To Desire a Wicked Duke (20 page)

Still, Tess reflected, it was best that she hold strictly to her plan to avoid Rotham’s bed and avoid temptation altogether.

It was the following evening after dinner when her willpower was tested. She had just repaired to the drawing room with Rotham, Fanny, and Basil, when Hiddleston nervously informed them that a mysterious light had been spied in the castle’s west tower, shining from one of the topmost windows overlooking the cove.

Rotham and Tess quickly led the way to the tower, accompanied by Hiddleston and Tess’s two footmen, Miles and Fletcher. By the time they reached the upstairs chamber, it was dark and only a slight scent of burned candle wax remained.

Obviously no apparition had lit a candle, but an exhaustive examination of the entire tower and roof offered no clues as to the culprit.

Fanny, however, cleverly made use of the threat to advance her romance by exaggerating her fear of
ghosts and pleading with Basil to share his room for the night.

The courtesan whispered her plans to Tess before they retired for the evening. “I don’t want to be too forward with Basil, so I won’t attempt to seduce him. I only want to make him feel manly by protecting me.”

Tess approved, although she was not afraid to sleep alone. That is … until she became the ghost’s target herself.

She fell asleep without much difficulty, but sometime in the middle of the night, she dreamed that Rotham was stroking her cheek. When a low whisper came to her, the discrepancy puzzled her. The rough voice sounded nothing like her seductive husband’s.

Restlessly, Tess rolled onto her side and muttered a reply. Still in that twilight between waking and sleeping, she heard soft footsteps, then a moment later a low, scraping sound followed by a distinct “snick.”

The final noise startled her fully awake.

“Who is there?” Tess demanded as she sat up in alarm.

An ominous silence greeted her. Her bedchamber was faintly illuminated by slivers of moonlight seeping from beneath the draperies, but she could see no one there. And yet …

Her heart racing, she raised her hand to her cheek. The touch on her face had felt very real, like fingers brushing her skin. Boney fingers. Not cold, but warm and human. Not ghostly, but not Rotham’s, either.

As she lit her bedside lamp with shaking hands, Tess noticed an odor that didn’t belong: the smell of an unwashed body. Even if Rotham had entered her
room and left again, his clean masculine scent would not have disturbed her.

Someone or something had been in her room, she was certain of it—a realization that actually did frighten her for real.

Knowing she would get no sleep if she remained there, Tess climbed out of bed. Taking up her lamp, she hurried down the corridor to Rotham’s wing of the castle, telling herself she would only take refuge there until morning.

Her soft rap on his door was initially met by silence, then by his sleep-roughened voice bidding entrance.

Hastily, Tess slipped inside his room. Closing the door to shut out the threat behind her, she exhaled an uneven breath at finding Rotham sitting up in bed. Just seeing him already made her feel safer. Even though he was bare-chested, the covers thankfully concealed his lower body. His gold-streaked brown hair was tousled from sleep, convincing her that he hadn’t been the one to pay her an eerie late-night visit.

“What is it, Tess?” he demanded, his tone now alert, but strangely wary.

“I … I am sorry to disturb you,” she stammered, “but I think there was an intruder in my room. Something touched my face when I was sleeping, and I don’t believe I was merely dreaming.”

There was a long pause while Rotham observed her standing there in her nightdress, barefooted, her hair spilling down around her shoulders.

“I am afraid to return, Rotham,” Tess insisted when he was silent.

“I cannot imagine you being afraid of anything,” was his noncommittal reply.

She swallowed. “It is one thing to disbelieve in ghosts. It is another to deny a real, physical manifestation. I am not returning to my room tonight. Fanny is in Basil’s room, though, so I cannot stay with her. I will be more courageous in the morning, but until daylight, I want to stay here with you.”

He looked at her for another long moment. “You are not using the ghost as an excuse to torment me?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed. No, she was not pretending to be frightened for her own purposes, as Fanny had done. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“If you remain here, I cannot vouch for my control. I cannot spend another chaste night with you in my bed. I don’t have the willpower.”

It surprised Tess that he would admit to having any vulnerability to her, particularly that she could make him lose control.

She slowly crossed the room to his bedside. “I want to stay, Rotham,” she repeated.

“Do you know what you are asking?”

Understanding his question, she hesitated. If she remained, the long-delayed consummation of their marriage would take place.

Was that what she wanted? Tess wondered, her gaze roaming over him. The lamp glow played over his bare torso, over sleek skin rippling with muscle.

Tess shivered, yet her reaction had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with her unwilling desire for Rotham. She craved his warmth, his sheltering
arms. She wanted him to protect and hold her and keep her safe from harm.

But she also wanted so much more.

The dryness in her throat made her reply a rasp. “Yes … I know what I am asking.”

His gray eyes sparked with unmistakable fire as he drew the covers down beside him, while his voice grew husky.

“Then stay.”

Tess hesitated for another long heartbeat, yet she could not possibly have turned away. Rotham’s powerful, hypnotic aura held her spellbound—that same captivating allure that had made her heart flip over when she’d first set eyes on him at nineteen.

