Evan was nearly crawling out of his skin before he could make his way through the silent house to the north wing. He’d had to sit through dinner. Once Gilbert was safely led away to the drawing room, Evan still had to sit through the serving of port and through his uncle reminiscing about working with Susanah’s father in Parliament.

He’d tried to excuse himself once. Uncle Phillip had forestalled him by pointing out his guests had been traveling since the early morning hours. He really should leave them to their rest this evening.

Evan bit the insides of his mouth and refrained from pointing out that all of them were used to staying out all hours in London. Although, he’d noticed a bit of slump in Lord and Lady Ashton’s posture. Susanah, of course, wouldn’t allow herself to betray tiredness.

Then his uncle insisted they should have a normal evening so Gilbert wouldn’t suspect anything, which meant hours in the drawing room playing cards. But that had stretched on forever as if Gilbert sensed something was up and wasn’t about to let Evan out of his sight. But by then, Evan was going insane. He wondered if Uncle Phillip was deliberately torturing him. Or if he was the one who truly didn’t like his routines upset.

Then he’d had to ask his man to find out which of the dozens of suites had been prepared for the Ashtons. The housekeeper would have put Susanah close to them to make it easier on whichever maid was charged with seeing after their guests’ comfort. If he was to go to her room, he had to be somewhat discreet or he would be castigated as the rankest of villains. A man didn’t violate the sanctity of a guest in his own home. He didn’t seduce a newly married woman in his own house.

Still, he had to know why Susanah was here.

Did she need his help?

Or was it more? Did he dare hope that she wasn’t wed yet and she was here to accept his offer?

The questions swirled in his mind as he wove his way through far too many corridors and rooms to make it to the opposite end of the house. Because the fortified manor house had been added to again and again, it had become a rabbit warren, redolent with history instead of practicality. He did his best to dodge the few servants still tending to duties. Even if they were sworn to secrecy about Gilbert, he didn’t want anyone knowing he was sneaking into Susanah’s rooms. Finally, he was outside of the Queen Anne rooms and the thin bead of firelight flickering under the door told him, he was in the right place. His pulse galloped, and his stomach turned.

He tapped softly.

And heard nothing.

He waited for what seemed like an eon. Had she gone to bed? Was she asleep?

The hell with it. He wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t know why she was here—there was no way that he believed that they had just been in the vicinity and decided to call while on her ridiculous trip to meet Farringate. Had she run away? Did she need his help? He turned the knob and cracked the door. “Susanah?” he whispered.

She moved into the middle of the room backlit by the fire. She drew to a sudden halt. She wore a long white nightgown, and her hair was down. She looked ethereal with the firelight giving a golden shimmer to her glorious hair. It was so long it skimmed the back of her thighs. His breath caught.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said folding her arms across her middle.

“I had to wait until midnight, didn’t I?” he said lightly. Not wanting their conversation to carry, he slipped into the sitting room and shut the door.

Her pearly teeth worried her lower lip and he wanted to soothe it. “Is it only midnight? It feels much later.”

It was later. Perhaps half one, but he wasn’t about to take out his pocket watch and check. She shifted, and the firelight outlined her slender form. Desire slammed into him. He sucked in a deep breath as if it had been a physical punch.

He should offer to leave or allow her time to dress if she preferred. But the question that had been hammering in his brain all evening begged to be asked. His voice was rough and husky. “Why are you here?”

There were all kinds of answers he wanted. He wanted her to say she’d reconsidered and wanted to be his wife. Surely, that was the only reason she’d come all this way, the story about Lord Farringate being called away to deal with some kind of crisis aside.

Or was it too late? Her parents would never have let her leave if she wasn’t married. He needed her to tell him it wasn’t too late.

“You promised to teach me p-passion,” she whispered. Her chin lifted, but he couldn’t make out her expression in the dim room with the fire behind her. “I don’t think you’ve taught me everything.”

