Needed: A Dishonorable Duke: Calling All Rakes Read online

  The papers had been right. He was devilishly handsome with glittering near-black eyes and angular features. A strong, hard jaw and lips that were currently pressed into a thin line of disapproval. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  He stopped again, though her feet were still dangled off the ground. “Hurt you?”

  “You look rather irritated.”

  “Irritated doesn’t begin to describe what I feel.” His breath, laced with the scent of whisky, tickled her nose as he spoke.

  “So you can understand why I might be concerned.”

  A muscle in his cheek flexed. “Miss Ayers.”

  She licked her lips and again she saw his gaze drop to her mouth, which made her breath catch. Was his attention good or bad? “Mona.”

  “Mona?” A line of incredulity formed between his brows as he looked back up at her eyes.

  “You’re holding me in the air, my given name seemed appropriate.”

  “You are an irritating little thing.”

  She nodded. “You’re not the first to say so.” And then she slid her arms from his biceps to shoulders stopping at the base of his neck. She wished she could run a finger along the thick cords. His body was exceedingly interesting.

  He looked up at her again, and, for whatever reason, he began to lower her toward the ground.

  The moment her feet touched the floor, however, she understood exactly why he’d set her down. His arms circled her back and pulled her close to his body.

  He had on no coat, no vest even, so that she could feel every hard ridge of him. She didn’t mean to, but she gasped.

  He smiled, a devilish kind of grin that whispered of naughty secrets.

  She closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t here to learn those secrets. Not even if he agreed to her plan. Naughty secrets were for his mistresses, his lovers. What she wanted to be was his wife. His very detached wife. She drew in a fortifying breath.

  “Who else has told you that you’re irritating?” he asked.

  Her lashes fluttered back open as she titled her chin to look at him. “Oh, loads of people. I make a habit of speaking my mind.”

  He lifted one of his eyebrows. “Do you?”

  She nodded. “Which is why I shall speak it now. I come to you with a proposition.”

  “Of all the bloody stupid—”

  Mona wasn’t sure what possessed her to do it, but she lifted one of her hands and placed a single finger over his mouth. “Just listen.”

  His brows lifted as he stared down at her, likely debating what he ought to do with her. But he didn’t argue, and he didn’t move away from her finger, or the rest of her body for that matter.

  “My mother is attempting to match me with the Marquess of Ware. Her efforts are proving successful.”

  From underneath her finger he mumbled. “The man is ancient.”

  She nodded. “I find the match entirely unsuitable. Which is why I’ve come to you.”

  His fingers flexed against the small of her back. She took that as her cue to continue. “Here is what I propose. My mother will only cry off her plan if I present a better match.”

  He shook his head. She couldn’t quite be certain, but she thought he might have mumbled something about having gone mad.

  “I’m aware that you’re likely not interested. But hear me out. I happen to know that you also have a problem.”

  “What’s that?” he said from under her finger.

  “Every year, at least one debutante or her mother, sets her cap on you. The best way to stop them from trying to catch you is to marry.”

  He stared down at her, his mouth falling slightly ajar before he snapped it shut. “How observant of you.”

  She dropped her finger, and not sure what else to do with her hand, she let it flutter onto his collarbone. A mistake. She could feel his pulse under her palm, her own thrumming to match his.

  “You think so?”

  “No.” he glared down at her, but he still held her close. “The whole point of avoiding marriage is to actually avoid marriage.”

  “Yes, but…” she wished she could pull her glove off and feel his skin with her finger. The steady beat of his heart under her hand had started to reverberate all through her, settling into a pulsing ache between her thighs. Was it the intimacy of their embrace? The subject that they discussed or the fact that he was so deliciously hard…everywhere. “But unlike the rest of the ladies, I would understand the rules.”

  For a moment he just stared at her. And then, rather than answer, his hands slid down the curve of her back, over her skirts, skimming her behind until his hands had reached the part where her backside gave way to her legs. He stopped a bit to clasp her there, bringing his face indecently close to hers. And then he squeezed, pushing their pelvises together.

  The sensation that rocked through her stole her breath, making it hard to think…to reason. “I’m a rake, love. These are the only rules.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not interested in those rules.” Lie. She hadn’t been interested before she’d been held close. Now the growing need inside her told her that her plan was already in danger of failing. But then again, what other option did she have? “I mean other rules.”

  His hands eased. “Such as?”

  “I know you don’t want to be tied down, but you must still wish for an heir.”

  His jaw worked but he didn’t reply. The rest of what she wished to say rushed out into the silence. “I will allow you to live the life of your choosing and provide you with an heir if you protect me with your name from my mother’s matchmaking.”

  This time, his mouth did fall open and he stared down at her as though she were some strange creature he’d never seen before.

  Which was ridiculous. Her idea wasn’t that bad.

  Mona’s idea might be the worst thing he’d ever heard. It was absolutely absurd.

  Him. Married.

  He looked down at the bosom currently pressed tight to his chest. Then again, he could spend some time with breasts like that.

