When Only a Rake Will Do

by Jennifer McNare

“She also told me what you did for him; that your actions most-likely saved his life.”

  “He’d given up,” Brendon said ruefully. “I couldn’t bear to just sit there and watch him die.”

  “He’s very fortunate to have a friend like you.”

  Brendon grinned. “He didn’t think so at the time, I assure you. But eventually he came around.”

  “Thank you for bringing me here, Brendon,” Daphne said then. “Not just to the stream, but to this place, to Rose Cottage.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said softly. Their eyes locked and held, and a moment later Brendon’s mouth descended upon hers.

  Daphne welcomed the kiss, leaning into him as he pressed his lips gently to hers.

  He kissed her like that for a time, softly, tenderly, mindful of her innocence, careful not to frighten her with the growing hunger he held tightly in check, despite the sudden ache in his loins. Trustingly she followed his lead, allowing him to guide her as he gradually deepened the kiss, coaxing her lips apart.

  The feel of Brendon’s tongue skimming lightly across her lips, playful and seductive, sent a delicious jolt racing through Daphne’s body. And when he pressed forward, exploring her mouth as if it were the tastiest, most succulent fruit, she felt her insides turn to jelly. She raised her hands, grasping the lapels of his jacket, delighting in the new, unfamiliar intimacy that sent her senses reeling. Tentatively at first, then more boldly, she mimicked his movements, her tongue parrying with his as she began her own exploration, inordinately pleased when he emitted a groan of satisfaction.

  She was a quick learner, too quick, Brendon realized as Daphne’s eager response stoked the flame of his desire to a near fever pitch. Damn, even as his body rebelled, his arms pulling her more tightly against him as her hands moved up from his chest to twine around his neck, he knew that he had to slow things down. They had the entire night ahead of them, he reminded himself. And so, difficult as it was, he slowly eased back, ultimately relinquishing the sweetness of her lips and pressing his forehead lightly against hers, fighting to control his ragged breathing as well as the fire now raging in his loins.

  Daphne too, struggled to control her erratic breathing as they stood motionless now upon the grassy bank. Gracious, if that was but a prelude for what was to come, she could hardly wait for night to fall she thought with a sudden wantonness.

  “As much as I would like to continue what we’ve begun,” Brendon said, lifting his head, “if we don’t stop I’m not entirely certain that I will be able to keep from taking you right here and now,” he continued in a husky murmur.

  Though his words caused a delicious shiver to race along Daphne’s spine, she nodded in agreement. “Yes, I… suppose we should stop then,” she said, her voice surprisingly unsteady as she lowered her arms from around his neck.

  “For now,” he said, though he couldn’t help but smile, for Daphne didn’t appear entirely averse to surrendering her innocence right then and there. Nevertheless, he had a much more comfortable setting in mind.

  “For now,” Daphne repeated as her dizzied senses slowly returned to normal.

  “In the meantime, perhaps we should return to the cottage and see how Mrs. Stone is coming along with our dinner,” Brendon suggested.

  “Alright.”

  Stepping back, Brendon extended his hand, taking hold of Daphne’s once again as he interlaced their fingers and turned them back toward the cottage.

  Chapter 8

  As Brendon had asserted, Mrs. Stone was indeed a wonderful cook. The pheasant was delicious and the side dishes equally delectable. However, Daphne hardly did justice to the woman’s scrumptious fare, for it was difficult to concentrate on the food before her when her attention was focused almost entirely upon the night ahead.

  “Was everything to your liking, my lady?” Mrs. Stone asked as she cleared the dinner dishes.

  “The meal was excellent, Mrs. Stone,” Daphne assured her. “Thank you.”

  “Indeed it was,” Brendon concurred with a gracious smile.

  “I hope you both saved room for a slice of pie,” she replied with an answering smile.

  “Don’t I always,” Brendon said with an agreeable nod.

  Daphne nodded as well, for despite her lack of appetite, she didn’t wish to hurt Mrs. Stone’s feelings. “Yes, of course,” she seconded.

