Sinfully Delectable (Regency Four Book 2)

by Virginia Taylor

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  Deliciously Hazardous

  SINFULLY DELECTABLE

  Virginia Taylor

  COPYRIGHT VIRGINIA TAYLOR

  COVER BY LANA PECHERCZYCK

  WITH THANKS TO ROBYN BELLAMY AND KATE WHITE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  An apple, a temptress, and a man named Eden.

  When an unwanted duke offers for Della Hayden, she decides to use easy-to-tease Lord Eden Thornton, her handsome, adorable neighbor, as her fake betrothed.

  Eden, a mathematical genius, loves Della, and doesn’t mind being seen as an idiot by the musically talented debutante. Although he has always allowed her to run spirals around him, he decides to take a final stand.

  Win her or lose her, he has to show her the consequences of her thoughtless actions. Will Della finally see him as he is, or will he allow her sinfully delectable ways to ruin her reputation?

  CHAPTER ONE

  1819

  Adelita Hayden, alias Della Hayden, leaned back and took a huge bite of her apple. The satisfying crunch filled her mouth with the sweet, tart juice. She shivered with pleasure, unable to think of anything better than being in the orchard on a perfect summer day, sitting in a tree and watching the thin trails of clouds slowly reforming.

  A loud, deep masculine voice sounded through the orchard. “Della. I can see you if you think you’re hiding.”

  She had no reason to hide, but Lord Eden Thornton, whom she could see as a flicker of yellow approaching through the line of trees, was a master of overstatement. If he wanted to relax with her, now was the time. She had come here to be alone, but talking to him was comparable to talking to her conscience, anyway. Today, she didn’t want to think or to be careful about how she phrased her words, and Eden was the most relaxed person she knew. She couldn’t upset him if she tried. On his best days he was a delight, and on his worst, distracting. “Sorry, but I’m not here. I’m in the drawing room.”

  “No, you’re not. I looked there.” Dappled by the sunlight, he strode between the two nearest apple trees.

  Her handsome neighbor was a beautiful sight to behold. Today he wore a yellow jacket that echoed the color of his sun struck hair. His breeches clung to his muscular thighs and emphasized his lithe hips. She swallowed her last bite, and coughed, horrified by thoughts of hips and thighs relating to Eden who, although male, wasn’t exactly ... well, he was masculine, but not in her mind—until today. Today he looked manly despite his outrageously modish jacket. “Why are you wearing that thing?”

  “What thing?” He glanced down at his breeches, which took her eyes there again, and then quickly away. She certainly didn’t want her thoughts centered on his crotch, because that’s not the sort of friend she meant to be.

  “The yellow jacket. You look like a pineapple.” He didn’t look like a pineapple. He looked as utterly handsome and as perfectly fit as he was. Of course, she would never let him know she thought he was rather delectable. Not that the idea would go to his head. No ideas went to his head. Although the aforementioned was shockingly beautiful, his cranium was filled with complicated nonsense. She could only ever have a light-hearted conversation with him, but today being distracted by him suited her. “Pull off an apple.” She took another chomp.

  “Are you going to marry him?” Ignoring her invitation, he leaned his back against her tree, staring at the rows and rows of the others.

  “I haven’t decided.”

  “He’s a good chap.”

  “I know.” She swallowed a sharp, tangy mouthful.

  “And he’s a duke.”

  “Yes.”

  “Everyone wants to marry a duke.”

  “I know.”

  He looked up at her. “He’s also rich.”

  “Do I seem like a fortune hunter to you?”

  His gaze dropped and she couldn’t see his expression.

  She saw his shoulders lift. “You’re surely not in doubt?”

  “I’m rich too,” he said in an undertone.

  “Well, if I were a fortune hunter, I could marry you, instead.”

  “I didn’t offer for you.” His eyes met hers, upside down, because he had leaned right back to look at her.

  “You would if I wanted you to.”

  “Do you want me to?” He pushed off the tree trunk, turned, and aimed his cerulean blue gaze straight up at her.

  She shrugged. Of course, she didn’t. She liked him too much to inflict her moods on him. Today her body ached. She didn’t know what she wanted but she knew that she didn’t want the duke. He would expect too much of her. She would have to be a society hostess and gracious to all and sundry, and she didn’t need the sort of life that even her mother had rejected. All she needed from life was music. Tunes played through her head faster than she could finger the piano keys, faster than she could write down her ideas. “I would rather be your lover.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “You’re not supposed to mention lovers, Della. Even to me.”

  “You’re not in the least susceptible.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m quite human.”

  She laughed. “You’re divine, Eden. Sometimes I wish you were susceptible. You would be such a charming lover.”

  He sighed. “You’re in one of your exasperating moods.”

  “Yes, I know I’m maddening. You have a mistress but I can’t take a lover.”

