“Your only other choice is Ronnie. Do you really wish to chain yourself to him without even looking at other men? You could fall in love, Mellie. You might meet another man of science. I do know a few. One who might allow you to study and work however you want. I swear, I shall introduce you to every one.”
Her steps slowed as her mind started churning. He was right, damn his eyes. This was exactly why she’d wanted her own money—so she could stop being a recluse with her father and meet eligible gentlemen. He was offering her the chance to go to London. And not just travel to the great city but to have a Season on the marriage mart, where ladies and gentlemen were thrown together with the hope of making an excellent connection.
But could she do it? It was all so devious. “What would my father say?” she wondered aloud.
“I’d think he’d be in the boughs with delight. Not every day a daughter gets engaged to a future duke.”
She shot him a glare. “And when I cry off?”
“Then you shall introduce him to your true choice in husband and convince him that the new man is the better match. He will be, you know. A better choice for you. And your father is a man of logic. He’ll see that you and I would never fit.”
“Stop saying it that way.” It made her feel like a toad, the way he so gleefully dismissed her.
Then he stood up and came around the settee. She would have resumed pacing away from him, but what was the point? He was here, and she was despicably aware of him no matter where she stood in the room. Which is why she didn’t argue when he possessed her hands again.
“I see that I shouldn’t have proposed like that, on one knee like Ronnie did. It put you too much in mind of him.”
That wasn’t it at all, but she didn’t argue.
“I should have outlined the scheme logically. Shown you the advantage of it first, and then done the pretty as a nice touch at the end. But I couldn’t resist the jest, you know. I thought you’d laugh when you understood it.”
“I have never understood your amusements,” she said.
“I know. That’s another reason you are the perfect choice. If you can’t laugh with a man, then there’s no hope for a future.”
She nodded. It was true. She saw that clearly even if her heart did not. Her heart was suffering from a lack of choices. With the only two gentlemen in her circle being Lord Charming and Ronnie, of course it would leap at him. But she was a thinking person, not a foolish girl led about by her emotions, and so she thought about his proposal.
“You are sure Lady Eleanor will sponsor me?”
“Absolutely.”
“And I will meet plenty of eligible bachelors?”
“Scores of them. I vow it.”
She nodded slowly and watched his eyes light with excitement.
“You’ll do it?”
Could she? Did she dare?
“Yes, Mr. Anaedsley, I shall do it. I shall be your fake fiancée and then take great pleasure in crying off. I hope you are completely humiliated when I spurn you.”
“Excellent!” he cried.
And then he kissed her.
* * *
What was he doing? The question spun through Trevor’s brain for about two seconds before logical thought completely stopped. All he’d really seen was how pretty she looked in the moonlight, how her hair curled so perfectly by her ear, and how her lips were moist and inviting. So he’d taken the invitation without thought to the consequences.
It started in the usual way. The lady gasped in surprise, and that naturally allowed him entrance. He deepened the kiss automatically, thrusting inside and pulling her closer. Her head had to tip back, which gave him the superior position as he dominated her head and body. He tasted, he toyed, and he took from her before she had the wherewithal to refuse. It was the way a future duke kissed, and he was well practiced.
Except, apparently, she was practiced as well. She closed her mouth—a little, just enough to threaten his tongue. His blood surged at the threat, and his fingers tightened, holding her to his will. She fought him for a moment, her hands hard where they clutched his shoulders. But as he thrust into her mouth, she arched into his body, dropping her head back.
In that small movement, she gave him dominion, and he set out to plunder her with a different mind-set. Where before he had taken, now he set to a skillful dance of advance and retreat. In and out, he played, easily besting her until he found himself burning with a fire wholly unexpected. His heart was pounding in his ears, his hands were shifting to support her so he could take her to the floor, and most damning of all, his organ was hot and hard where he rubbed himself against her skirts.
The speed of this inferno stunned him, and he broke from her in shock before he lost himself to her fire.