  Along with her lips. Her hair. And she said interesting things too. Her words, her approach, they’d been different, unique. So many of the women he’d met blended together. But this woman, currently standing provocatively encased in his arms while declaring she’d give him a businesslike marriage, was an innocent hoyden. A lovely combination of seductive and straightforward, she was…an original.

  He’d never met a diamond of the first water, but he had the vague feeling he might be holding one in his arms right now.

  He gave her ass another squeeze. Even in the folds of her dress, he could feel how lush and ripe the curve of it was. And the way her body molded to his…

  “To restate your argument, you would like for me to marry you. I give you the protection of my name and you will provide me with an heir. In return, I am free to live my life as I always have with mistresses and whores, gaming, and parties while you…” He saw her wince. It was his intent, of course. There was a glaring flaw in her plan, but he almost hated to reveal the obvious problem. Plenty of women had sworn they wouldn’t make demands on him, but in the end, they always did. “What? Will you live in the country raising my child? Will we have separate homes here in London?”

  She shook her head, her palm pressing to the base of his throat. “No. Not here in London. I would think it best to live separate lives in different parts of the country. Detachment will require space, I would imagine.”

  He had to give her credit, she was far more serious than most. Other women usually said they would give him space while meaning to tame him. Mona seemed serious. And there was something so warm about this woman. Did she really think she could live her life alone?

  She shouldn’t have to. The thought took him by surprise. Her happiness was not his concern.

  “Mona.” Even her name sounded a bit carnal, and he found himself giving her another squeeze. “I appreciate what you’re attempting here, and I applaud your efforts.”

&
nbsp; She slid her hands about his neck, her fingers creeping up into hair at the base of his skull. “You’re going to say but, aren’t you?”

  Had she been compromised? He didn’t really care, but it might explain her comfort in his embrace and her mother choosing such an ancient man for her husband. Then again, a marquess was a prize for any mother.

  What would it be like to have a person who worked that hard for you? Granted, Mona would probably celebrate if her mother ceased meddling in her affairs. But from where he stood, having someone who cared that much, had cared that much when he was a child…well, it sounded very nice. Very nice, indeed. “But.”

  Her chin dropped and so did her fingers, leaving the sensitive skin of his hair line. He fought the urge to tell her what she wanted to hear just so that she’d touch him like that again. “Is there anything I could say that might convince you?”

  “No.” But even he could hear that his conviction had waned. There was some part of him that wanted to say yes.

  He’d take her to the country, fill her belly with a baby…then perhaps another. When done, he could return to London and resume his life here. It wasn’t a totally awful plan. It had its merits.

  And for once in his life, he wouldn’t have to be totally and completely alone. He’d have a family, a real one, temporarily anyway.

  He gave his head a little shake as he took a step back. The cool night air was like a slap to his skin after the warm soft press of her body. “Miss Ayers.”

  “Yes?” her chin had dropped, and her voice had grown quiet.

  “We should return to the ballroom before we are missed.” He took two steps toward the chair where he’d neatly stacked his clothes and reached for his cravat, tieing it in a quick knot before donning his vest and jacket.

  She gave a resigned nod, turning toward the door. “I’ll go first.”

  He heard the lock slide open before she slipped away.

  He intentionally took his time straightening his sleeves, adjusting his collar before he too exited the room. He looked both ways and stopped in surprise when he found himself staring at another woman in the hall.

  “Sara.” He shouldn’t have been taken unawares. He’d been here to meet her after all, not Mona. But something about his little redhead had consumed his thoughts and overwhelmed his senses.

  “Brax,” she said, crossing her arms and narrowing her gaze. Her lips pulled into a tight line. “You’ve had a change of heart about our meeting, haven’t you?”

  Yes. “No.” He gave her a winning smile. The best he could muster. “But something has come up. I can’t meet with you at this time.”

  “Something has come up?” But she didn’t sound relieved, rather, she appeared even more agitated. His gaze swept down her thin figure, returning to her light brown eyes. It was hardly Sara’s fault that she didn’t inspire the same passion. He didn’t wish to hurt her feelings, he just wasn’t interested anymore.

  “Quite right.”

  “Does the something that has come up have red hair and a large bosom?” Sara’s eyes snapped with barely contained fury.

  He winced. It wasn’t that he intended to court Mona either. Not at all. She’d just reminded him that there was likely another, more suitable woman for him to pass the time with and fill the void inside him. He’d been too long without comfort, grown desperate. He could see that now. But Sara wasn’t the sort for him. She was neither soft in body or heart. “It’s not like that.”

  “Don’t tell me what it’s like,” Sara’s voice rose, her tone so sharp it might have cut glass. “How dare you toss me over in my own house. At my own party while accepting my hospitality. You are worst sort of cad.”

  He blinked in surprise. It was a gross overreaction on Sara’s part. Mona had done him a favor tonight. If Sara was this angry before they’d even begun their tryst, imagine what she might be like after they’d really become intimate. He thought it best to soothe her temper now and end things later. “Sara, she’s a debutante attempting to trick me into marriage. I set her straight but I’m afraid to be gone from the party for too long. I should return lest some rumor begins and then I’m forced to marry the chit.”