  “And who said I have a mistress?” His voice sounded saintly, which wasn’t at all hard to relate to his angelic appearance.

  “She’s a prime one, Rydale says.”

  He shrugged. “He sees himself as a judge of courtesans because he doesn’t keep a mistress himself.”

  “I always thought he was fixed on Hebe.”

  “Well, the duke’s fixed on you. I expect in a few weeks, you’ll be betrothed too.” He focused on his tall, shiny boots. Viewed from above, his expression appeared downcast.

  “Perhaps I ought to have an affair before I’m rushed to the altar.”

  “An affair?” He found a speck of dust on the toe of his right boot, which he rubbed against the back of his other leg.

  “I expect you would have many affairs if your mistress wasn’t a ‘prime one.’”

  He shrugged. “While you are a composite one? I find composites interesting.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about but if he meant she was interesting, she would have to laugh. She was a tempestuous woman who would annoy the poor duke if she married a dull stick like him. He didn’t understand a word she said, but Eden did, and he sympathized whenever she needed a sympathizer. Hooking her leg back over the branch, she managed to slither down. Since he didn’t move away, her skirts snicked in his jacket buttons before sliding off and landing at her feet, while she clutched helplessly at his divinely broad shoulders. “Whew.”

  He breathed through his teeth. “Is it teasing Eden
day, again?”

  “All we need is an apple and the scene is set. Oh, my. I see have an apple in my hand. Take a bite.” She pushed the fruit close to his mouth.

  He palmed her hand away. His expression tightened. “One day you’ll go too far, Della.”

  “Today is the day. Kiss me, Eden. I’ve never been kissed and I don’t want the duke to be the first.”

  He eyed her with suspicion, focusing on her as if testing for the truth. “Never been kissed?”

  “I’m not going to repeat myself. It’s too humiliating to have admitted that once, let alone twice.”

  “In that case, I’m willing to kiss you. Then you will never have to say those humiliating words again. Hold your face up.”

  She pushed his shoulders. “If it’s not going to be a proper kiss, don’t bother. I’ve had pecks, of course. I want a romantic, passionate kiss.”

  He sighed with what would never have been impatience. Eden didn’t experience highs or lows. His steadiness was legendary. “You’ll have to help me. Tell me exactly what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  “There’s no need to be a martyr about this, you know. I’m sure the duke would be pleased to teach me.” She shrugged a casual shoulder.

  “I didn’t plan on teaching. I planned on kissing.”

  She glanced warily into his eyes. The man was filled with infinite patience. She couldn’t think of a single person who didn’t like him. About five years ago, he had turned up here with her older brother, who knew him from Oxford. Apparently, the twenty-one year-old was considering moving his family into an enormous property that had been left vacant for more than ten years, and Raimond thought he ought to show him around. Eden quickly had the place renovated and he settled in with his mother and two sisters, both of whom were still in the schoolroom. In all the years she had known him, he had never seemed put out. He had never complained about anyone, or joined in the gossip sessions. He didn’t criticize even the worst of anyone’s behavior. She knew this because she usually exhibited the worst sort of behavior, herself. And kissing her without teaching her anything would suit her very nicely.

  She put her arms behind her back and raised her face to him.

  He grinned. “I thought you wanted a real kiss.”

  “Well?” She closed her eyes.

  “It’s an art,” he said in patient voice. “It’s not just lips, you know. You give cheeks or lips to maiden aunts. You give much more to a man you are kissing.”

  She knew that. Eden was too adorable. “Position me, then. I want to get this right the first time, then I won’t have to kiss you again.”

  He lifted her left arm over his shoulder. “I’m not moving your other arm until you either finish that apple or throw it away. I don’t want the juice on my new jacket.”

  “Just one last bite.” She took an enormous crunch, which sent the juice down to her chin. Her forearm dealt with that, she swallowed, and tossed the apple back over her head.

  Before she could wipe her wet hand, he grabbed her fingers and slid her palm down the front of his shirt, swabbing off the juice before he lifted her second arm over his shoulder. “I should have done that on your own front but I was a bit worried about the hazards.”

  She hastily ran her tongue over her teeth, preparing to be kissed. “Hazards?”

  “Am I allowed to say breasts?”

  “No. Call them chest impediments.”

  “Your chest impediments,” he said, dutifully. “Now, move closer to me.”

  “I’m close enough to kiss you now.”

  “Yes, but not properly. You need to be this close.” He moved minutely, and she found herself right against his hard chest. This near, his cravat, the part of him closest to her eyes, smelled of ironed starch. For some reason, she didn’t want to angle her head and see his face. Her breath halted. She focused on the intricate folds of linen in front of her eyes and suddenly lost track of who was supposed to do what, or be where. “And now?” she said in a voice that she struggled to keep self-possessed.