  As Mrs. Stone made her way back to the kitchen, Brendon was quick to refill their empty wine glasses.

  “Thank you,” Daphne said, before lifting the glass to her lips and taking a sip. “I don’t usually drink wine, but this is delicious.”

  “It’s from a small, family-owned winery outside of Florence,” Brendon replied as he too lifted his glass. “Its existence isn’t widely known, but I was fortunate enough to learn of it during one of my most recent voyages.”

  “How very fortuitous,” Daphne replied with an appreciative smile.

  Brendon grinned. “You would be amazed at some of the hidden treasures you can uncover by simply befriending the locals.”

  “Will you be embarking upon another voyage soon?” she asked curiously.

  Brendon took a drink and then set down his glass. “Not terribly soon, no.”

  While she knew that it shouldn’t matter to her one way or the other, Daphne couldn’t help feeling pleased that Brendon had no immediate plans to leave England.

  “Here you are,” Mrs. Stone said then, as she returned from the kitchen with two slices of warm apple pie, placing them onto the table.

  “It smells heavenly, Mrs. Stone. Thank you,” Brendon stated as he dug his fork into the flaky crust.

  “Yes, thank you,” Daphne said, as she too forked a small piece of the tasty-looking dessert. “Umm,” she said after taking the first bite. “Delicious.”

  Mrs. Stone smiled appreciatively. “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?” she asked, glancing between them.

  “Not a thing,” Brendon assured her, while Daphne merely shook her head.

  “Alright then,” she said. “Mr. Stone should be along directly to fetch me home, so I’ll bid you both a good night then,” she continued pleasantly.

  “Good night, Mrs. Stone,” both Brendon and Daphne replied as she made her way from the room, disappearing into the kitchen once again.

  By the time they’d eaten their dessert and finished the last bit of wine, the sky had grown dark and the interior of the cottage was lit only by the oil lamps Mrs. Stone had set to burning before she’d left.

  “Would you care to step outside for a moment?” Brendon asked as he made his way around the table to pull out Daphne’s chair. “With the clear sky the stars should be on full display tonight.”

  “I’d love to,” Daphne said as she rose from her seat.

  Exiting into the rear garden a few moments later, Brendon led Daphne toward a narrow bench just a short distance away and then sat down next to her atop the marble seat.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Daphne said as she turned her gaze to the night sky.

  “Isn’t it,” Brendon responded as he turned his own gaze skyward. “It’s one of the things I miss most when I’m in London.”

  Daphne turned to him with a smile. “I was just thinking that very same thing the other night. How much I miss seeing the star-filled sky when I’m in the city.”

  “You should see the night sky from the middle of the ocean,” he said. “It’s a spectacular sight. In fact, when I’m at sea and the waters are calm, I’ll often string up a hammock and sleep on deck just so that I can fall asleep beneath the stars.”

  “Sleeping beneath the stars,” Daphne murmured, “how delightful that sounds.”

  “Look, a shooting star,” Brendon said then, pointing towards the northern sky.

  Daphne turned her head, but it was already gone. “Did you make a wish?”

  “A wish?” he asked, regarding her curiously.

  “You’ve never wished upon a shooting star?” Daphne responded in surprise.

 
; Brendon merely shook his head.

  “Not even as a child?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “It’s silly I suppose, wishing on a star,” she said then, with a self-conscious laugh.

  “Nonsense, I don’t think it’s silly at all,” he insisted. “In fact, since I have clearly missed out on so many opportunities already, I intend to make a wish right now, a very special wish, one that shall make up for all the others.”

  Daphne smiled at the earnestness in his voice, appreciating that even if he did think the notion foolish or juvenile, he didn’t show it.

  “But what shall that wish be?” Brendon mused, wrinkling his brow in thought.

  “Well, whatever it might be you mustn’t voice it aloud,” Daphne cautioned.

  Brendon nodded perceptively. “Or it won’t come true, I suppose?”

