CHAPTER EIGHT
Although Edward had always dismissed his Aunt Esmeralda’s prophecy of his ultimate march into the fires of the netherworld, he suddenly realized he might very well have taken a detour toward the proverbial path of hell.
It had not been an intentional detour, he reassured himself.
When Aldron the Pestilent had led him into the card room and settled him among the gathered gentlemen, it had seemed amusing to maintain his image of a bumbling buffoon. After all, the dashing blue bloods had been so painfully eager to ply him with drink and fleece him blind, he could hardly disappoint them.
And if he were not nearly so inebriated as they thought him to be, and if he was winning far more hands than he was losing . . . well, that was their bloody problem.
They deserved to be taught a lesson in manners.
But while Edward could convince himself that there was nothing wrong in deceiving Lord Aldron, and even the stranger who had come to haul him from the room, he could not pretend continuing the charade with Bianca made him anything other than a perfect cad.
My God, what sort of man would play a drunken sod simply so he could enjoy the feel of her arms about him?
His heart jolted as her fingers lifted to brush his hair from his forehead, her sweet breath brushing his cheek. Damn. He heaved a rueful sigh.
He was surely going straight to hell.
But for the moment, he could not make himself care.
“Edward.”
His lips twitched at her soft whisper. “Mmmmm?”
“Do you have need of anything? Perhaps some coffee?”
He covertly shifted closer to her soft curves. Oh, he was a horrible, horrible wretch.
“No, I just wish to rest here a moment.”
“Of course.” There was a pause before she heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Edward, I am very sorry.”
She was sorry? “Whatever for?”
“I—” She abruptly halted, as if carefully considering her words. Odd, that. “For you having to endure what passes as amusement for those idiots. They should be heartily ashamed of themselves.”
Edward briefly considered the near two hundred pounds he had managed to win before being physically hauled from the table. A smile curved his lips.
“I doubt shame is what they feel.”
She sighed. “No, I fear not.”
He shifted to study her pale visage. “Did you send in the rather large gentleman to rescue me from the den of iniquity?”
“The rather large gentleman is my cousin Alexander, Lord Calloway,” she admitted, “and yes, I did request that he collect you.”
“Why?”
“You are not yet accustomed to such entertainments. And . . .” Her voice trailed away.
“And?”
“And I believe those dolts wished to embarrass you.”
“Ah.” He held her dark gaze with his own. “You were concerned for me?”
She bit her bottom lip, as if reluctant to confess her feelings. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“As I said, you are not yet used to such entertainments.”
He reached up to grasp her hand. He would not allow her to evade him. Not when her answer was so strangely important.
“No, Bianca, those gentlemen no doubt fleece every greenhorn that arrives in London, none of whom I am certain you have gone to the trouble of rescuing.” He brushed his lips softly over her fingers, relishing the taste of her skin. “Why were you concerned for me? Could it be that you care, just a little?”
Even in the shadows of the room, he could detect the faint blush that stole beneath her skin.
“Of course I care. I hope that I can count you as a friend.”
Edward abruptly shifted and turned, managing to trap her in the corner of the sofa before she could guess his intent.
“Friend?”
She regarded him with a wary expression, no doubt sensing the tension humming through his body.
“Does that trouble you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Planting his hands on either side of her head, he allowed himself to drink in her exotic beauty.
“I would very much like to be your friend, Bianca, but that is never going to be enough,” he confessed in thick tones.
Her lips parted. “What do you mean?”
“I mean this . . .”
Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head. Every fiber of him longed to pounce and conquer. To take what he had ached to possess since he had caught a glimpse of her across the room. But he ruthlessly battled back his primitive instincts.
Stark, panting lust had its place, but this was not it.
Not with Bianca.
She was not just a beautiful woman that stirred his senses. She was the intriguing, maddening creature who was rapidly becoming an important part of his existence.
Allowing her ample opportunity to protest, Edward softly brushed his mouth over her own. It was no more than the merest touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of searing heat through his body.
Holy hell.
With a groan, he feathered kisses upon her mouth.
“I have wanted to do this for days,” he muttered.
“Then why haven’t you?” she whispered.
He shivered. She might be too innocent to realize the danger of the heat that smoldered between them, but he wasn’t. With every kiss it became more and more difficult to restrain the need to ease his aching passion in the sweet heat of her body.
“If you knew what I was feeling, you would not encourage me,” he muttered as he moved to explore her cheeks and the line of her jaw. She tasted of paradise. Sweet heaven. And he was quite certain he would never have enough of her.
She gave a small sigh of pleasure. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“God, I hope so.”
Sweeping his tongue along the curve of her ear he returned to claim her lips in a demanding kiss.
Beneath him Bianca stirred, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders even as her lips parted in welcome. Edward was swift to take advantage as he dipped his tongue into the moist heat of her mouth. Raw desire sparked between them, shimmering through his blood and hardening his muscles.