His
eyes just now were heavy-lidded and unexpectedly soft as he regarded her, waiting silently for her final decision. Yet she knew this moment was inevitable. They had danced around each other for days now, ever since their first, ill-advised, explosive embrace had resulted in forced matrimony. But it was time to end the battles between them … at least momentarily.

Releasing the breath she was holding, Tess carefully set her lamp down on the bedside table. When she started to extinguish the flame, however, Rotham stopped her with a gentle order.

“No, leave on the light.”

Propping the pillows against the headboard behind him, he sat back and held out a beckoning hand to her. “Come here, love. Let me warm you.”

Wordlessly, she obeyed. She had agreed to his terms, even though after tonight, not only would their marriage be irrevocable, her body would no longer be her own.

When she climbed onto the high bed to sit beside him, he slid an arm around her waist and drew her close. Accepting Rotham’s embrace, Tess let her head rest on his shoulder.

For a while he merely held her, his heat seeping into her. She could feel her chilled body warming against the satin of his bare skin. His hand drifted soothingly over her hair, down over the long sleeve of her nightdress and back up again.

For a time she was content to remain in the hard masculine shelter of his arms. She felt cloaked in warmth and safety … yet undeniably aroused as well. Being with Rotham like this, sharing his bed, brought back potent memories of their wedding night. His slow caresses reminded her of how skillfully his hands and mouth could play over a woman’s body … over
her
body.

Tess bit her lip, keenly aware of the contradiction. He was offering her comfort yet stirring chaotic feelings of longing and desire inside her. Feelings she would no longer—
could
no longer—resist.

After a moment, his lips pressed against her hair. “You should take off your nightdress,” he murmured.

Without argument, Tess eased away from Rotham and rose up on her knees. Her palms damp with nerves, she unbuttoned the bodice of her cambric nightdress, then caught the hem and drew it over her head, letting the garment fall to the carpet beside the bed.

When, self-consciously, she made to cover her breasts with her hands, he shook his head. “Let me look at you.”

It was arousing in itself, she realized, to have Rotham studying her nude body. She never would have believed a simple look could be so titillating. The expression in his eyes made her breathless.

He was a riveting figure himself, she thought, taking in his physical masculine beauty … his gold-brown hair, thick and wavy, glowing richly in the lamplight. The proud bones and angles of his aristocratic face. His firm, sensual mouth. His strong, vital body. His enchanting, mesmerizing eyes.

Her gaze was caught helplessly in his, even before he reached out and traced a fingertip over her cheekbone and along her jaw, then lower, down the column of her throat to one bare breast. Her nipple peaked instantly, making Tess gasp at the delicious sensation. And yet she felt shaky, trembling inside.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked as if he could read her thoughts.

Not afraid of him, no. Rotham had been extremely considerate of her innocence that first time together, Tess reassured herself, so surely he would offer her the same consideration now. She feared herself, though. She was afraid of her relentless, deplorable need for him.

“I am a little nervous,” Tess admitted honestly.

“Then you should take the lead.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you learn my body? Your trepidation will decrease with familiarity.”

His suggestion was unexpected, and she didn’t immediately reply.

“You are completely in command, Tess,” Rotham added, his voice low and casual.

She understood and appreciated his tactics. By allowing her to control the pace of her deflowering, she was likely to conquer her nerves more quickly.

“How do I begin?” she asked.

“Use your imagination. You are not a complete novice any longer.”

No, she wasn’t actually a novice. Fanny had helped her to prepare for her nuptial bed, including lessons in self-defense regarding how to arouse a man. And Rotham had shown her the incredible pleasure to be found in his arms. She could attempt to work the same seductive magic on him, Tess decided.

When she drew down the covers to expose his entire lower body, her heartbeat hammered in her throat. He was an overwhelming man, lithe and virile, but it was the foreign sight of his loins that drew her gaze. His long male member stood thick and darkly rigid, fascinating her with its sheer proportions.

“You may touch me, Tess,” he urged. “I won’t break.”

She leaned closer, placing her palms against his bare chest, feeling the warm, strong resilience of his muscles as she trailed a tentative path lower to his hard, flat abdomen.

When she stopped short, Rotham took her hand and brought it to his loins. Her breath went shallow at the feel of that huge, swollen arousal.

Wrapping their joined fingers around his erection,
he moved her palm slowly along its length, stroking himself with her hand.

“Can you imagine having me inside you?” he asked. “Filling you with my flesh?”

Tess’s lips parted at the enticing image he’d awakened in her mind.

“I would like very much to be inside you, Tess, giving you pleasure.”

Yet
she
wanted to give
him
pleasure this time, Tess realized. The thought strangely excited her.

“You said I should lead,” she reminded him, surprised by the husky intensity of her voice.

“As you wish. What do you propose doing?”

“I want to taste you.”

His lips curved in a slow, sensual, heart-stopping smile. Something inside her stirred, responding as naturally, as inevitably, as breathing.

“Then taste me,” he said.

He relaxed back against the pillows, giving the appearance of surrender. Yet evidently she affected Rotham, too. She could feel the fine tension in his body as she bent over him and pressed a kiss to the bare skin covering his heart.