Page 74 of Make Mine a Marquess

Her lips quirked with humor. “You still look like a pirate.”

“Do you still think of me as a rogue?” Her answer meant more to him than his teasing tone let on.

She hesitated, studying him from head to toe. His blood heated in awareness.

“No, not a rogue. A man.”

He offered her a glass of champagne and their fingers brushed as she accepted it. “Thank goodness,” she said. “How did you know?”

“The lemonade is horrid.”

She laughed, then raised the glass and drank. His gaze lowered to the smooth skin of her throat as she swallowed.

“Walk with me,” he said.

“My mother will have a fit.” She glanced inside the ballroom.

“Is that a no?”

She shook her head. “The ballroom is a crush, and a garden stroll is tempting.”

She was tempting and he wanted desperately to kiss her. Anticipation crawled through him as he remembered their kisses and the brush of her near naked and wet body against his in the lake. He wanted to feel her legs wrapped around him, her breasts pressed against him. God, what he wouldn’t give to kiss her here.

Now.

Instead, he offered his arm and tamped down his desire. Together, they descended the terrace stairs and into the gardens. The crescent moon hid them from view.

“The house party will end soon, and my family will travel back to Town.” Her voice was soft.

He’d already known this. The countdown to her departure had a different meaning to him now than when he’d first met her. Oh, he’d wanted to punish his cousin. He still did. Hatred had burned brightly in his chest when he’d seen Willard across the ballroom.

But the problem was, as he’d come to know Phoebe, he’d discovered that she meant more. More than just a chip in a game of hate. More than an attractive woman to be seduced out of revenge. Was Aram right? Was she beginning to fall in love with him? And what if she was? Would it change anything?

It couldn’t. He couldn’t allow it to be more permanent. Her future was bright. He was unworthy.

“Come to me tonight. To my room.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

“I…I…”

Beneath the moonlight, the facets of blue in her eyes changed to deep violet. It was enchanting, drawing him further into her spell. Powerless to resist, his gaze dropped to her lips. “I know you are to marry Willard. But I’d be a fool if I didn’t tell you how special you are. Or how much I’d like to kiss you again.” It was also part of his plan, had been all along. Then why did every nerve in his body tighten, his breath catch, knowing, in that moment, her answer meant everything to him?

A heartbeat passed, then two. She appeared to grapple with a question. She looked up at him. “Then kiss me.”

He stood stock still, knowing that if he obliged, his control would snap. He’d want to do much more than just kiss. He longed to lower her bodice, worship her magnificent breasts, then raise her pretty skirts and touch the silken smooth skin above her garters. To make her toss back her head in the throes of passion. To have her orgasm beneath his hands. Instead, he waited and watched. Whatever happened between them this night, it must be initiated by her.

Then, blessedly, she made the decision and took a step closer and placed a hand upon his chest. She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him.

At the first touch of her lips, passion roared in his head and pounded in his veins. Her tongue touched his lower lip, tentative at first, then she sucked his full lip into her mouth. His restraint snapped. Sweeping her into his arms, he devoured her. His tongue met hers over and over. She tasted like springtime and sunshine and everything he’d thought was lost to him years ago. His breath caught as she pressed against him, then she squirmed, and he wanted to lift her skirts and bury himself balls deep within her right then and there.

His lifted his head from her lips to kiss her neck and tease her ear with his teeth. He cupped her breasts, lowered his head into her luscious cleavage, and breathed in her fresh lavender scent. She arched her back and clutched his shoulders, offering more of herself to him. For a man who’d prided himself on self-control, his had rapidly slipped away. In its place, a fierce possessiveness consumed him.

“Phoebe.” He managed a guttural moan.

“Yes. Oh, yes,” she murmured against his lips.

“Come to my room tonight. No one need know.” His hot breath brushed against her creamy flesh.

He didn’t even realize he’d picked her up and had her pressed against a tree. Or that her bodice had been pushed down and her breasts were finally bared to his greedy gaze. He cupped each one and sucked a nipple deep into his mouth. Her gasp was bliss to his ears. Her abundant flesh was so sweet, and when she dug her fingers into his hair to pull him closer, a roaring lust raged in his veins. He’d combust. Right here in the gardens where they’d first met three weeks ago. God, he had to have her. Here. Now.