Seduction by a Rogue
Treacherous Temptations
Hadley and Mary in the Garden at Blanchard House
He laughed, a harsh sound, all sign of humor leaving his eyes. “Don’t let any of it fool you, my dear, for even the most tarnished silver can acquire a gine and gleaming polish. And believe me, there is far more tarnish here than an innocent and unschooled eye such as yours can discern.”
“Why would you speak so of yourself?” Mary protested.
He reached for a red-gold curl that had escaped her lace cap and coiled it around his !nger. “I would forewarn you, Miss Edwardes that I am a man, and men in general are not to be trusted…” He held her gaze as he slowly released the ringlet, allowing his fingers to skim her cheek. “…especially
not by pretty young virgins.”
First kiss at Kensington Gardens
“It’s not that–” she turned to protest but stopped when he brushed the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Her gaze widened as he inspected it with a half-smile.
“A vestige of jam tart, I believe. But alas,” he gave a helpless shrug. “I have no napkin.” Before she realized what he was about, he brushed her lips in a feathery kiss, lingering at the corner of her mouth, where his tongue flicked out to taste her. The unexpectedness of it stunned her.
“Lord Hadley! Wh-what are you doing?”
“If you have to ask, I must be losing my touch. Perhaps I should try again?”
(After several more!)
Only a kiss?
It was staggering.
Her mind was lost to time and place, as if nothing existed beyond his divine mouth. He discarded her bonnet and tangled his fingers in her hair. She whimpered, clutching at his lapels, yet he refused to relent. Mercilessly, he intensified the kiss, pulling her so far in; submerging her in so much sensation that Mary thought she would drown in the pleasure of it.
At the Water Gardens of Bushy Park
“Desire is oblivious to time and place, dear Mary; and Jenny, bless her, is the very soul of discretion. I want you, Mary. Please trust me, my sweet. Let me show you the ways of love.”
She stared back at him, her body filled with the want he had described, but common sense held her surrender at bay.
“Love? Don’t speak of love to me. You describe meaningless pleasure. It has nothing to do with love!”
He gave her a roguish smile. “Pleasure is never meaningless, my sweet.”
