Wicked Temptation

by Carole Mortimer

  If Pru had thought she would be saved further embarrassment once they were seated at the dinner table, then she was wrong. Her mother, in her infinite wisdom, had decided to utilize the small family dining room this evening rather than the more formal room usually reserved for when they had guests. Because her mother now believed Titus to be a part of that family?

  No matter the reason, Pru found herself seated directly opposite Titus at the small oblong table, with her parents at either end. Pru suffered his proximity as they were efficiently served wine, the soup, and main course by Mayberry, previously the under butler, but having now stepped into Parker’s place as head butler. None of the family could bear the thought of bringing a stranger into the house.

  Romney engaged her father in conversation as they finished eating the main course. “Do you have any plans to return to Bedfordshire soon?”

  “That will depend upon…developments here,” the earl replied lightly.

  Pru was about to demand what developments when she felt a stocking-covered foot pressing against her ankle. Titus’s stocking-covered foot.

  Although, there was no outward appearance of his subterfuge as he continued to converse with her father. “Of course.”

  “A Christmas wedding might be nice,” her mother offered as Mayberry served dessert.

  Pru gave a startled squeak as that stockinged foot now traveled the length of her calf.

  “Perhaps that is a little too far away.” Her mother misunderstood the reason for Pru’s distress. “Next month, then?”

  “I do not—” Pru broke off with a gasp, becoming completely befuddled as that silk-covered foot caressed along the length of her inner thigh before coming to rest on the heat of her mound.

  “I spoke to the Prince Regent after leaving here this afternoon,” Romney announced. “He has very kindly granted Pru and me a Special Marriage License. I intend talking to the man at St. George’s Church tomorrow so we can be married next week.”

  “I am not—” Pru groaned as a marauding toe entered the slit in her drawers and pressed against her nubbin.

  “Next week?” her mother echoed in alarm. “I do not see how we can we possibly be ready by then.”

  “Pru only needs a gown. The one she is wearing this evening is perfectly suitable.” Romney gave a dismissive smile—as if his toe were not presently rubbing between Pru’s thighs, stimulating her clitoris to hard and aching attention. “What Pru does or does not wear to our wedding is completely irrelevant to me, as long as she is my wife at the end of it.”

  To anyone else—to her parents?—Titus’s comment might sound like that of a lover eager to marry, but Pru was not fooled for a moment. Titus wished to get the foolishness of their wedding out of the way so that he could concentrate on what was really important to him: identifying and arresting the traitor to England. No doubt he believed his offer of marriage to her to be another—misguided—way of protecting her.

  “You—” Pru did not even have the breath to squeak as the soft pad of Titus’s toe tapped against her nubbin and heat coursed through the whole of her body.

  “But what of the wedding breakfast?” Her mother frowned.

  Romney’s brows rose. “I had thought, in the circumstances, you would prefer the wedding be a quiet affair.”

  “I— What circumstances might they be?” Pru managed to splutter, her cheeks burning now.

  “The recent death of your sister and butler, of course,” the viscount answered evenly, his toe now gliding up and down the moist and sensitive length of her nether lips.

  Pru closed her eyes briefly at the pleasurable sensations coursing through her body. “Of course.”

  “I will naturally go along with any plans you care to make,” Romney told her mother before glancing at Pru. “You are looking a little…feverish, my dear. Are you feeling quite well?”

  She felt more than a little feverish, damn him. She felt as if she were on the brink of climaxing. “I believe I might benefit from stepping outside for some air and leaving you and my parents to enjoy their dessert—”

  “No,” the viscount stated emphatically. He gave Pru a warning glance before continuing mildly. “I believe it is raining outside.” He glanced at the butler and received a nod of confirmation. “Perhaps a stroll about the entrance hall might suffice instead? With your permission, sir?” He looked to the earl without so much as consulting Pru as to his arbitrarily changing her plans.

  “Of course, of course,” the earl returned jovially.

  That left Pru with no option but to go along with the suggestion. Besides, the entrance hall would do as well as anywhere to tell Titus what she thought of him and his reprehensible behavior this evening.

  Mayberry pulled back Pru’s chair for her, effectively allowing her to escape those intimate caresses beneath the table.

  Romney had obviously replaced his evening shoe as he also stood to move about the table to take a light grasp of her arm.

  Pru narrowed her gaze on him as they stepped outside into the cavernous and candlelit entrance hall. “I take it you decided we would walk inside because there is still a murderous assassin outside?”

  His jaw clenched. “Yes.”

  She gave a shake of her head. “How many more people have to die before you and your friends succeed in apprehending him?”

  “That is slightly unfair, Pru.”

  “Is it?”

  He frowned his irritation. “We are doing all that we can to put an end to this treachery.”

  Pru knew she was being a bit unfair. After all, it could not be easy for any of The Sinners, most especially the Duke of Stonewell, to know their investigations might lead to his own wife being arrested for treason and murder.

  She eyed Romney curiously. “Have you really been to the Prince Regent and acquired a Special Marriage License since you left here earlier?”

  “Yes.”