  Sara seemed to relax then, nodding her head. “So you’ll meet me later tonight then?”

  “I don’t think so,” he started, realizing he was going to have to tell her the truth. Did he do it now or wait? He might infuriate her now but if he was anything, it was straight forward.

  But before he could say another word, she spun on her heel and left.

  Just as well. He’d decided that he’d like to meet Mona’s mother, Lady Ayers. He was curious about her and a part of him was tempted to give the matron his card and ensure he had the opportunity to see Mona again. She had enticed him in a way he couldn’t explain. And he hadn’t met anyone like that in a very long time.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Her mother looked furious when Mona returned to her side. She supposed her mother’s anger was justified. It had taken Mona ages to skirt the crowd around the ballroom to make her way back here. Coupled with the time she’d spent with the duke, she’d been gone an exceedingly long time.

  “Where have you been?” her mother hissed, giving Mona’s arm a good yank. “Were you hiding behind the punch bowl again?”

  “In a cream-colored gown? Don’t be ridiculous,” Mona answered. Which was unfair. For once, her mother had allowed Mona to choose her own gown. Her mother frequently picked far more bold, highly decorative frocks. But with the Marquess of Ware’s impending offer…her mother had relaxed her usual standards.

  Still, her mother did not appreciate the jest or the reminder. “A plant then?”

  Mona pressed her lips together, careful not to point out that plants could also be problematic when wearing such a light color. Goading too much would ensure that her mother would never let Mona chose her gown again.

  “Haven’t you been reading the etiquette book I gave you?”

  “Yes, Mother. I have.”

  “Are you certain? All I’ve seen you carrying about lately is the Bible.”

  That was her mother’s great complaint? She was reading the word of God too often? To her mother’s point, she was using the book to hide and then transport articles about the duke, but her mother didn’t know that. “Yes. I’ve read it. You only allow me three books. The Bible, A Guide to the Great Families of England, and Lady Parson’s Book of Etiquette. How could I not read each of them cover to cover?”

  Her mother’s mouth pursed. “But if you’d read Lady Parson’s guide, you’d know to make yourself seen to gentlemen who might wish to converse with you. We’ve no formal agreement with Lord Ware yet. We must continue to be available.”

  If only her mother knew how available she’d just made herself to the duke. “But it’s all so confusing. Make yourself available, hide your true intentions, talk on interesting topics, don’t speak overly much. Bat your eyelashes but keep your chin up. But don’t make eye contact and look often to the floor in deference. How can one decipher such language?”

  A deep chuckle sounded behind her. The timbre of it skittering along her skin.

  Her mother, who’d been on the cusp of breaking into a tirade, stopped, her face growing quite pale. And then, without a word, which was highly unusual, dipped into a deep curtsy.

  Oh dear. Was the duke behind her?

  Slowly she pivoted, catching the sharp angles of his face in the candlelight as he stood close to her. “Your Grace.”

  He inclined his head, his gaze sweeping down her. “Miss Ayers.”

  “You’ve…you’ve met?” Her mother cleared her throat.

  “We did. By the punch bowl,” he said his hand subtly grazing her back. “But allow me to formally make your acquaintance, Lady Ayers.”

  It was Mona’s turn to go pale. She felt the blood drain from her face. Did that mean that he’d changed his mind about her proposition?

  In a series of decisive moves, he easily claimed her next dance and then pul
led her out onto the floor. “I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered close to her ear.

  “Really? I’m not sure I know what I’m thinking.”

  He chuckled. “Your sense of humor is as delightful as the rest of you.”

  “A dance and a compliment?” she asked as he wrapped her in his arms and smoothly stepped into the crowd of dancers.

  For a while, silence fell between them, and she relaxed into his embrace. He was an excellent dancer and she felt as though she were effortlessly gliding about the floor. She closed her eyes, feeling both the music and his hands. Which was why she didn’t notice when he leaned closer. “You’re thinking that I’ve changed my mind.”

  Her cheek just brushed the rough stubble of his. My, but he was close. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  She felt him smile, the rise of his cheek, pressing against hers. “Oh good. I’ve already disappointed one woman this evening by not meeting her expectations.”

  She winced. “Lady Wistcomb?”

  “See, how did you know that?”

  “It’s in all the papers,” she answered. “I’ve read every article about you, which is how I knew to find you here tonight. And how I know it was Lady Wistcomb with whom you were about to embark on a tryst. If you haven’t already. Embarked, that is.”

  “You’ve been reading up on me?” he asked, clearly ignoring her comments on embarking. Which was all the better.

  She nodded. “A regular duke or marquess might not have considered my offer.”

  “Regular?”

  “Yes. One who would like a normal marriage.”

  “Why wouldn’t you provide a normal marriage?”

  She shook her head. “No one would mistake me for a good prospect. I’m too…bubbly, too chatty, likely too straightforward with my opinions, and when it’s really important, I’m too absent.”

  “Absent?”

  “I don’t really like these events much.”