she always kneeled to him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Something intense flared within him knowing he’d never wanted any woman like this. He jerked up her skirts, not caring if her mother heard their cries, and flung them out of his way and off to the side of them.

  She stilled against him.

  He raveled her petticoats around his one hand, silently waiting for her to object as he exposed more and more of her thighs.

  Those pretty eyes merely held his gaze in pulsing silence.

  “Call in your mother and keep me from doing this.” His voice broke with huskiness. “Before she hears everything.”

  She hesitated, searching his face, and then whispered back, “She wouldn’t hear everything. She wouldn’t hear my heartbeat.”

  Though he knew he wasn’t a man of many talents, there was one talent that he, Ronan, specialized in. And he was using it. For her. For him. For them.

  Shifting his jaw, he slipped his bare hand between her smooth thighs, past the soft curls brushing his fingers and found that wetness and that nub. Holding her rigidly against his chest to keep her from moving, he searched her face and breathed out for only her to hear, “Be mine. Always.” They were words he had never spoken to any woman. They were words he meant and felt. He slowly rubbed and flicked her, letting her wetness cover his fingers.

  She swayed against him, her hands gripping his shoulders hard as her cheeks flushed against her own accelerating breaths. Her eyes never left his. Her lips parted.

  She looked like a woman ready to embrace the world.

  And he wanted to be part of that world.

  His chest rose and fell as he flicked and rubbed her faster and faster, until they were both panting in disbelief of what was happening. Feeling as though every bunched muscle in his body would pop knowing he was intimately touching Caroline in a way no man had, and that she was his, all his, he withdrew his hand and took her hand into his.

  He dug his bare fingers into hers and moved them downward. He set them against the flap of his trousers, cupping her hand hard against the rigid line of his cock buried beneath the wool.

  Though her cheeks were the color of fire, she boldly held his gaze, as if more than ready to prove to him that she was a lady who could and would oversee his pleasure and everything and anything he could ever want in life.

  She daringly rubbed her hands against his length.

  He seethed out a breath through his teeth and tightened his hold on her hand, tensely guiding her hand harder against the stiff length buried beneath the flap. He focused her fingers on the rounded tip of his cock through his trousers, guiding her to give him the pleasure he needed and wanted.

  He swayed against the rippling sensation that overwhelmed him. It was overwhelming knowing she was touching him. Using her fingers, he unbuttoned his trousers.

  Caroline lowered her gaze to his lips and slowly leaned in toward his mouth. She angled herself in to better fit her face toward his, given the brim of her bonnet.

  Feeling his mouth go dry, he instinctively moved his fa
ce in time to give his cheek to those lips.

  She bumped her nose and lips against the side of his face. “Ronan.”

  “Shhhh.” He focused and freed his cock, wanting to think of nothing but them and this. Shifting farther back onto the desk, he yanked her up and onto his lap. Gritting his teeth, he straddled her legs around him, pushing her thighs wide and open to expose her to him completely.

  She dragged her moist lips from his cheek toward his lips again.

  He moved his head in agitation, feeling that crawling sensation. It was distracting. “No. Don’t.”

  She paused.

  Swallowing hard, he re-focused and firmly shoved the bundled material of her gown off to the side. His breath came in heavy takes as he positioned the rigid length of his cock to enter her. “Ride me.”

  Caroline grabbed his face and positioned it up toward her own. “Kiss me,” she whispered, trying to bring her lips against his. “I want you to—”

  Panic scraped him. Grabbing her shoulders hard, he jerked her away from himself before those moist lips touched his.

  She froze against him.

  He swallowed, feeling awkward, and eased his grip.

  She searched his face, her hands stilling against his shoulders. She gripped his morning coat. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

  He felt like punching himself. “I know. I’m just…I can’t. I don’t do kissing.”

  Her eyes widened. “You don’t— What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

  He tightened his hold on her and almost wanted to shake her into understanding. “I don’t do anything involving mouth to mouth. Never.”

  She stared. “Why?”

  As if he was going to tell her why. “Kissing isn’t everything, you know.”

  Her lips parted. “But it means everything to me.”

  “Yes, well, you’re going to have to swallow this one, Caroline. Because I don’t do it. I don’t like doing it.”

  “You don’t like…?” She blinked rapidly, hesitated, and then softened her voice. “Can you at least try? Maybe you will like it.” She smiled shyly and then leaned in again.