  “Don’t talk. Let me concentrate. I think I put my hands on your behind at this stage.”

  Her gaze flickered up to his. “I’m quite sure you don’t.”

  “Really? Bear with me. Does this feel right?” He slid his arms to the centre of her back. One hand rested on the top of her spine, the other on the flat. His eyes met hers.

  She swallowed. “That feels ... well, quite nice, really.” Apparently she was still breathing. She didn’t expire, but time lengthened while she stood flat against his firm body, her heart thudding loudly enough for him to hear. She hoped against hope that he couldn’t, for she would never want Eden to think she had begun to see him as an attractive male.

  His artless grin eased her mind. Clearly, he didn’t have the same thoughts about her. “You need to look at me. Here goes.”

  He didn’t sneak up on her. One minute she was focusing on his eyes, the next minute his mouth was across hers. At first she stiffened, but she had asked for this because she knew she could trust him not to make this incident into a romantic encounter. She realized he didn’t press hard on her lips, but treated her mouth gently as if her kiss was something to be savored. He didn’t actually press in one spot at all, but moved his lips, making each new position a test, perhaps until he found the right fit. She concentrated, but concentrating while Eden was kissing her wasn’t quite as easy as she had imagined. At first, she could barely breathe, and not because he was smothering her, but because her whole body had become involved with what his lips were doing.

  She hoped her face hadn’t turned pink, because that would be too gauche, but her skin felt rather warm. Plus, her hands didn’t want to meekly occupy his shoulders. Her fingers slid into his silky hair and his mouth changed angles yet again. Somehow her lips had opened and she was trading his tongue for hers. Not only that, but her body was trying to mash against him, especially her nether parts.

  He showed no signs of stopping, but she had to. She had embarrassed herself and she needed to regain her dignity. So, she tugged on his hair.

  He lifted his mouth. “Yow. That hurts.”

  “Nice kiss, Eden, but you don’t know when to stop.” Her voice sounded wobbly.

  “I stop when I’m stopped. Didn’t I get that right?” His eyes gleamed a bright blue and the skin on either side of his manly lips twitched as if he had decided not to smile. “Shall I try again?”

  “I think I’ve had enough for today.” Her heartbeat a little too thready, she pulled out of his embrace, wondering if she had underestimated him. Perhaps he had known what she was doing, but he had gone along with her, regardless. He often did. “You’re sweet. And I mean that sincerely. I couldn’t have had a better first kiss.” And because she didn’t want him to know how much his kiss had effected her, she added casually, “I don’t expect I will need another lesson, do you?” She realized her last two words were unwise. Being Eden, he would answer truthfully.

  He shook his head. “Not a lesson, no. But if you want more practice, I should be available ... or, perhaps you would like me to make an appointment with you?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” she answered, wishing she sounded a little more wry. Instead her words sounded like a plea. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  He glanced around as if expecting a tea tray to arrive in the orchard. “Oh, in the drawing room? Yes, your mother is expecting you. She sent me out here to get you.”

  “And you just remembered?” She planted a fist on her hip.

  “Be fair, Della. You started kissing me and then I forgot.”

  Practically all she got out of kissing Eden, apart from his wonderful kiss, was the knowledge that he had actually noticed that he’d kissed her.

  * * * *

  Eden was never surprised when people thought he was imperceptive. In certain matters, he was. Before the age of ten, his grades had been embarrassing. He had been sent to Eton because his father couldn’t bear him underfoot. The other boys thought he was a fool, but
because he was big and excelled at sports, his brain didn’t seem to matter, well, not after his boxing skills had been demonstrated, and then his bruised classmates decided to accept him.

  During the term breaks, he had private tutoring to catch him up. He surpassed his peers in mathematics, though his reading and writing weren’t up to par. The problem for him was the lowercase B’s and D’s, and he always had to guess which was which, though he generally had no problems with reading whole words.

  Della took her idea of his brain-power from her brother, who joshed him about being dense, but not because he had a different way of learning facts. Raimond used the word because all his long time friends did, as a joke, rather like calling a tall man Shortshanks. However, he didn’t mind that Della thought he was an idiot because he could get away with so much more. Like the kissing experiment. If she had thought he was like Rydale or Langsdene, she wouldn’t have let him near her. She guarded herself from entanglements, which was why she had never been kissed.

  But, kissing her without passion had half killed him. His craving for her had increased by the year and had become outright embarrassing. She was zealous, outspoken, determined, and strong-minded, while he was none of those. He didn’t have any causes to fight or bones to pick. She seemed to be the part of him that he lacked. Other than that, he lacked little else and he was otherwise considered a good catch. His father had died when he was fifteen, leaving him with a title, a mother and two sisters, a satisfying income, a town house, and his grandparents’ country properties. His family currently occupied one of these. Della didn’t have much to fight either, other than her parents’ expectations of her.