His breath caught in his throat as her tongue tangled with his own. Oh dear God, she was capable of making him forget everything but the need to know more of her.
His hands framed her countenance, his heart thudding against his chest.
Outside the room the music played and the guests enjoyed their foolish society games, but in the silence of the parlor nothing mattered but the feel of Bianca. This was right. Honest. And swiftly charging out of control.
“Muirnin, tell me to halt and I will,” he husked as his fingers stroked down the length of her throat.
Her hands shifted to tangle in his hair. “I do not wish you to halt.”
He pulled back to meet the hectic glitter in her dark eyes. “This is dangerous. More dangerous than you know.”
With a smile that sent a shaft of need straight through him, the vixen firmly tugged his head downward.
“Then teach me,” she whispered.
Bianca was innocent, not stupid.
She knew she was playing with fire.
Good heavens, she already felt singed.
But though the seemingly endless lectures she had received over the years on the subject of what was acceptable for a young lady of society had been drilled painfully into her head, her heart was not paying the least heed to them now.
Not when his kisses were making her head spin and his fingers were sending the most astonishing sensations racing through her body. Proper or not, she wanted to know more of the pleasure to be discovered in his strong arms.
Tugging his head down, Bianca heaved a soft sigh as his lips closed over her own. A heat that she felt to her very toes sizzled through her body. Everything tingled inside her. As if she were filled with the finest champagne.
She heard him give a low growl as his tongue swept between her lips, thrusting in a slow rhythm that was causing the most peculiar ache to clutch deep within her.
Instinctively she arched closer to the hardness of his body. She needed . . . something. Something more.
“Edward,” she breathed as his lips shifted to burn a trail of kisses down the curve of her neck. “Please.”
“I know, muirnin,” he muttered, shifting until he was off the sofa and kneeling between her legs.
Bianca was briefly shocked by the intimate position until his clever fingers tugged at the ribbons of her bodice. With satisfying speed he had tugged down her gown and then her shift, lifting her straining breasts out of her corset with gentle care.
Oh . . . oh, yes. He obviously knew precisely what he was doing.
“My God,” he breathed before he was leaning forward and tugging one hardened nipple into his mouth.
Bianca nearly swooned.
Who knew such pleasure existed?
Who could ever have suspected?
Her fingers clutched at his hair as she felt the stroke of his tongue and the rasp of his whiskers against her sensitive flesh.
“That feels so good,” she whispered.
“You feel so good. So bloody good.”
He shifted to attend to her neglected breast, teasing the hard bud with his teeth before closing his lips about it.
Bianca moaned as he leaned more heavily against her, his body pressed to the juncture of her legs. With every movement, he brushed against the vulnerable region, sending a jolt of breathtaking excitement racing straight to the pit of her stomach.
Her hands restlessly moved to stroke over his shoulders, delighting in the feel of his hard, rippling muscles beneath her fingers. He was so solid, so utterly male.
“Muirnin,” he moaned, lifting his head to bury his lips in the curve of her neck. “I want to please you.”
His breath whispered against her skin even as she felt the hem of her gown being tugged relentlessly upward. Bianca shivered as his fingers stroked over her silk stockings. Raw heat streaked through her blood.
“Yes . . . oh yes.”
She nearly leaped off the sofa as his fingers at last reached the bare skin of her thighs. Dear God. She felt as if she were on fire. As if she were suddenly simmering with molten lava.
Claiming her lips in a devouring kiss, Edward continued his soft caresses. His fingers stroking higher and higher. And then without warning he discovered the moist heat between her legs.
Bianca would have cried out in shocked pleasure if his mouth had not covered her own. Nothing had ever felt so wondrous as the clever finger that gently slid into her damp heat.
She grasped at his arms, her fingers digging into his coat as she instinctively arched against his invading touch.
With a slow thrust he pressed his finger deeper, using his thumb to rub against her sensitive nub. Oh lord. There was a pressure building deep inside her as his finger slid in and out of her. A delicious, aching pressure that was threatening to shatter her.
“Edward . . . please,” she husked.
She was not quite certain what she was pleading for, but thankfully Edward seemed to know precisely what she needed.
Trailing a string of searing kisses down her neck, he flicked his tongue along the line of her collarbone. The rhythm of his finger quickened as his tongue continued to swirl over her skin. And then, dipping his head, he latched his mouth onto the tip of her breast and suckled with sweet insistence.
Unaware she was even moving, Bianca wrapped her legs about Edward’s waist, her entire body arching. She was hovering upon the crest of a most astonishing sensation. Just for a breathless minute the world seemed to stop. A perfect, crystallized moment.
Then, with a magical stroke of his fingers, she was vaulted over the edge, and a cry of sheer delight was wrenched from her throat.
Blasted, blooming, bloody hell.
That had been . . . magnificent.
Still shaking from the force of her climax, Bianca was barely aware of Edward tenderly smoothing her dress back into order, or even joining her on the sofa to bundle her in his arms.
