The Care and Taming of a Rogue

by Suzanne Enoch

  The sensation of him inside her simply had no words. His weight, the scent of him, the slide of his bare skin against hers—she’d never known anything like it. And immediately she had no idea how she’d ever gone through life without it.

  “How do you feel, nyonda?” Bennett asked, beginning a slow, rhythmic thrust and retreat.

  She tangled her fingers into his hair again, pulling him closer against her. “Ruined,” she panted, tilting her head back as his pace increased.

  “Put your legs around me.”

  His words were cut off, short, the rising tension in him flowing through to her. As she locked her ankles around his thighs he seemed to move even deeper inside her, and she moaned again, shifting to grip him around the shoulders.

  She could feel every inch of him, tight and hot and exquisite. When he kissed her again, warm and openmouthed, the deep pull began in her once more. He sped his thrusts until they seemed to meet the hard, fast beat of her heart. Their gazes locked, and Phillipa dug her fingers into his back. Then it happened again, that exquisite release, and she moaned breathlessly.

  Muscles flexed, their bodies seeming to merge into one writhing, heated, hungry beast. Faster, harder, deeper—and then with a fierce low growl he pressed into her, his eyes closing and pure ecstasy etched on his lean face.

  Breathing hard, he lowered his face against her neck. Phillipa stroked her fingers along his back, memorizing his contours and the flex of his muscles. “So this is what you meant,” she managed, “when you said you would woo me.”

  He shook his head, lifting up to meet her gaze. “No. This is desire. Wooing has a different aim.”

  She closed her own eyes, wondering if she’d ever be able to move again. Delicious. “Which aim?”

  Bennett kissed her softly. “Marriage, nyonda.”

  “Marriage?” Phillipa squeaked, her pretty brown eyes widening. “You didn’t just say that to keep my father from clubbing you with the fireplace poker?”

  Bennett shook his head. Still inside her, resting most of his weight on his elbows, he reflected that most people would think he’d gone mad. Better than three years in the Congo with very limited female companionship, lovers here and there around the world as he’d traveled, and now he’d decided on marriage to essentially the first woman he’d set eyes on since his return to London.

  But he hadn’t decided it today. Sex with her had simply confirmed that he’d made the correct decision. By God, she’d been worth ten years of traveling across three continents.

  “I didn’t walk over here for a proposal,” she said. “And you asked me whether I wanted to participate. Don’t feel obligated.” She pushed at his shoulder. “Truly. Don’t.”

  “Have I ever said anything to make you believe that bedding you would be the end of my interest?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have to sound so begrudging.”

  “I’m a bit…overwhelmed.”

  At least she didn’t sound suspicious or hostile any longer. He reluctantly pulled away from her and sat up, grabbing for a rag to clean himself off. “What stage of courtship have we entered, considering two bouquets of flowers, a drive in the country, two dances, and a recital? And sex, of course.”

  Phillipa scooted on her pretty bare bottom back against a shelf so she could sit up. “You can’t count the first bouquet, because you didn’t follow the rules.” She smiled briefly. “This shouldn’t count, either, but I find that I’m unwilling to discount it.”

  “Well, that’s something.” Bennett shifted onto his hands and knees and pursued her, stopping only when he was close enough to touch her soft lips with his. “It all counts, Phillipa. I’ve told you from the beginning what I want of you. But I haven’t proposed to you. Yet. If you want me to follow the rules, I’ll send you more flowers and take you driving every morning.”

  She kissed him back. “The rules are for your benefit, you know. You can’t walk about London swinging an axe through propriety. Not when you’re trying to recapture your reputation.”

  “And now we have your reputation to consider, as well.”

  When she lifted one hand to stroke his cheek, he leaned into the caress. Bennett couldn’t fault her for being concerned about his reputation, but she had to realize that he was equally concerned with hers. He would proceed as slowly and carefully as he could, but in the end someone would find out that she was no longer a virgin—especially when he didn’t intend that this should be anything less than the beginning of their intimate relationship. She was the one. He knew that as well as he knew anything.

