Page 48 of Dare to Risk it All

She answered his prayers, smoothing her hands down his chest and toying with the coarse hair there before diverting to circle his nipples. Gooseflesh prickled over his skin, his cock twitching impatiently for her attention.

“You want me to touch you there,” she said, an amused lilt to her voice.

“Only… Only if you want to,” he managed, somehow not resorting to pleading and begging, though the temptation was strong.

She looked back at him and lifted one elegant blonde brow. “You think I don’t want to?”

“I’ll likely cry if you don’t,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

She leaned in, her breasts brushing his chest in the most tantalising way as she whispered in his ear. “No tears.”

“Oh, thank God,” he said with a breath of relief as she curled her cool fingers about him.

“Like this?” she asked, giving him an experimental stroke.

It was clumsy, her grip not quite firm enough, but that didn’t seem to matter. Raphe made a choked sound, his hips canting up as she took his anguished cry for assent and stroked again and again, and he came in a rush of incandescent pleasure, his seed spattering over his belly and chest in a hot splash that made her gasp with shock.

Raphe fought to calm himself, to find words of apology for having lost control, for not having warned her. She was an innocent, and he’d…Selfish bastard! Only he’d been unprepared, had not realised how her touch would break him, would shatter every vestige of self-control he had. He opened his eyes, still dazed, hoping she would forgive him, only to find a smug smile curving over her lush mouth. Oh. He fell back against the chair, giddy with relief. The dreadful girl was pleased with herself. He gave a helpless laugh and shook his head.

“My God,” he said faintly. “My God.”

Chapter 13

Miss Knight,

I hope it pleases you to know I have done a great deal of swearing, in both English and French, and have kicked several items of furniture. The desire to confront the idiotic creature who has made you so unhappy is hard to resist. If it would not cause a deal of unwelcome gossip and speculation, I would not hesitate. Do not, I beg you, listen to the wretched woman. For one, you are not short and dumpy. You are petite and voluptuous. Not all men want their women to be skin and bone, you know.

I demand to see this appalling gown. I will be at Beverwyck from the night of the 7th, for the Christmas period and I understand you arrive the same day. Somehow, we must contrive a private meeting. I am certain between us we can think of some way to improve or destroy the monstrous thing before the ball.

Chère amie, allow no one else to make you feel less anything less than lovely. You are perfectly splendid, just as you are. Don’t forget it.

―Excerpt of a letter from Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen to Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight).

Early morning of the 14th of December 1840, Royle House, Derbyshire.

Raphe woke with a start, discovering Greer curled up on his lap. Her hair tickled his neck and chest, and he could not help the smile that curved over his lips, nor the joy in his heart.

Selfish blighter.

They had talked for hours about everything and nothing, and they had kissed. Long, glorious kisses. How strange for a man like him, who had believed there was nothing left for him to learn about lovemaking, to discover kissing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, but it felt that way. Everything was different with Greer. She made everything seem new and exciting, as though he experienced her discovery of each sensuous delight as his own.

She stirred against him, a warm huff of breath against his skin as she stretched and shivered. Raphe tugged her dressing gown closer about her shoulders and she blinked up at him like a sleepy cat.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice scratchy.

She smiled at him, and the power it had over him devastated him all over again, making his heart soar even as it made him afraid. He’d come so close to destroying himself and now the realisation terrified him. What if his friends had not cared enough to come for him? What if he’d never met Greer? His heart clenched, a sensation akin to iced water sliding down his spine.

“What is it?” Greer asked, noticing the sudden tension in him. “You’ve… You’ve not changed your mind, have you?”

Raphe stared at her, bewildered. “What?”

“About marrying me, I mean.”

“Changed my mind? Are you mad? Of course I’ve not—good Lord, Greer. I was only tormenting myself with how close I came to never knowing you. I shan’t change my mind. I only pray you don’t change yours.”

She laughed at that and settled back against him. “After how hard I worked to seduce you? I think not.”

“Oh, that was you doing the seducing, was it?” he asked, nuzzling the sweet spot beneath her ear that made her shiver.