Delectably Undone! by Elizabeth Rolls Read Free Book Online

dreaming about Loveday.
    Evelyn forced himself to think rationally. It had been months since he had been with a woman. No surprise that he was having erotic dreams.
    It would be easy enough to find a mistress. The only problem was he didn’t want any of the available women. He wanted only one, a woman honor forbade him to take.
    He left town at first light, grim-faced.

    As house parties went it was not too bad. He knew most of the people present, and if his aunt’s machinations to match him up with Miss Phoebe Angaston—accredited Beauty and Heiress—were annoying, at least the lady herself was pleasant enough. Although holding herself aloof at first, she apparently had forgiven him for not attending the dinner and ball. Pleasant, kind, beautiful, and she was almost his own age rather than an eighteen-year-old innocent—the perfect bride, in fact.
    And Evelyn couldn’t for the life of him stir up a scrap of interest in her. He liked her. She was a nice person, even delightful. It would be no hardship to marry her.
    Only he couldn’t bring himself to make the offer she clearly expected. It wouldn’t be fair, because every time he tried to bring himself to the point of doing his duty to his lineage and title, he thought of having to paint over Lionel’s murals, and found something else to talk about.
    Eventually, Miss Angaston brought matters to a head.
    “Who is she?”
    He stared. They were seated slightly apart, courtesy of Aunt Drummoyne, at a picnic. “Who’s who?”
    “The woman you’re in love with.”
    His throat closed and his cravat seemed likely to choke him. Kind, beautiful, charming—add second-sight to her qualifications.
    “What makes you think I’m in love with someone?” Was he in love?
    She smiled. “You’ve been trying to bring yourself to propose to me for the past week. Something is stopping you, and I doubt it’s fear of my reply. You stare into space constantly and you frequently look sad. As if you’ve lost something.”
    “I see.” He wasn’t going to confirm or deny. Love.
    “May I make a suggestion?”
    He could only nod.
    “If she isn’t married, or something utterly impossible like that, then marry her. I fell in love when I was nineteen, and my father insisted that it would be better to wait for what he considered a more suitable husband.” Gray eyes met his. “Being young and dutiful, I obeyed. My suitor was dismissed, and now he is about to marry someone else.” Something glittered in the corner of her eye. Something that she blinked away. “I’ve lost him. My advice is that you don’t make the same mistake.” She reached out and patted Evelyn’s hand. “This is where you tell me to mind my own business.”
    He shook his head. “Instead, tell me. Had I offered, would you have married me?”
    She frowned. “Probably. We would get on well enough” Her smile returned. “But I think you need more than that, St. Austell.”

    She came to him in the darkness of his bed. All spicy fragrance and slender limbs that wound about him. Mysterious and yet familiar, her body sliding against his, her mouth a dream of tender, teasing seduction. There were no words. Words had no place here. Only her trembling sighs and his own harsher breathing as he loved her. Slowly. Tenderly. As she yielded to him and he discovered her secrets one by one with hands that shook with restraint.
    Softer, sweeter than his memories, she burned in his arms, all silken seduction. One hand fisted in her hair, holding her for his kiss. Her mouth was his, surrendered utterly to his demands as he pressed between her thighs, parted slick, swollen folds with gentle fingers, and felt at last the hot, liquid welcome of her body. He knew her now. His. All his. Only his. And at last, at last he knew his own heart.
    His mouth took the soft cry as her body surrendered its innocence, and he felt deep within himself an answering pang. They were joined, fully, sweetly, and he made love to her with an aching