Something cold ran down his spine at the same time heat raced to his cock. It was an odd thing. Unlike when he’d stared at Annabelle earlier, desire was never far from his mind when he thought about Susanah. He wanted her lithe body and her pert breasts, but more than that he wanted the hidden parts of her that she didn’t share with anyone. He wanted a piece of her soul. Would she give him that or just the use of her body? “Yes.”

“You said that you’d make me beg you to ruin me.” Her eyes were wide and glittered in the light. “I could not bear the idea of Lord Farringate…touching me…”

In spite of everything, he’d closed the distance between them. The last time they’d been together she’d thrown her arms around his neck. He didn’t realize how much he wanted that until she didn’t do it. But she had wanted something from him too. Not his proposal, but the pleasure and passion he’d implied all along that he would show to her.

He’d tried being circumspect and a gentleman, but she’d wanted a rogue. Hell, he was done with resisting. Done with paying homage to her innocence. He was done denying the urges that had begun the minute he put his hand through the tear in her dress and touched her stays.

He ran his hands up her arms. Her flinch kept him from jerking her to him. He still had questions, but he wanted her too much to turn away.

The fates must be laughing up their sleeves at him. He’d spent years treating women as objects of his desire with no meaning or promises beyond momentary pleasure in his seductions. It was perhaps only fair that Susanah only wanted him for sex. She didn’t want to bear his name or live by his side.

“I know you don’t want me”—her breath shuddered out—“the way you want other women.”

“True.” He didn’t want her the way he’d wanted women in his past. He wanted her to be his wife. He wanted all of her. He wanted to make love to her in every sense of the word. Even so, if it was too late, he didn’t want to know. He wanted to pretend that this night meant so much more. That it could be a beginning. He couldn’t risk asking questions when the answers might break his heart.

But he wanted her too much to turn her away.

* * *

Susanah was appalled that he’d admitted he didn’t desire her as he desired other women. It made her feel shredded into tiny bits. She should have asked him if he was still willing to marry her. Or if he would marry her without knowing if she would still be an heiress once her parents learned of what she’d done. But he’d taken so long to come to her room that she’d given up and donned her nightgown and went to bed. She suspected she knew the answer to her questions, but to hear it out loud would be unbearable.

“Susanah,” he murmured into her hair. He pulled her against him. His body was so warm and familiar. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life.”

She didn’t believe him. After all, he’d looked at Annabelle in a frank and appraising way just hours ago. It had been enough prurient interest that Ashton had stepped closer to his wife. Evan had flirted outrageously with his dance partner at Almack’s. But Susanah didn’t want to quibble. It was the kind of thing he probably said when seducing a woman.

“Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked softly.

She nodded. It was only a small part of what she wanted. But she wanted him in a huge way. Her knees were wobbling, and she was shaking. Fear and need tumbled around in her and made her feel more alive than she knew what to do with. Maybe she would find the courage to press for more in the night. If they were to be intimate, perhaps it would be easier to ask the questions or to confess her hopes.

“Say it, darling. I need to hear you say it,” he said tightly.

“Yes, I want you to ruin me.” Such simple words that barely scratched the surface of her bone-deep need.

He bent and scooped her up as if she were no more substantial than a child. A jolt of surprise and something more titillating whooshed through her. Then he strode toward the bedchamber. The only thing she could do was wrap her arms around his neck and hold on.

Reaching the edge of the rumpled bed, he gently eased her down. “I need you more than I need air to breathe,” he said.

The whispered words made her ache because she so wanted them to be true, but she knew they weren’t. She didn’t inspire that sort of passion in anyone. But while they were what she wanted to hear, the words cut deeply. She pressed her fingers against his lips. “Don’t talk.”

“Susanah,” he protested, pulling her hand down, then brushing his lips against hers in a soft gentle kiss. It was like the joys of heaven and the temptations of hell all rolled into one. He stroked her hair back and studied her with an intensity that made her falter.

She felt so raw and exposed. Could he see how much she’d hoped for him to say he’d marry her, he’d take care of her, and he’d love her until the end of time?

“Don’t ask me not to speak.”

