Seven Nights Of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors(3)

“Never say it.”

“She most certainly does. A legion of them. She will be able to advise me on how to proceed.” She nodded, probably to herself, as she made her point with enviable insouciance. “By the time my brother finds me, the deed will be done and my suitor will run for the hills.” She sat back and fixed her hypnotic gaze on him, apparently waiting for some response.

He had to work one up. “But what if your brother finds you before, ahem, the deed is done?”

“He won’t.”

“Would he not immediately suspect you have gone to your aunt?”

Her face clouded a bit and he felt a tremendous regret for having caused her dismay. But she tapped her lips as she reflected on his suggestion, and he forgot to think about being regretful.

Her lips were…lush. Lovely.

He had the sudden urge to kiss them. Or perhaps it was not so very sudden an urge.

He knew the desire to give her what she wanted.

It was a pity he was a man of some principles. Deflowering virgins, especially those he had rescued from a raging storm, was over the line. Even for him. Even if they wanted it.

She was an innocent. She had no idea what she was asking for.

There were many men who would be gentle in a situation like this, but many more who would just take what they wanted. There were men in the world with dark desires. He’d met them in his travels… He couldn’t bear the thought of this precious creature finding herself in a horrific situation with one of them. He couldn’t bear the thought of her first time being painful or frightening or worse.

He had the sudden inclination to return her to her brother, even though he had promised he would not. She needed someone to protect her from the predators—and her brother, the dolt, whoever he was, was clearly not up to the task.

While he had been thinking, so, apparently, had she. Her eyes widened and a smile quirked her lips and she said the most heinous thing he had ever heard.

“Oh. You could do it.”

He sputtered for a bit, then burbled, “Who, me?”

“You are quite handsome.”

“Is that a criteria?”

“And you are a gentleman.”

“How on earth do you know that?” He roared the question, because seriously, how the hell would she know that? Also, he was not a gentleman. Decidedly not. He was a savage and little more.

Aside from that, she could have crawled into anyone’s carriage. For all she knew, he made it a regular habit to cruise country lanes in search of vulnerable women to molest.

She tipped her head to the side and smiled. It did not calm him. “Because you gave me your seat. That’s what gentlemen do.”

“You cannot offer yourself to the first man who offers you a seat!”

“Oh pish,” she huffed. “You are hardly the first.”

The blood drained from his face. “What?”

“To offer me a seat, silly.”

Damn and blast. The woman was a menace.

“I am not taking your virginity.” Was he really protesting so vociferously? What on earth was wrong with him? “I don’t even know your name.”

“Well that is remedied easily enough. I am Tildy Paddington. Well, my real name is Matilda, but everyone calls me Tildy because, apparently, Matilda is too much of a mouthful, but you know what I mean.”

She continued discussing the origin of her name, but Dev heard nothing but a faint buzzing in his head.

He narrowed his eyes and took in her features, the slant of her eyes, the slight upturn of her nose, the crooked curve of her lips. And he saw those features on another face. One who had persecuted him for years through Eaton and Cambridge.

Chas Paddington.

He’d been one of the worst.

He’d made Dev’s life a living hell.

And now, here, a chance to pay him back by claiming something he valued.

He thrust out a hand. “Well, Tildy Paddington, my friends call me Dev. It is delightful to make your acquaintance.”

She slipped her fingers into his—he ignored the sizzle that shot through him as their skin touched—and he kissed her hand. He made the buss slow and languorous, a taste of the night to come.

Because he was going to do it.

He was going to debauch Charles Paddington’s sister.

And he was going to enjoy every moment.





CHAPTER TWO


OH. HEAVENS.

Tildy stared at Dev, so befuddled by the touch of his soft lips on her skin, she forgot to retrieve her hand.

And he did not seem inclined to give it up.

How was it a man’s fingers could be so warm?

She’d been serious when she suggested he could be a candidate in her quest for a lover, but she hadn’t truly understood what that might mean to her. Not until he’d touched her. And all of a sudden, her mind was filled with thoughts of him touching her…everywhere.

It made her go hot and cold at the same time, which was something she’d never felt before and didn’t understand.

Unless, of course, she was coming down with the ague.

She hoped she was not, but she was quite wet.

He really was a glorious specimen of a man, she thought. His face was a panoply of hard planes and angles, all except his lips, which were full and soft. His eyes were blue and a patrician nose marched precisely down the center of his face. It was his chin that caught her attention though, and a fabulous square jaw. It was a pity that it was covered by a scruffy beard.