  While he waited for her to conjure a logical reply to his concern, she sat forward and brushed her lips against his. She retreated, then closed again, her tongue flicking against his teeth—a delicate, exquisite promise of future ecstasy. Good God. It was a promise he intended to have her keep, and at the next, earliest opportunity.

  “Speaking of reputations, what will you do when you run across Captain Langley? You know it will happen.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Sex isn’t the only thing with which I have a considerable amount of experience.” He lifted one hand. “I can kill a man with my little finger, you know.”

  She chuckled, taking his finger and pulling it into her mouth. Oh, that was enough of that. He was taking her again, immediately.

  “We should—”

  The loud squawk directly outside the door startled both of them. Tiny hands yanked at the door handle, hammering and clawing, as Kero shrieked at the top of her lungs.

  “Damnation,” he hissed, leaping for the door. Geoffrey could be following the monkey. At worst, half the kitchen staff had already heard and were running to the larder to investigate. “Get dressed,” he snapped over his shoulder, yanking aside the broom and pulling the door open a crack.

  Kero leapt through the opening onto his bare shoulder, and he swiftly closed them inside again. The vervet bounced up and down, barking in distress, while he dove into the pile of clothes to find his jacket and the peanuts he carried in one pocket.

  “Here, Kero,” Phillipa said softly, holding up an apple from one of the myriad barrels.

  The monkey stopped making noise in mid bark, then jumped from Bennett’s shoulder to Phillipa’s. The vervet took the apple and climbed onto one of the shelves to begin obliterating it.

  “Very nicely done,” he said, grinning at Phillipa even as he bent down and tossed her the dress. “And you looked very lovely for a naked chit with an apple and a monkey on her shoulder. Paradise’s Eve.”

  She smiled back at him. “Likewise, except for the bit about being a female.”

  Bending down again, he reached for his discarded trousers. “We’d best hurry. I doubt that anyone could miss hearing that.”

  “She’s not jealous of me,” Phillipa noted, stepping into her gown and wriggling her hips as she drew it up over her waist.

  The sight of her wriggling made it difficult for him to shrug into his pants. Of course he’d bedded women before, but this was…different. His fingers didn’t tingle or his breath catch from simple lust. He should be sated, he supposed, and he did feel satisfied. But underneath that, he wanted her again. And again. And again.

  “Why is that, do you think?” Phillipa prompted.

  He shook himself. She was clearly thinking again, and he needed to catch up. “I’m not her mate,” he replied belatedly. “I’m her mother. She’s still young, but I don’t think her perception of me is going to alter. I hope not.”

  “So do I. I have no desire to get my hair pulled by an angry monkey every time we’re together.”

  Bennett caught her arm, turning her around so he could fasten the buttons up her back. Leaning in, he breathed the citrus scent of her hair. “Does that mean we’ll be seeing each other naked again?” he asked, kissing the nape of her neck.

  “Mm. Perhaps you might bring me some lilies,” she said, smiling slyly as she looked over her shoulder at him.

  Lilies. Not precisely a declara
tion of undying love, but then he hadn’t precisely proposed. Yet. As he pulled on his boots, the door handle dipped. Someone pushed, but the broom held. Thinking quickly, Bennett yanked on his shirt. “Hold a second. Kero’s made a shambles in here.”

  He motioned Phillipa to turn over the bottles along the closest shelf, and she silently complied while he buttoned his waistcoat and yanked on his jacket. After he’d scattered a few apples across the floor, he noisily pulled aside the broom and allowed the door to open.

  Geoffrey and Hayling both stood looking from him to Phillipa to the larder. “Lady Phillipa and I were in the garden chatting when we heard Kero screeching,” Bennett explained. “We followed her in here, but she’s apparently even more fond of apples than I realized.” He scooped up the monkey and hoisted her into his arms.

  Phillipa bent down and picked up the apples he’d just scattered. “I’m just thankful she didn’t rip open the flour sacks during her rampage.”

