Wicked Temptation (Regency Sinners 6)(7)

A waist-high mahogany table stood in the center of the room, with several haphazard piles of books on its polished top, some with bookmarks amongst their pages. Evidence that Romney liked to read too?

Pru brought herself up short. Her reason for being here was not to covet the viscount’s library.

Romney’s mouth twisted derisively as she turned to him. “It was my understanding, when we last met, you had no further wish to see or speak to that hateful man—me—ever again?”

Pru’s chin rose in defiance. “Nor do I,” she snapped her irritation. A displeasure which, unfortunately, did not prevent her from being totally aware of how handsome Romney looked in a dark gray superfine, pale gray pantaloons, and snowy-white linen. “Except, before you left the other day,” she continued firmly, “you said you had something you wished to say to me in regard to our carriage accident.”

“A good afternoon to you too, Prudence,” he came back dryly.

She sighed her impatience. “I did not come here to exchange pleasantries with you.”

Romney’s mouth tightened at the sharpness of her tone. “Nevertheless, you will do so.”

“No—”

“You will do so now, Prudence, or suffer the consequences.” He spoke quietly but with such firmness, he might as well have bellowed the words in the otherwise silent room.

Pru refused to be cowed. “I see your arrogance has not diminished in the slightest since last we spoke.”

“Did you expect it to have done?” he mused.

“No,” she acknowledged disgustedly.

He nodded. “Defiant and rude young ladies have that effect on me.”

Pru felt the color heat her cheeks. “And certain…gentlemen bring out those particular traits in me, I am afraid.”

He gave a snort. “You are afraid of nothing and no one. Least of all, it seems,” he continued harshly, “the possible scandal caused by visiting a single gentleman’s residence unaccompanied by so much as your maid.”

Her dismissive laugh contained no humor. “Do not pretend you care for the dictates of Society any more than I do.”

“That is hardly the point.”

“Then what is the point?” she challenged. “I am in mourning, for goodness’ sake. I certainly did not come here with any thought of seducing you!”

Titus clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from immediately throwing this young woman across his knee before giving her bottom a sound spanking.

A single glance at the haughty expression on Pru’s face when she entered the library had been enough to tell Titus he had been correct in thinking his and others’ gentle approach toward her out of deference to her suffering at the death of her sister was only succeeding in allowing Pru to become even sharper and more intractable.

Kissing Prudence three days ago, fondling and caressing her breast until the nipple grew hard beneath his fingertips, had not been the right approach either.

Especially when it had also left Titus hungering for more.

More kisses.

More caresses.

More of Prudence.

If anyone had ideas of seduction, then Titus knew he was the one who wanted to seduce Pru rather than the other way about.

A desire he had done his best to put from his mind these past three days and nights.

The days he could easily fill with estate business, visits to Gentleman Jim’s boxing saloon, and lunching at his club with one or two of the other Sinners.

But the nights…

Titus had tried visiting a house of the demimonde the evening after he had kissed Prudence, hoping to purge his sexual frustration that way. But none of the ladies there had Pru’s golden hair, blue eyes, and plump breasts, and after only an hour, he had excused himself and returned home. He had dealt with his own sexual needs that night, and drinking a decanter of brandy had succeeded in sending him into oblivion for the next two nights.

Only that desire had come raging back, engorging his cock into throbbing life the moment he’d set eyes on Prudence again. The very idea of throwing up her skirt and spanking her bare ass made his cock ache.

“I—” Titus was stopped from acting on that desire as Gardener entered the room carrying the tray containing the decanter of brandy and glasses. “Thank you.” He nodded dismissal of the elderly man and moved to pour the brandy himself. “Here.” He held one of the glasses out to Prudence once they were alone. “Drink it,” he instructed harshly when she made no move to take the glass from him.

After a brief glance at his expression, she gingerly removed the glass from his fingers and into her black-lace-covered ones.

“I said drink,” he bit out when she made no effort to do so.

She frowned her displeasure of his tone even as she took a tentative sip before screwing up her face with distaste. “I do not recall you being quite such a bully as this.”

“And I do not remember you being quite so irresponsible as to put yourself in danger of being completely socially ruined, but it appears we were each wrong about the other.”

The color deepened in her cheeks at his rebuke. “How dare you—”

“I am still waiting.” Titus calmly took a sip of his brandy.

She looked totally bewildered. “Waiting for what?”

“For you to show me the politeness our stations in life dictate is necessary for Society to be able to keep turning.” Titus derided Society’s strictures of etiquette, for which, as Pru had stated, he had not the slightest patience or time.