“Just tell me what I need to do to…to…please you.” Her face fired and she had to look away before she blurted out that she loved him.

Evan gave a low frustrated growl. “Darling, the way to please me is by allowing yourself to be pleased.”

She didn’t know what that meant.

But he’d stood up while she remained on the bed. She had a horrid moment of fearing he would leave. She reached out for him.

He tossed off his jacket and his cravat. Those items and his waistcoat landed in a heap on the floor. He unbuttoned the falls of his evening breeches and then they fell to the floor. She couldn’t help her gasp as she realized what this meant.

He paused giving her a questioning look.

He was staying. He would finally show her the keys to passion. A shudder rolled over her and her mouth went dry. Trying to pretend that she was ready, she scooted to make room for him beside her.

“Don’t go too far, darling.” He lifted his shirt to loosen the tapes of his small clothes.

“Should I take off my nightclothes?” she blurted. Then she winced because it seemed so abrupt.

His lips twitched. “They are coming off at some point. Now would be wonderful.”

She shivered and reached for the buttons at her neck. Suddenly there seemed to be too much light in the room. Because the lamp beside the bed was still lit. She wasn’t ready for this. It would require too much of her. She wanted to flee, but she wasn’t certain her legs would work.

His hand over hers stopped her fumbling fingers. “If you are ready.”

As if sensing the change in her, Evan sat on the edge of the bed then swung his legs up beside her. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed as if to reassure her. Her heart leapt at the way he responded to her moods although she didn’t think she’d betrayed herself outwardly.

Just as quickly as her urge to flee had sprung, frustration washed over her. She wanted to see him shed his underclothes. She wanted this. She’d wanted it from the first moment she thought he was about to kiss her in that stairwell so long ago. He made her blood sing in a way no other man ever had.

He reached across her and straightened the bedclothes or rather moved them out of the way. “You must tell me if I am too hasty for you.”

She shook her head. Before he arrived, her mind had been in such a whirl of thoughts, fears, and humiliation. He’d taken far too long to come to her room for her to believe that he wanted her. If she had been in his position, she couldn’t imagine anything would have kept her away for so many hours.

Still, he was here now, she reminded herself. Their meetings had always been after midnight. And if passion was all he was willing to share with her, then she had to show him she could be passionate. But the thought of failing overwhelmed her. She didn’t know what she was doing, he hadn’t kissed her—really kissed her—other than that one night in the conservatory. What if she disappointed him? What if he found her breasts too small? Her body too childish?

What if he was no longer willing to marry her? She couldn’t ask. A lady didn’t ask a gentleman to marry her, but she could ask for him to seduce her—to finish teaching her the lessons in passion that he promised. That had never been expressly forbidden in her lessons on decorum.

“Susanah,” he said jarring her attention back to him.

A rush of wanting flooded through her. Her skin tingled, her nipples tightened, and her thighs clenched. If just his voice had this affect on her, what would his touch do to her?

“You’re not allowed to think of embroidery or any thoughts you use to distract yourself. Be here with me now.”

She nodded. He knew how she thought, how she managed to get through without her emotions being exposed, but he wanted her emotions. He wanted wild and wanton. “It is overwhelming. But I want this. I want you.”

He gave a low growl as he flung off his shirt, slid down his smalls, and then kicked them away.

She closed her eyes. Instinct, really. A lady didn’t look upon a naked man. But then she drew her courage, rolled to her knees, and pulled off her nightgown.

His sharp intake of breath drew open her eyes. He knelt on the bed before her. He was taking in her form, but his gaze lifted to her face. “You’re beautiful, Susanah. So very beautiful.”

“So are you,” she said. His chest was broad and strong with a smattering of dark curly hairs in the center, pointing down to his thick, upward pointing, instrument. Then she felt a flush steal over her. He probably didn’t want to be called beautiful. She couldn’t look too long at that male part of him, although it was beautiful in a way—and so very much larger than she’d expected from the nude statues she’d seen.