  “I’ll see to that, my lady,” the butler put in, motioning them both to leave the larder.

  “We were playing hide-and-seek,” Geoffrey said, looking woefully at Kero, “and then I hid under a blanket. When I jumped out, I think I frightened her. Will she still like me?”

  “Give her an hour or so to forget, and I imagine you’ll be fast friends again.” After a hesitation, Bennett ruffled the boy’s dark hair. Geoffrey hadn’t been deprived of his parents, but Bennett very clearly recalled how welcome a kind word from an adult would have been at that same age. “Lady Phillipa, we should go find your maid,” he continued, offering her an arm.

  He held his breath until her warm fingers closed around his sleeve. “Yes. We no doubt frightened poor Mary half to death when we began running to the house.”

  Once they were outside, she slowed and pulled her fingers free. “My family received an invitation to Lord and Lady Thrushell’s party welcoming Captain Langley back from his book tour. They accepted it without asking me.”

  Bennett narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t invited. Funny, that.”

  “I would imagine that Langley will do everything possible to stay away from you.”

  “If he’s wise, he will. But I don’t intend to wait for him to stumble across me.” He shook himself. Thoughts of justice and revenge could wait until he wasn’t in the company of a very compelling young woman. “Thank you for telling me about the party.”

  “I told my mother I wouldn’t be attending,” she said, “but then I thought you might be able to use me as a spy.”

  “You don’t need to spy for me, Phillipa.”

  She smiled. “Bring me some lilies, and I will consider it an even trade.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The water roiled in front of me. As I lurched back, the great beast surged forward—twenty feet of hungry crocodile. I had no time to aim my rifle, so I dove sideways, thwacking the animal hard across the eyes with the butt of the weapon. The predator clearly didn’t expect to be attacked in return and it retreated, giving me time to get ashore and realize that my shirt sleeve was missing. Thus is the difference between life and death in the Congo; the thickness of a cotton shirt.

  THE JOURNALS OF CAPTAIN BENNETT WOLFE

  I don’t appreciate you befriending Geoffrey behind my back.”

  Bennett looked up from brushing down Ares. Fennington, dressed in a quality blue jacket and gray waistcoat and trousers, stood in the stall entrance. With a frown, Bennett glanced toward the stable’s wide doorway. It was dark outside. He’d lost track of time again, after a ten-mile ride across London and cooling down the big gelding. That was another thing he didn’t understand about the peerage—their nearly completely sedentary lives.

  “He’s my cousin,” he said aloud, dropping the brush into a bucket and straightening. “Do I need your permission to converse with him?”

  “I won’t have you speaking against me.”

  “If I have anything to say against you, I’ll do so to your face. I have no need to wield children as weapons.” Bennett scooped the dozing Kero off a bale of hay, then stopped. “Are you on your way to Langley’s gala?”

  The marquis frowned. “Yes. It’s nothing against you, Bennett. The captain and I are partners.”

  “The captain and I were partners. Don’t turn your back on him.”

  “Bennett—”

  “I’d like to join you,” he interrupted. “Will you give me a few minutes to change my clothes?”

  “You weren’t invited,” his uncle countered, following him out of the stable and back into the house.

  “Yes, and why is that, considering that I’m a former companion presumed dead? I haven’t said a word against him since my return.” Not in public, anyway.

  He heard the marquis’s heavy breath. “Guilt, I would imagine. What about your friend? Won’t Lord John Clancy allow you to use his invitation?”

  “Jack offered. He even said he would decline the invitation if I asked him to. I thought it would be more…seemly, I suppose, to attend with my relations. I am staying under your roof, after all.”

  “Or you could remain here tonight.”

  He’d thought about that as well. Langley, however, had to know by now that he was back in London. This hadn’t been an oversight. David likely meant to use the opportunity to encourage the view that he had led the expedition to success, and that Bennett was superfluous. Bennett didn’t intend to allow that to happen.