  Pru gave a pained wince. “Did he ask the reason why?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Romney shrugged. “Presumably, he realized there are very few reasons why we might wish to marry so quickly.”

  “We do not wish to do anything of the sort.”

  His lips thinned. “Nevertheless, we are going to do so.”

  Pru gave a shiver at the implacability of his tone, tears welling in her eyes at what seemed to be the futility of continuing to argue against marrying him. It seemed even the Prince Regent was against her.

  “You are cold.” Romney quickly drew off his evening jacket to place it about her shoulders, instantly surrounding Pru with the warmth and the distinctive aroma that was Titus: spicy cologne and male musk. As usual, her senses reacted to that seduction, her breasts tingling, the nipples engorging, the slickness increasing between her already sensitive thighs.

  Titus frowned as he saw Pru’s discomfort in walking. “Are you sore from our lovemaking earlier?”

  A blush colored her cheeks. “A little.”

  “Would you like me to kiss it better?” he offered gruffly.

  She gave a rueful laugh. “This is hardly the place for that. Besides,” she added before he could make a reply, “I believe it was your previous kisses which led to my present dilemma.”

  Titus was more inclined to think it was because they could not keep their hands, or anything else, off each other. But he doubted that Pru would appreciate him making that observation. “Perhaps a little salt in your bath might help?”

  Pru shook her head, the color still high in her cheeks. “I have already tried that. It eased it a little but not completely.”

  “Then perhaps a distraction?”

  Her gaze sharpened. “I believe I have had quite enough distraction for one day.”

  Titus chuckled. “One can never have enough distraction.” At least where Pru was concerned, he did not seem able to do so.

  It had been sheer torture sitting opposite her at the dinner table, able to look at her but unable to touch. Until he came up with the idea of re
moving his shoes and caressing her with his stockinged foot. That he had very much enjoyed. “Would you parents notice, do you think, if we went upstairs to your bedchamber?”

  “The question is entirely rhetorical because we are not going upstairs to my bedchamber,” Pru stated firmly. Although she had reason to believe her radical-thinking mother would no doubt applaud Pru’s daring if they did.

  “Then where else can we go so that I might have the privacy to kiss you, at least?”

  Pru’s heart leaped in her chest at the intensity of Romney’s tone and expression, her stomach fluttering wildly. “You are not going to kiss me. In fact,” she continued triumphantly as an idea occurred to her, “I have decided there shall be no more kisses, or anything else, until the traitor is found and arrested.”

  Romney’s brow darkened. “Once you are my wife—”

  “Our marriage will change nothing.” Pru might come to regret this decision, wanting Titus as much as she did, but she felt a need to take back control of her own life. “If I am to be bullied and coerced into this marriage, then I shall at least have a say in its future.”

  Romney’s scowl deepened. “Refusing to share a bed with your husband is more than having your say!”

  “Then we will have the marriage annulled.”

  “I shall be sharing your bed if your refuse to share mine.”

  “Then you will have to divorce me,” she challenged. Divorces were rare and usually took years to accomplish, but they did happen.

  He reached out to grasp her arm and turn her to face him, allowing Pru to see that he really was angry. “Is the idea of marriage to me so abhorrent you are talking of divorcing me before we are even wed?”

  Pru felt flustered by the question. The truthful answer was she could imagine nothing she would like more—would love more—than to be Titus’s wife. But the circumstances under which it was to happen were far from ideal. “No more abhorrent than it must be for you to be forced into marriage with me.”

  “Do you really think me a man who would allow anyone or anything to force me into doing something I do not wish to do?” he bit out between clenched teeth.

  Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you—” The clanging of the front door pull, quickly followed by a loud and persistent knocking on that wooden structure, prevented her from completing that question.

  A loud and urgent knocking, which demanded an immediate answer.

  Chapter 14

  “Your father and I found the arrival of Romney’s visitor yesterday evening, followed by his hurried departure soon after, to be slightly…alarming?”

  Pru wondered what her mother would say if she knew the whole story of why Romney had come into their lives in the first place. Not that Pru could or would tell her mother any of that. “I believe he was needed urgently on—on a family matter,” she dismissed, the two ladies once again comfortably ensconced in the countess’s private sitting room.

  Her mother’s brows rose. “Surely what family he has is retired to the country for the winter.”

  “Well. Yes. But all in Society know that The Sinners are more family to each other than any of their blood relations.”

  “So it was one of The Sinners who needed him so urgently?”

  The truth was Pru had no idea why Titus had left so abruptly yesterday evening after going outside to speak with whomever had been knocking on the front door of her family home. Romney had returned only long enough inside the house to offer his apologies to her and her parents and a promise to speak with her the following day before he had hurried off into the night.

  It was now after luncheon the following day, and Pru had neither seen nor received word from Titus as to what the emergency had been the previous evening.

  Pru rose abruptly to her feet. “I believe so, yes,” she answered noncommittally.

  “But you do not know for certain?”

  “Not for certain, no.”

