Deliciously Debauched by the Rake by Ann Lethbridge Read Free Book Online

patted her dry, helping her into a black silky robe. He shrugged into one of royal blue. She felt blissfully warm and pampered and so delightfully sated, she yawned.
    â€œUp with you, sleepyhead,” he said and once more picked her up and carried her through a mirrored door she hadn’t noticed.
    The chamber beyond was of the palest green, painted with seaweeds and exotic-looking fish. The bed was carved to look like a shell. Yellow rose petals on the coverlet looked as if they were floating on a blue sea. As he set her down, their perfume rose up around her.
    â€œI was wrong,” she said dreamily. “I do like yellow roses. And I will never see them without thinking of you.”
    â€œSo I would hope,” he murmured, stretching out beside her and lifting her head onto his shoulder, holding her close against his side.
    She stroked the lapel of his robe. “Thank you for a most wonderful evening.”
    He tensed at her words, but said nothing.
    â€œI suppose it is time to leave,” she said regretfully, gazing at the underwater scene. There were mermaids in here, too. And mermen. In naughty poses. She tried not to sigh.
    John looked down at her, nestled against his shoulder. He toyed with the ends of her lovely golden hair spread across his chest in long silky strands, steeling himself not to feel guilty.
    â€œApparently there was still some warmth amid the embers,” he said casually.
    She must have heard something in his voice because she sat up with a frown. He piled the pillows behind her back.
    She looked a little suspicious. Perhaps even nervous. Good. She deserved to be nervous.
    â€œIt was wonderful.” Her eyes misted. “But we cannot go on as before.” Her voice caught and he saw pain in her expression along with the attempt to be brave. “Our time is over. Surely you understand?”
    Satisfied he caused her as much pain as she had caused him, he shrugged coolly. “I have no intention of asking you to return as my mistress.”
    She swallowed. “No. Of course, not. What was I thinking?” She looked down, running rose petals through her fingers. “I was unkind. I suppose.” She took a breath as if she had an obstruction in her throat, and shook her head as if she wanted to speak but could not.
    A twinge of guilt twisted in his chest. He had never seen her so distressed. He slipped out of the bed and stood looking at her, her fingers trailing through yellow blooms, a faint color tingeing her cheeks from their lovemaking, her hair in lovely disarray around her shoulders.
    He had never seen her look more beautiful. He squared his shoulders. “I owe you an apology, Elizabeth.”
    She looked up then and he saw the sheen of tears. Dammit. He hadn’t intended to make her cry.
    â€œNo,” she said. “It is right that you should go.”
    â€œI don’t mean that. I have not treated you well.” Damnation, this was not easy, not with her looking at him wide-eyed and confused. “When you came to me, a noble lady, you were so gentle, so fragile, it never dawned on me you could have more earthy desires.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I put you on a pedestal and worshipped you instead of treating you like any other woman.”
    â€œJohn, you were wonderful, considerate. I could not have asked for better.”
    Always generous. Always giving. “Yes. But it can be so much more, like tonight, not sparks, but fire and flames.”
    She smiled sadly. “You need to secure your line. You need a wife.”
    â€œYes. I do.” He dropped to one knee beside the bed, captured that restless hand in his own, crushing the petals, inhaling their scent. “Darling Elizabeth, my heart, my love, will you do the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”
    â€œJohn, no! Please, don’t do this,” she whispered so low he could barely hear the words.
    â€œLizzie,” he said softly.
    She bit her