  Daphne grinned, enjoying Brendon’s playfulness. “Quite right.”

  Brendon grinned back. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “When you’re ready, close your eyes and make your wish.”

  Closing his eyes a moment later, Brendon made his wish. But it wasn’t a wish for him, it was for her. He wished that the incredible young woman sitting beside him would someday find the lasting happiness she so greatly deserved.

  They sat there for a time, watching the stars and pointing out the various constellations to one another as they took pleasure in the cool night air. But even as they enjoyed the beauty of the night, they couldn’t ignore the silent undercurrent flowing between them, an unmistakable feeling of anticipation that grew stronger with each and every minute.

  “Are you ready to go back inside?” Brendon asked a few minutes later.

  Turning to face him, Daphne simply nodded as her stomach did a crazy little flip flop.

  “Alright then” he said with a reassuring smile. “Will you wait here for just a moment though, for there is something I need to attend to before we retire?” he asked, rising from the bench.

  Retire. Daphne swallowed hard. “Yes, of course.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  Watching as Brendon entered the cottage, Daphne realized that the moment she’d been waiting for was finally upon her; and despite her nerves she was ready. In fact, she could hardly wait.

  Minutes later, as Brendon led her back into the cottage and then up the narrow staircase, Daphne tried to keep her breathing steady and even, but with her racing heart it was difficult. Fortunately, however, Brendon didn’t appear to notice.

  Reaching the top of the stairs they moved just a short distance down the hall, stopping before the first door on the right. Daphne waited then as Brendon slowly pushed open the door.

  “After you, my lady,” he said, stepping back so that Daphne could enter the room.

  Walking into the small bedchamber Daphne caught her breath in surprise, for scattered about the room nearly a dozen candles flickered in their holders, casting their soft light upon vase after vase of freshly cut roses. Even the bed, a large four-poster with an exquisitely patterned damask canopy and matching bed hangings tied at each post, was covered in a profusion of rose petals. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, turning to Brendon in wonder.

  “I’m not certain how this will rank in comparison to the settings in your fairytales,” he said with a gentle smile, “but I hope you like it.”

  “It’s perfect, Brendon, thank you,” she replied, completely awed by what he’d done.

  “You’re very welcome.” Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it onto a nearby chair. Then, stepping forward he held out his hand.

  Daphne raised her arm and took hold of Brendon’s outstretched hand, smiling softly as he drew her further into the room. With her heart beating wildly within her chest, she followed him as he led her across the carpeted floor to the bed, stopping when they reached its side. The coverlet, she noted, had already been pulled back and the vibrant red of the scattered rose petals made a striking contrast against the pristine, ivory-colored silk sheets.

  “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?” Brendon asked quietly, watching her face, giving her one last chance to change her mind.

  Daphne lifted her gaze from the bed, her eyes locking with his. “Yes,” she said, her voice unwavering. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  “Thank God,” Brendon murmured. “For if you had changed your mind, I’m not entirely certain that I would have been able to let you go,” he continued huskily. Then lowering his head, he captured her lips in an impassioned kiss.

  Daphne closed her eyes, delighting in the delicious sensation, welcoming the increasing pressure of Brendon’s lips against hers. Moments later, feeling the tip of his tongue trace decadently along the line of her lower lip, she nearly moaned aloud at the intoxicating sensation. Opening to him on a gentle sigh she allowed his tongue to invade the warm recess of her mouth, surrendering wholeheartedly as the spine-tingling kiss set her nerve endings aflame.

  Grasping her waist, Brendon pulled Daphne against him as he devoured her sweet mouth, groaning in satisfaction when she followed his lead, mimicking his actions as she had earlier, her tongue parrying with his. But she was bolder this time, more self-assured and he delighted in her newfound confidence. It fueled his desire, her enthusiastic response lengthening and hardening his manhood until it strained against the fabric of his breeches. But despite the increasing ache in his loins he cautioned himself to go slow, reminding himself yet again that she was an innocent.

