Page 60 of About a Rogue
Bianca couldn’t help it; she gave a little snort of laughter.
“I agree,” said her husband in amusement. “Old fool.”
“What did you do then?” she asked.
“A single gentleman of no fortune and no profession? The gaming tables, my dear.”
“Were you good?”
“Brilliant,” he said with a wink. She laughed, and he grinned. At some point during their conversation she had slid down the bench until she was right beside him, and could make out his expressions.
“So you weren’t an indolent scoundrel when you came to Perusia,” Bianca said, feeling as if the veil had dropped from her eyes. “I believed you were the most unprincipled fortune hunter, wanting Cathy’s dowry and my father’s factory because you had nothing of your own. I thought you had dazzled Papa with empty talk of your connection to the Duke of Carlyle, and wanted nothing more than money.”
His hand twitched in hers.
“I’m sorry for believing the worst of you,” she added in real remorse. She had been wrong, and owed him an honest apology. “I hope you can forgive me.”
He turned, taking both her hands. “Bianca...”
“Yes?”
His face was silvery pale in the dark gardens. The moonlight made him look haunted and drawn, his eyes dark and shadowed. Instead of replying, he kissed her.
This time she was ready for it. She didn’t know if she had walked into the woodland in order for him to kiss her, but she had walked out here knowing it was a possibility. She had not missed one iota of the searing hunger in his gaze when he first saw her in this gown, nor the fascinated way his eyes dropped to her bosom every time she took a deep breath. The dress was very snug, but she might, just might, have exaggerated her posture at times to see what he would do.
Now he was kissing her, his mouth moving over hers, his free hand wrapping around the nape of her neck. And she was kissing him back, because he was not the rogue she’d thought he was and she could no longer fight her attraction to him.
“God above, how I want you,” he whispered, brushing kisses over her brow.
“We’re in a public garden.” Bianca thought that if that weren’t so, they would indeed consummate their marriage tonight.
“I know.” He rested his forehead against hers, his fingers playing with the long strands of pearls lying across her bosom. “But with the right discretion...”
She tensed. “What? You would do that in agarden?”
He laughed quietly. “Not this time. But there are still... pleasures... one can find...”
Her heart was thumping and her skin was tingling. “What pleasures?” she whispered.
“Will you trust me?” He slid off the bench, onto his knees in front of her. His black cloak pooled around him. He traced one finger over the inside of her ankle.
Bianca glanced nervously from side to side, but they were alone. It was full dark out, and the nearest lantern was barely visible at the end of the path. And his words were so tantalizing:trust me...
She swallowed hard, and nodded.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I won’t hurt you. Never, my love.” His voice was a thread of sound as his hand skimmed up her leg. At her knee he paused and slowly moved first one leg, then the other, to the side, spreading her knees apart. She almost choked. Another feverish glance around showed no one.
Max raised her skirts, draping the hem across her knees. His gaze never strayed from her face. Her pulse leapt—with excitement.
“I want to please you,” he breathed. His hands were on her thighs, smoothing over her bare skin and sending shivers through her.
“I’ve never—” she began, not knowing how to say that she—unlike he—had no idea what to do.
“I know,” he murmured. “Say one word and I’ll stop.” His thumbs brushed the curls between her legs, and she stiffened, her breath catching in nervous anticipation.
This was so unlike her. Bianca felt as if she were in a dream, or watching it all from a distance. But when he stroked herthere, her back arched and she flung her hands behind her to grip the bench at the sensation reverberating through her.
