Page 41 of One Night with a Rake

Why was he waiting?

Oh. Something wilted inside her. Anne.

She worked both her arms between them and pushed against his chest.

He rose up on his elbows and looked down at her, but still didn’t push himself all the way into her.

“Nate, I have to know. Did you and Anne ever…” She couldn’t finish the question, but she didn’t need to.

His mouth gaped and he blinked hard.

“I just…I just want you to remember that I’m not Anne.”

Sixteen

Anne. She hadn’t entered his mind in days. He mentally flayed himself. You worthless shite.

Nothing else so aptly described a man who was supposed to love Anne forever, only to have her fade from his consciousness completely.

And even more importantly, he’d allowed her to be replaced by her sister in his imaginings, a sister he was within inches of deflowering.

He pulled out and sat up, not bothering to close his gaping banyan. His cock’s head was wet with Georgette’s sweetness, and the musky scent of her arousal made his groin throb. His body roared at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin her now, despite his deal with Mr. Alcock.

He’d been conflicted enough before, wracked with an unaccustomed attack of conscience. That was why he’d closed his eyes, not because he was imagining Anne. She never entered his mind. All he could think of was Georgette and what he was about to do to her. He couldn’t even look at her, though he ached to watch Georgette melt under him.

He couldn’t bear to watch himself take her when she trusted him so.

Now he really couldn’t. Not like this. Not with Anne’s shadowy specter hovering over them as well.

“I thought since your eyes were closed, you might be imagining you were with her instead,” Georgette said softly as she pulled her night shift down to cover her slender legs.

The suppressed pain in her tone squeezed his heart, but he forced himself to hurt her more.

“There’s nothing to imagine,” he spat out. “Anne died a virgin. And if you want to remain one, you will leave me immediately.”

She did up her shift, pushing each little mother-of-pearl button through the hole with shaking fingers. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she had missed one and was doing up the string of buttons in crooked fashion.

Twisted and out of balance. Rather like his soul.

“I didn’t mean—” she began.

“I didn’t mean it either,” he said roughly. “Not any of it. But if ever I take your maidenhead, I’ll damn well know who it is I’m rutting. Now get out of here.”

She gasped as if he’d slapped her. The sound rent his heart, but if she stayed much longer, he’d be on her again. And this time he wouldn’t stop.

“Be gone,” he growled.

He was relieved out of all knowing when she did. Georgette flew out of the library, not even stopping to scoop up her discarded wrapper.

After the last of her footfalls faded into silence, Nate picked up the bit of silk. He buried his nose in it, hoping to clear his head with her clean scent.

It didn’t help.

He was afraid nothing would. There was no way out of this tangle that didn’t involve deceit and unfair advantage and more than a little risk to all hearts involved.

His own included.

Nathaniel was a master of the sword. He’d never expected to lower his guard enough to allow a wicked thrust like love to slip into the situation.