The Importance of Being Wicked by Miranda Neville

Author:Miranda Neville [Neville, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: cookie429
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-11-30T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Thomas had found the right words to dispel Caro’s doubts. If he wanted her for such a selfish reason, it must be for herself as she was, not as he wished she would be. Lord knew, she’d never wished to be a duchess nor hold the kind of exalted position her mother’s ambitions had sought on her behalf. All she’d ever wanted was to be happy with a man she loved. She’d had that with Robert, right until the end.

She was glad Thomas wasn’t sure he loved her. His sweet, blunt, persuasive words had picked at a knot deep in her heart. What would happen if he unraveled it was too frightening to contemplate. Too painful. About one aspect of marriage to him she had no doubts. The sooner they shared a bed, the better she would feel.

“You have made me the happiest of men,” he said. He spoke formally, probably embarrassed by the passionate way he’d spoken before. The expression of emotion didn’t come easily to Lord Stuffy. If he couldn’t do it with words, let actions speak. Another kiss, to start with. She tilted her chin hopefully and took a step forward.

“Let me assure you, Caro, that I will do my utmost to be a good husband. I don’t pretend to be a brilliant man, but I would never treat you with anything but the greatest respect; nor need you fear I shall stray.”

That was good. Not straying meant bedding her, which moved the conversation in the direction she wanted. She could definitely do with a little less respect at this particular moment.

“You need never doubt my care for your welfare.”

She wouldn’t have to worry about debts anymore, and it would be agreeable to have some new clothes. But . . .

“My welfare would be greatly improved by your kissing me,” she broke in.

He stared at her for a moment, his lips expanding into the rare smile that softened the serious cast of his features and never failed to weaken her knees. “I would hate to be derelict in my duty,” he said, and gathered her comprehensively into his large embrace.

It was an even better kiss than the first one. The room was warm and free of wind, the carpeted floor firm underfoot and lacking in mud. The guilt of kissing her cousin’s fiancé gave way to the new and glorious knowledge that she could kiss Thomas whenever she wanted. He was hers.

And then there was the happy fact that they both wore fewer clothes. Without heavy topcoats, she was able to enjoy the press of his body against hers. Her bare hands delineated broad shoulders, moved down to trace the contours of powerful arms she’d admired so often and longed to touch. The pressure of his fingers through three layers of muslin at her waist ignited nerves that shot down to her lower belly. She felt his burgeoning interest match her own and was possessed by an aching, unbearable lust like nothing in her experience.

An attempt

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