Instead, she forced herself to look in his eyes. She spent a minute trying to figure out what shade they had claimed. More green than brown, but his pupils were so wide and dark. His look was more serious than she’d expected, more intense.

He caught her hands and brought them to his chest. “You can touch me, darling.”

“Yes.” She flattened her palms against him, the warmth of his skin burning through her. “Would you kiss me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. But he caught her face in his hands and brought it toward him. “I want to do a great deal more than kiss you, you know.”

She nodded. She wanted to believe that he desired her—at least enough to see it through.

“I want to touch you.” He brushed his lips across hers, so tantalizingly. She tingled everywhere, but mostly in the private place between her legs.

She nodded again. Her heart thundered.

With one hand he skimmed down her back as he gave another teasing brush of his lips. His caress didn’t stop at her waist. Instead, he cupped the curve of her backside.

“Here,” he added. Then he nipped at her lower lip.

She shivered then nodded. No one had ever touched her there, but his hand felt lovely and did strange things to her insides.

His other hand moved down her neck and over her arm until he skimmed the tip of her breast with his thumb. “And here.”

A jolt, achingly sweet and intense, shot through her. She gasped with surprise. He caught her gasp with his mouth, but too quickly he backed away.

“And here.” His hand slid down to the light brown patch of hair on her mound. “And everywhere in between.”

She nodded. Feeling that if he were bound and determined to touch her all over, then she should do the same to him. She slowly slid her hands down his chest. His muscles were hard and smooth. His stomach was ridged, and it quivered ever so faintly as she dragged her fingertips across it. She drew in a deep breath and reached for that last little bit to trail her fingers down that male piece of his anatomy.

His rod beneath the silky skin was hard as steel, but the skin was so lovely, the texture of rose petals. She just wanted to rub her fingers over it again and again. “It’s so soft.”

“Hardly,” he objected. His voice sounded slightly strangled.

“I meant the skin.” A flush crept up her cheeks. He probably wouldn’t want to be compared to rose petals either. But she looked up, expecting to see him trying to not laugh at her. Instead, his lips were parted and his expression spoke of thin control. Was she evoking the same wild jolts in him that he seemed to know how to do to her? A shudder rolled through her. Then an errant thought broke through. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“Far from it,” he growled and leaned toward her. “But you better save that for later or I won’t be able to teach you anything about your own pleasure.”

He pulled her hands away and brought them up and over his shoulders. He breathed slowly and deeply for a minute as if to regain control of his faculties.

“After I touch you everywhere. I will kiss you…everywhere,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. “And here.” His fingers moved ever so slightly dipping into her folds, evoking a sharp sweet burst of intense sensation.

“No!” she exclaimed before the sensations his touch aroused slammed into her. She lost her breath. Everything coiled and tightened within her. Her legs clenched as if to hold onto that sweet, aching sensation.

His hand slid to her hip, wrapping around the jut of bone as if to steady her. But at the same time, her mind reeled as much from the sensations he knew how to make her feel, but from what he’d said he would do to her. Her body was interested, but the idea was appalling. “Not…”—she didn’t really have a word to describe that place on her body—“there.”

His lips moved to within a hairsbreadth of hers. “Most certainly there.”

Then he kissed her more determinedly. Her mind swirled with objections, but she couldn’t voice them because that would interrupt the real kiss that had seemed forever in coming.

He laid her back against the sheets and covered her body with his. His skin against hers was shocking in its intensity. So warm and sensual. She couldn’t help her gasp.

He drew back a little as if to measure her.

But she reached up to pull him down to her.

“You are lovely,” he murmured as he ran his fingers across her shoulders.

He kissed and touched with sureness. He seemed to have some plan he intended to follow. Some sampler he was stitching with a pattern only he knew. And each stitch was a colorful riot. Then she lost the thread of her thought as he nibbled at her neck in a way that made her want to coo. Between kisses, he whispered encouragement and tender words of admiration—all but the one thing she wanted him to say. But she refused to think of that now because it only made her want more, and she was being greedy enough.