  And of course Phillipa would be there, as well. And knowing her, if he didn’t appear to defend himself, she would more than likely charge in to do so. Though he appreciated the support, he didn’t want her to be put in that position. Not for him.

  “I could simply arrive unannounced,” he mused. “They might attempt to keep me out, but if I make enough of a stir, I suppose I’ll make my point. Or a point.”

  Fennington regarded him for a moment. “We’ll wait for you.” In fact, his uncle followed him up the stairs and down the hallway to the bedchamber he’d been given over.

  Kero had fashioned a mound of pillows—apparently taken from throughout the house—into a nest of sorts beside the bed, and he plopped her into the center of it. His wardrobe had increased slightly over the past days, but he knew his uncle still considered it woefully inadequate for a gentleman during the Season. During his first days back in London he hadn’t given a damn what he looked like or how anyone else perceived him, but recently he’d altered his opinion. Phillipa felt awkward in public, and he had no intention of adding to her discomfort.

  She’d asked for him to behave like a gentleman, and with several rather large stumbles, he’d been attempting to do so. On the other hand, she’d never said a word about his appearance. It more than likely hadn’t occurred to her any more than it had to him. But it mattered to the people around them, and after the fiasco with the roses he’d realized that he had to win over her parents with nearly as much care as he’d been using to win her.

  “What’s made you decide you don’t hate me?” his uncle pursued, shaking his head at the contents of the wardrobe but otherwise keeping silent.

  “I don’t have time for it.”

  “So schedule permitting, you would continue to detest me?”

  Bennett glanced over his shoulder, then went back to dressing. “I detested you when you couldn’t be bothered to take me in twenty years ago. And yes, it made me angry that when you’ve wanted so little to do with me in life, you were quick to step in for a share of the profits after I was presumed dead.”

  “I did n—”

  “I reckon I’ve made my own way in the world, and I will continue to do so. Don’t stand in my way where Langley is concerned, and I’ll attempt not to ruin your reputation as you’ve allowed him to injure mine.”

  “I see.” Fennington shifted, then settled against the door frame. “And this is why I should allow you to share a coach with your aunt and me tonight.”

  “And your invitation to the party. Don’t forget that.”

  “Yes, it’s al
l about self-preservation for me. You might have told me instead that you’re attempting a reconciliation, so that I would be more likely to support any action you take.”

  “Should I have? Phillipa keeps telling me I need to learn better manners.”

  “You should listen to her.”

  “She keeps telling me that, as well.”

  He pulled on a dark gray jacket and walked back to Kero’s nest. Lowering his arm, he clicked his tongue at her, and she swarmed up to sit on his shoulder. The knife already rested in his boot, though his uncle might have forgotten that fact. Bennett hadn’t; whatever Langley was or wasn’t likely to do in a room full of people, he wasn’t going anywhere near Langley House empty-handed.

  Five minutes later he was in the coach, letting Kero stand on his knee and chitter at the sights they passed in the dim light of streetlamps. He sat back, declining to join the chat between his aunt and uncle. Even though Lady Fennington had been helpful with the daisies, he had nothing in common with her at all.

  “I was chatting with Lady Timgill this morning, Bennett,” she said unexpectedly. “And I thought you should know that people are talking about you and Lady Phillipa. She said that Lady Jersey said the sister would be a much more suitable match. What’s her name?”

  “Olivia,” Bennett supplied.

  “Yes. She’s lovely. And very sought-after. Phillipa seems…pleasant enough, but, well, she’s bookish, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Be cautious. It would be dreadful if you were to be matched with her in everyone’s eyes simply because she’s read your books.”

  A week or so ago Bennett would have told Lady Fennington exactly what he thought of her opinion and her tongue-wagging friends. This evening he gave a noncommittal nod. He’d brought roses to Phillipa, and she’d fainted. He would follow the steps she wanted, and those steps did not include informing his gossiping aunt of his intentions.

  “You know,” his aunt continued, “this would be the perfect time for you to marry. Although your…behavior in the Congo lacked a bit of bravado, everyone loves a wedding.”