  Lifting her arms, Daphne twined them around Brendon’s neck, fearing her knees might buckle beneath her as he kissed her into a state of near mindlessness. The feeling was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, a heady, drugging sensation that seemed to flow throughout her entire body. It was simply glorious and she reveled in it.

  When finally he was able to tear his lips away from hers, Brendon moved his mouth along the line of Daphne’s jaw, reigning nibbling little kisses upon her soft skin as he seared a path to her earlobe, nipping it lightly with his teeth before trailing his lips downward along the slender column of her neck.

  Tiny shivers skittered along Daphne’s spine as her head fell back. Eagerly she yielded her throat, allowing Brendon unhindered access to the smooth, sensitive flesh that tingled and burned beneath his wandering lips and heated breath. Of their own accord it seemed, her arms tightened, her fingers delving into the thick, soft hair at the nape of his neck as she leaned into him, urging him on. Then suddenly one of his hands moved from her waist, skimming lightly across the front of her gown as it journeyed slowly upward along her ribcage to the underside of her breast, causing a whole new flood of sensation to course throughout her body.

  Ever so gently, Brendon cupped the mound of her left breast, massaging its fullness with the palm of his hand as his lips continued to drift downward, stopping to explore the little hollow at the base of her throat. Then, as his tongue moved slowly along the edge of her collarbone, he flicked his thumb lightly against her nipple, feeling her sharp intake of breath as it puckered and hardened beneath the fabric of her gown. With bated breath he waited for her to flinch or to pull away, but she did neither, instead moaning softly as his thumb continued to move, circling the taut peak.

  Nearly undone by the tormenting sweetness of her innocent moan, Brendon dropped his hand, sliding it to the back of her gown. Then, with deft fingers he quickly unfastened the line of hooks that held the two sides of fabric together, infinitely thankful that she wore no tightly-laced corset underneath.

  Lowering her arms so that her gown slid effortlessly from her shoulders Daphne trembled, not from fear, but anticipation. And when the thin straps of her chemise followed in the very next instant, she felt only the slightest hint of self-consciousness, but even that was fleeting and quickly overshadowed by the delicious thrill of expectation.

  Pushing both her gown and chemise to her waist, Brendon freed Daphne’s lush breasts. Then lifting hi
s head he opened his eyes, surveying the sumptuous bounty before him as he raised his hands to caress the full, pink-tipped mounds.

  Daphne’s breath caught as Brendon touched his hands to her bare flesh, stroking, massaging and fondling her breasts, then lightly squeezing and rolling her nipples between his fingertips. It felt good, better than good actually, she acknowledged, gasping softly as a feeling of intense pleasure began to radiate throughout her entire body. Good heavens, how was it she wondered that she had never known her breasts were so incredibly sensitive? But then, in the very next instant Brendon’s lips suddenly replaced his hands, obliterating any further rational thought from her mind.

  Fastening his mouth against her breast, Brendon drew upon the tender flesh, licking and suckling, using both his tongue and his teeth with utter finesse to flame her burgeoning passion and awaken her body’s inherent yearnings until he felt her sag against him, limp with desire.

  Her breath coming in short little pants, Daphne was lost in a maelstrom of sensation as Brendon’s hands moved to her waist, pushing her gown, chemise, drawers and petticoat downward until they fell to the floor, pooling around her feet. It was only when he stepped back and the cool night air touched against her naked skin that she regained a portion of her senses and forced her eyes open. He stood before her, his eyes traveling ever so slowly from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, the intensity of his gaze causing a sudden heat to warm her cool skin. It was somewhat surprising, for standing there completely naked she should have felt embarrassed and insecure, but his gaze was so blatantly admiring that she felt only the tiniest bit self-conscious.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” Brendon breathed as he gazed admiringly upon the young woman standing before him, a dewy, fresh faced ingénue with a body designed for sin. And in that moment he felt like the luckiest man alive. Then, noting the faint splash of color upon her cheeks, he realized that while she was gloriously naked, he was still fully clothed. “Would you like to undress me?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.