He touched her everywhere but avoided the places that made her body burst with sensation. His touches started soft and then turned firmer as if he was experimenting to find the pressure that suited her best. But she liked it all. When he kneaded her buttocks, it made her want to wriggle against him. When he trailed his fingertips over her stomach, her flesh quivered. And when he skimmed his palms over the edge of her breasts, she went mad with wanting. She twisted trying to get him to touch her tightened nipples. The intensity that had scared her a little in the beginning, she now craved with a passion that couldn’t be denied.

“Do you mean to toy with me all night?” she burst out at one point.

He grinned. “Only half of it.”

She decided turnabout was fair play and began mimicking what he was doing to her. In so much as she could imitate his caresses and nipping kisses. That only made the ache between her legs grow tighter as she learned that she could evoke groans and shudders from him, too.

* * *

Evan didn’t think he could bear it if Susanah flinched as she had often done when he’d reached to touch her. So he’d told her what would happen as he made love to her. He knew he’d shocked her. But he wasn’t taking a chance. This might be the only time he ever had to be intimate with her, and he wasn’t about to leave out anything. Especially not if it might bring her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. Especially if he could touch something deep inside her soul. Especially if it might persuade her to stay with him.

He wanted to know her, everything about her, every place that made her shiver. Every way to caress her that made her arch. Every way to kiss her that made her moan. Except the little minx was figuring out the same with him. He hadn’t really allowed for her maidenly sensibilities to be cast aside so quickly.

Then again, he wasn’t about to complain about her finding ways to make him shudder, in spite of her nimble fingers making it difficult to ignore the burn of desire. But he wouldn’t rush this.

She was more responsive than he could have hoped for. Although at the same time he could see that it embarrassed her. But all of it only made him love her more. This side of her was his. He may not be able to claim her, but he got the gift of her hidden, uninhibited desires. This gift of her awakening was something that he would hold in his heart forever because he knew how precious it was.

And, oh heavens, her breasts weren’t even big enough to fill his hands, but they were so responsive. He wanted to “toy” with them the rest of the night. However, it wouldn’t do to let a lady get too impatient. So for one last time, he licked and nipped at her cerise nipples, which had started a much paler pink, and then trailed kisses lower. He forged a path along her stomach. She trembled and moaned a protest.

He grinned as he tongued the indentation of her navel.

“I can’t reach you,” she muttered as she started to sit.

“Later you can touch me.” He planted his hand in the middle of her chest and pushed her back into the pillows. He kissed lower, inside the edge of her hip.

She tensed and went very still. He’d touched the petals of her sex some, very lightly only giving her tiny snippets of what was to come, partly because she would flush and go tense with uncertainty. But she was ready. Her folds were slick and swollen. Even if she wasn’t certain, he knew what she needed. He knew what he wanted to give to her.

He nipped at her slender thigh, marveling at how well formed she was. A pocket Venus. Or at least one to him. He kissed down to her knee and started up the other side. He was too impatient to go all the way to her toes this time. This time. There may only be this time. His throat tightened.

He couldn’t think about that now. He needed to think about her pleasure and nothing beyond it. And the way she was pressing her knees together amused him and made his feelings even more tender. He nipped the inside of her hip and then brushed his mouth across her belly just under her navel. “Open your legs for me, darling.”

Screwing her eyes shut, she let her legs fall apart just enough he could shoulder them open the rest of the way.

He wanted to take his time and look at her hidden treasure, but he was mindful of her maidenly sensibilities. No doubt, this was a lot for her to take in. He opened her with his fingers and then gave a couple of gentle nips. When he hit the right spot, her hips bucked.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her thin whisper was squeaky.

He lifted up reaching for a pillow. “I’m not. Do it again.”

She stared at him with eyes he’d swear really were lavender. Her mouth rounded.

He spent one minute leaning toward her face. “You’re beautiful, my love. Your response is amazing. I love…it.”

Bloody hell. He’d nearly told her he loved her. His chest ached at the thought that she might not want his love any more than she’d wanted his proposal.

