Page 32 of The Danger of Desire
Owen eyed him uneasily. “You don’t know my mistress as well as I do.”
“I know she’s not stupid. And I should hope that you aren’t, either.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Damn it, Owen, do you mean to stand by and watch her be ruined?”
“Of course not. But unfortunately, my lord, once the mistress gets the bit between her teeth, there’s no stopping her.”
“Nonsense.” Halting to fix the servant with a hard look, he tried another tack. “Either you refuse to take her there from now on, or you will force me to go to Lady Pensworth and get you dismissed.”
Delia had called Warren’s bluff, but Owen surely wouldn’t.
The footman paled. “B-but my lord, what if she won’t heed my cautions? What if she goes alone anyway?”
“You’d better find a way to make sure she doesn’t. Claim to be ill or in trouble with someone at Dickson’s, or whatever you must do.” He gave the man his best marquess scowl. “But keep her out of that place. Do you hear me?”
With his shoulders slumping, Owen nodded. “I’ll do what I must, even if I have to lock her in her room.”
“See that you do.”
Confident that he’d taken sufficient steps to keep her safe for now, Warren headed toward Edwin and Clarissa’s town house.
The wench would be the death of him yet, with her maddening obstinacy and her foolish risks with her reputation and...
Her sweet scent. Her soft sighs. Her satin-skinned throat with the pulse that leapt beneath his kisses. The ones she gave only to him.
His cock instantly came to attention. Damn her to hell. What was it about her that kept him from pushing her from his thoughts? Why did the taste of her still linger on his tongue?
And why did part of him wish he’d taken her up on her scandalous offer?
We might get along quite well together. In the bed, you know.
Yes. They would. That was precisely what terrified him.
Nine
Delia tried to get her wobbly legs to work properly as she headed toward the dining room. Bother the man for arousing both her anger and her desire. The way he’d kissed and fondled her had been the most exciting thing ever to happen to her.
Had she lost her mind? Probably.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps shedidcrave wickedness. A little. A very little. And only because he’d made it seem so... well... crave-worthy. She wasn’t likely to forget the shockingly amazing feeling of his hand on her breast for a very long time.
She halted outside the dining room. How could she face her aunt and Brilliana as if her whole world hadn’t just tilted sideways? What was she to say?
A meow sounded from behind her, and she turned to find Flossie in the window overlooking the street, staring out with her nose to the glass. Delia came up beside her and glanced out to see Warren striding away from the house.
Oh, Lord. “Not you, too,” she chided, taking Flossie into her arms. As the cat strained toward the window, she said, “Stop that, he’s gone. Do you think he gives one farthing for you? I swear, that man charms every female who comes into his orbit.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” said a voice behind her. She jumped, then whirled to find Brilliana watching her with a guarded expression. “He’s a very charming fellow.”
Delia schooled her features to nonchalance. “When he wishes to be.” She slid past her sister-in-law and up the stairs toward the drawing room. The last person with whom she wished to discuss Warren was Brilliana.
That didn’t stop her sister-in-law from following her. “You like him. Admit it.”
“I do not like him.”Likewas too puny a word for what she felt. Shewantedhim. With a handful of kisses, he’d made her feel the most astonishing... hunger for something beyond her ken. It was ridiculous. Especially given his attitude toward marriage.
Because much as I would relish having you beneath me, writhing in the throes of passion, I’m not fool enough to succumb to such temptation when it can only lead straight to a parson’s mousetrap.
