Page 57 of The Duke of Deceit

A low groan rose from him as he cupped her face between his palms, and this time when he kissed her, there was nothing about it that spoke of tenderness. It was a kiss of raw, yearning desire.

When she grew breathless, he tore his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers.

“If we hadn’t stopped,” he rasped out, his voice hoarse, “I would have taken your innocence.”

“I would have let you,” she returned in the same hoarse rasp.

“I know.” His shoulders slumped, and he squeezed his eyes shut as a look of pain darkened his face. “And that’s why I had to stop.”

Before she could argue, he kissed her again, and the taste of his regret was bittersweet on her lips. He stepped back and reached up to push her flimsy dress straps into place on her shoulders, then dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m a gentleman at heart, remember?”

She stared at him through tear-blurred eyes. The pain of his rejection overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t keep her voice from cracking when she countered, “I think I prefer the rake.”

She pushed him back and slipped off the ledge, pausing only to snatch up her discarded mask and cape before turning to leave. She didn’t care what he thought of her flight, if he would think her a goose or a coward. Oh, but she certainly was a fool! To fall for his charms a second time, only to be rejected again, and this time, when she’d been so certain she’d glimpsed true goodness inside him—

His arms encircled her from behind, stopping her.

She stilled immediately in his embrace.

“Dear God, Jessamyn…you have no idea how much I want to make love to you,” he murmured as he drew her back againsthim until she felt the hard bulge of his erection pressing against her bottom. “How it’s taking every bit of willpower I possess not to pull you to the ground right now, strip off your dress, and bury myself inside you.” He drew her hair aside so he could place his mouth against her ear. “Or not even bother with removing your clothes—just yank up your skirts, pin you against the wall, and take you right there, fiercely, until you cry out in passion and every burning ache of desire has been quenched.”

She closed her eyes and begged for mercy in the form of a whispered, “Lucien…”

His hands swept up her body, and God help her, she couldn’t stop herself from arching against him.

“I would lick my tongue over every sweet inch of you, exploring, tasting…” When his hands massaged her breasts, her body remembered the feel of his bare hands and mouth on her, and despite the layers of clothing covering her, her nipples hardened instantly. “Drinking you up until I had my fill of you, until I’d selfishly brought you all kinds of wonderful pleasures. Hours and hours of exquisite torture, my love, until I’d memorized your every precious secret place.” As if to demonstrate that promise, he stroked his hand between her legs. Instantly, a consuming ache beat once more beneath his fingers. “I would ravish you in every way imaginable and beg you to do the same to me.”

Yes!A sob of unbearable yearning tore from her.I want all that. I want you to—

“And I would ruin you, my beautiful Jessamyn.” His hold on her changed. His hand dropped away from between her thighs, and instead of giving her desirous touches, he now held her firmly clasped in his arms, as if he were trying to protect her, even from himself. “I would selfishly destroy all that is good and light and wonderful about you, and you would hate me for it.”

Her voice choked. “I would never—”

“Because I don’t deserve you.” He sucked in a ragged breath that left his body trembling in its wake. “Because I can never marry you.”

The anguish that pierced her nearly broke her. Somehow, she found the strength to utter the wretched truth—“Because you’re a duke, and I will never be part of your world.”

He corrected quietly, “Because I cannot marry anyone.”

Chapter Seventeen

Lucien sat inhis dark and silent study at Brixton House and stared blankly into the shadows, agonizingly counting off the minutes until dawn.

Not that he had anything which needed to be done at dawn. No, the rising sun would simply mean that he’d survived the night without throwing himself into the Thames.

“Empty threat,” he grumbled to himself. He knew he couldn’t kill himself. Not that he didn’t have the resolve to do exactly that, but his death wouldn’t solve any of his problems. After all, wasn’t he still suffering from his father’s misdeeds when the old man was even now rotting in his grave? And those who remained after Lucien would suffer his misdeeds, as well.

His discarded jacket lay on the floor where he’d dropped it, his cravat hanging untied around his neck, and his waistcoat unbuttoned. It was as far as he’d gotten in an attempt to undress himself before giving up completely and choosing to drink himself into oblivion instead. Even now a half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the desk in front of him, with a glass clasped in his hand. He’d lost count of how much he had drunk since returning home from Vauxhall, after walking a very angry, confused, and wounded Jess back to Lady Bromley’s box, when she hadn’t said a single word to him the entire way. Yet thewhiskey wasn’t enough to dull the pain squeezing his heart like a vise.

“Hell,” he grumbled, “all the whisky in Scotland wouldn’t be enough.”

He slammed the empty glass down onto his desktop, shoved himself to his feet, and began to pace. He couldn’t stay still. Too much fury and frustration boiled inside him, with no good way to release any of it except for the one way he knew he would never have—actually making love to Jess. If she didn’t hate him before…Christ.

He gave a bitter laugh. Surely, she hated him now anyway. God knew he certainly hated himself.

Damn her for discovering the truth about him! His blackguard façade was supposed to have kept people like her away. Why couldn’t she have been like every other unmarried miss and been terrified of him? Oh no. Not her.Shetook his darkness as a challenge. Which was what had drawn him to her in the first place, exactly because she was so unlike any other woman he’d ever known.

So damn himself for letting her invade his thoughts and creep under his skin.