She clutched at his shoulders and didn’t look away. There was a bit of panic in her eyes, but passion, too. “I feel as if I am coming apart.”

“You are supposed to,” he soothed her. “Just let it happen for me. I’ll catch you. Trust me, sweetheart.”

“But you…”

“I am enjoying every second of being with you, darling.” Hell, his release had never been in doubt from the moment her slender fingers touched his cock. It wouldn’t take much more of her experimentation to see to that.

So he tucked the pillow under her hips and slid lower on the bed. By all that was holy, he loved her. Loved the taste of her, loved the way she responded to him, and he loved the way that she was concerned about his pleasure. The words I love you pounded in his body, in his head, and in his heart. He loved her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

But even if she loved him, she no doubt valued duty more. But he would make her come apart so that every day she would think of him and that the cost of duty was too dear.

Her release came with her startled cry.

And he wanted her. His own release was too long held. He knew it was knavish of him, but while she was still in the throes of her orgasm, he gave her a last chance to stay him. Instead of saying him nay, she opened her arms to him and said, “Please go on before I float away.”

“You’re not floating away,” he said with a husky laugh.

“Are you certain?” she asked and opened her pale eyes. They were most certainly lavender. She smiled a real smile, combined with sleepy looking eyelids. Need slammed into him.

She wiggled her hips, and he drew in a sharp breath, desire cascading through him.

His control was broken and he was shaking as he tried to go gently. Her flesh was slick and so warm and she was still in such a state of ease that her body’s resistance was easily breached. She gave a tiny mew. His effort to assess her well-being was thwarted by the insistent pressure of her slim fingers on his backside, drawing him deeper. Then she found a sensitive spot in the small of his back. She curled her still quivering legs around his buttocks and wrapped her limp arms around him.

He tried to find a slow, steady pace, but he was undone. And she was magnificent. Her little gasps and moans piled onto his need to claim her and make her his. Then she was shivering and straining against him, her core tightening around his cock and driving him to madness. He tried to hold back and give her enough time to climax. Then she was shuddering and gasping, her inner muscles squeezing rhythmically.

His orgasm came over him like a tidal wave, roaring and pounding down on him. It was like drowning, dying, and tasting sunlight at the same time. A mass of swirling sensations and ecstasy flooded through every fiber of his being. Through it all, she was everything; his anchor and his buoy, his hope and his despair, his other half, his lady love.

For long seconds there was only the rasp of their harsh breathing. He had to look at her, to see her. He forced his body that didn’t want to move up onto his elbows. Her swollen lips were parted as the air moved in and out. He pressed kisses to her closed eyelids. Then one to the corner of her mouth. She turned toward his kiss, but he moved back, all the while stroking her hair back from her face.

“How are you?” he asked.

Her eyes blinked open. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this…nice.”

Nice wasn’t exactly the word he was looking for, but from Susanah, it was just the sort of restrained word she’d use to mean a whole lot more. Then again it just made him want her again—although he didn’t want to make her sore. Besides he was spent.

“What you expected?” he asked.

Her brow knit and he smoothed out the furrows with his thumb.

“Did I disappoint you?”

“Of course not,” he answered startled she could think that.

A hint of wariness crept into her beautiful eyes.

He didn’t like it. Moreover, there was a skeleton in the cupboard that they needed to address. He couldn’t wait any longer. “Why Farringate?”

Her gaze shifted off to the side. It was a cut deeper than any that could be made by a knife. His ears roared with the flush of blood and anger.

“I didn’t have a choice,” her voice so warm a minute ago was stiff with propriety. “Lord Hull told me I was a fool.”

“What else did he tell you?” he demanded, hoping against hope that she might have been willing to lower her standards in the lord department.

“Nothing,” she said with a wide-eyed shake of her head.

He levered himself off of her, their bodies uncoupling with a little pop. “And here I thought you might be willing to settle for a mere baron instead of an earl.”

He couldn’t stay because he wanted to shake her, to yell at her, to make her see reason, but mostly because he was half afraid he’d break down in front of her. A man just didn’t do that.