“Bianca?” he murmured softly.
Feeling oddly lethargic, Bianca allowed herself to rest against the hard planes of his chest.
“What?”
“Look at me.”
With an effort she tilted her head upward. “Yes?”
In the shadows, his countenance appeared strangely harsh. “Are you well?”
“I am not yet certain,” she murmured.
His arm abruptly tightened about her. “God, I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you.”
“Frighten me?” Bianca frowned in bewilderment. “I was not frightened. How could I be? That was the most thrilling thing I have ever experienced.”
His features slowly softened, but a darkness lingered in the hazel eyes.
“I very much wished to please you, my love, but I should never have allowed matters to go so far.” He heaved an unsteady sigh. “Perhaps the gossips are right. I am not at all suitable to be among proper society. Most certainly I am not suitable to be in the company of proper young innocents.”
Bianca’s frown deepened. She could not believe he would regret the moments they had just spent in each other’s arms. Not when she had felt him tremble with the same aching passion that had . . .
Realization hit with the force of a bucket of cold water. It was not regret. It was guilt.
Pushing herself from his arms, Bianca glared into the handsome countenance.
“You are not suitable because you did not recall to treat me as if I am a witless idiot with no notion of how to use the lump in my head some call a brain?” she gritted. “God knows I cannot possibly know if I desire a gentleman’s kisses or not.”
“It is not that.”
“Then what is it?”
He grimaced. “It is a gentleman’s duty to protect a lady, not take advantage of her.”
She met his male logic with a snort of disgust. It was just so predictable.
“Stop that at once.”
He gave a lift of his brows. “I beg your pardon?”
“You did not force yourself upon me.”
“Still . . .”
“No.” She poked her finger into his wide chest. “What I do, the decisions I make, are mine, not yours. I will not have you taking that away from me.”
He paused a long moment, considering her stark demand with his usual care. Unlike most men, Edward did not simply dismiss her as a frivolous creature without the ability to possess her own thoughts.
It was what she liked best about him.
Well, perhaps not best, she acknowledged with a blush.
“You are quite right, Lady Bianca.” A grudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And now that I consider the matter, I am not at all sure that I was not the one to be seduced. Perhaps I should be demanding satisfaction.”
Her annoyance faded beneath his teasing, and she offered him a flutter of her lashes.
“What sort of satisfaction were you considering?”
A flare of raw hunger darkened his eyes and sent a thrill of excitement racing through her blood.
“More than I should,” he growled, reaching out to enfold her in his arms. Lightly his lips brushed her temple. “I want you, Lady Bianca. I see you across the room and I can barely breathe.”
A shiver of answering awareness trickled down her spine. “That sounds most uncomfortable.”
“You cannot imagine. I am not a gentleman who is as a rule prey to such emotions.” He pulled back to regard her with a tender smile. “Anyone will tell you I am practical, dull, and not at all the sentimental sort. Indeed, most who know me would laugh at the mere notion that I could possess the finer sensibilities.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “But when you are near, muirnin, I begin to believe I could learn to be as foolishly quixotic as the most absurd romantic.”
Bianca’s warm, fuzzy drowsiness was suddenly laced with a chill. There was something in his voice . . .
A soft yearning that sent a rash of warning prickling over her skin.
He had told her that he was not like other gentlemen. He was not shallow or frivolous or inclined to toy with a woman’s affection. He did not attempt to seduce everything in skirts. Or even indulge in meaningless flirtations.
Instead he was frighteningly sincere. And quite incapable of hiding his emotions.
He would always wear his heart on his sleeve.
A heart he would readily allow to be broken by an uncaring female.
Bianca struggled to her feet, smoothing her skirts with an awkward motion.
“I have been gone far too long. We must return before we are missed.”
Lifting himself from the sofa, Edward studied her with a somber gaze. He was far too astute not to have sensed her rapid retreat, but thankfully he did not press her for an explanation.
A good thing, considering she wasn’t sure she possessed one.
“Very well.” He reached up to tug a stray curl into place. “I think it best if I leave first and ensure that there is no one lurking about. If I do not return within a few minutes, you will know that it is safe to follow.”
She swallowed a strange lump in her throat. “Yes.”
“Bianca—”
“Edward, you really must go,” she hastily interrupted.
His eyes darkened as if he were frustrated by her obstinate refusal to discuss whatever it was upon her mind. Heaving a faint sigh, he placed a gentle kiss on her brow and turned to walk toward the door.
Watching as his large form disappeared from the room, Bianca pressed her hands to her stomach.
The moments she had spent in Edward’s arms had been magical. Earth-shattering. And something she could not convince herself to regret.
But while a part of her reveled in the pleasure Edward had taught her, another part could not deny that their relationship had irrevocably changed.
Just what that meant for the future, Bianca was uncertain.
But she did know she had better figure it out before she managed to wound Edward in a manner she never intended.