  “Darling—”

  “Mama,” she interrupted firmly, “I know you to be an intelligent and perceptive woman—”

  “Why, thank you, darling.”

  “That being the case,” Pru continued, “I believe you to also be aware that all is not…not as it seems in regard to Cilla and Worthington dying in a carriage accident and then Parker and Romney having been shot.”

  The countess eyed her ruefully. “I am, yes.”

  “Father too?”

  Her mother smiled. “I did not marry your father only because of his good looks and ability in the bedchamber.”

  Pru did her best to shut out the images in her head that followed that remark. “I believe Romney’s hurried departure last night to be connected to those deaths.” But she did not know that for certain, because Titus had not confided in her.

  She would not be kept in the dark this way once they were married—

  If they married.

  Pru sat abruptly in the armchair she had only recently vacated. She had done nothing but think about the reason Titus had left so suddenly, and about their possible marriage, since he’d left her the previous evening. The first she was sure she would hear about in good time. But she was still concerned as to whether Titus had made the offer of marriage because of their lovemaking, or possibly as another way of giving her his protection. Neither seemed a good basis upon which to embark upon a marriage.

  There was their undeniable physical attraction to each other too, of course, but how long would that last? How many months, possibly weeks, before Titus tired of making love only to his wife and went off in search of fresh bed partners?

  Pru did not wish to be one of those long-suffering Society wives, sitting at home with her embroidery before retiring to her cold and lonely bed, whilst her husband wallowed in whatever den of debauchery happened to be his particular choice for that night.

  Loving Titus as she undoubtedly did, she could not bear to live a lifetime of such unhappiness.

  If Titus did not or could not love her, then it was better if they did not marry at all—

  “Viscount Romney is downstairs asking to see Lady Prudence,” Mayberry announced from the doorway.

  Pru rose to her feet for a second time in as many minutes, her breath seeming to have become lodged in her throat.

  “See him in your own little parlor, darling,” her mother advised gently as she stood. “You can talk privately there.”

  She shot her mother a grateful glance before turning back to the butler. “If you wouldn’t mind, Mayberry.”

  “Of course, Lady Prudence.” He bowed out of the room.

  “Go, darling.” The countess gave Pru’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “And do not do anything hotheaded out of a sense of misplaced pride.”

  Pru smiled ruefully. Her mother knew her far too well. “I will try not to, Mama.”

  “I suggest you try harder than you usually do,” the older woman cautioned.

  “It is only that Titus has this…ability to rouse my temper, and then I end up saying things I did not mean to say.”

  “But he also arouses you in other ways. Try to remember that when you feel your temper getting the better of you.” Her mother gave her an encouraging smile.

  Pru was calm and composed and standing near the window of her own private parlor when Mayberry announced Titus before promptly bowing out of the room.

  “That is a magnificent pose,” Romney drawled as he strolled farther into the room. “The light behind you turns your hair to gold, and the material of that gown is just thin enough for me to be able to see the delicious outline of your body beneath.”

  Pru’s cheeks flushed at his having immediately realized exactly why she was standing where she was. “State your business and be on your way,” she snapped her displeasure, at the same time as she offered a silent apology to her mother for having once again allowed her temper to get the better of her.

  “My business, my dear Pru, is you.” He crossed the room with the stealth of a predator, until he stood only inches in front of her. He looke
d resplendent in a dark blue superfine and dark gray pantaloons, a diamond pin adorning his snowy-white neckcloth. “Always you.”

  Her chin rose in challenge. “I have definitely decided I shall not marry you.”

  “Have you, indeed,” he murmured softly. “Then it is as well my will is stronger than your own, and I decided some time ago that we should marry.”

  Pru looked at him askance. “How long ago?”

  He shrugged. “The idea has occurred to me several times, but I believe it was while I lay abed here after being shot, watching you guard and defend me like the lioness you are, that decided me once and for all.”

  “But we only— It was only yesterday that I—”

  “That we,” he corrected huskily. “Do you really believe I could not have halted your seduction if I had wished to do so?” he cajoled. “Admittedly, removing my cock before releasing proved to be a challenge beyond me,” he added self-derisively. “But prior to that, I could have stopped our lovemaking at any time.”

  “Then why did you not do so and avoid our current predicament?”

  His mouth curved into an enigmatic smile. “Have I told you how magnificent you look when you are angry?”

  “Is that the reason you enjoy rousing my temper so often?”

  His smiled widened. “Oh no, my dear Pru. I do that because I know lovemaking usually follows one of your outbursts. I find I have become addicted to both.”

  “Nonsense,” Pru snapped briskly, stepping out and away from his proximity. His seductive proximity.

  The things Titus was saying to her were…tempting, so very tempting, but they did nothing to change the fact he still had not mentioned the word love. She could not and would not marry a man who did not love her and would turn to other women the moment the novelty of their marriage wore off.

  She stood in front of the unlit fireplace. “Why were you called away so urgently yesterday evening?”

  Titus dampened his disappointment at Pru’s change of subject. It was perhaps better that they get these other matters out of the way before he strengthened his campaign regarding the arrangements for their marriage.