“Stop. Do not dare tell me I cannot understand. I have much more to lose than you by being here, and I am well aware of the possible repercussions.”
“I won’t marry you.”
She flinched. The reminder was meant to put distance between them, and it worked. Pushing aside the sudden ache surrounding her heart, she reached for her stockings and pulled them on. “I haven’t asked for marriage, Your Grace.”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said to call me Max.”
He was giving her leave to use his given name? That had to mean something, didn’t it? “I haven’t asked for marriage, Max.”
Head down, he began putting his clothing back to rights. She ignored his unhappy expression and studied him instead, from his wide shoulders and strong arms, to the perfectly sculpted flat chest. Even partially dressed, he made her heart flutter.
If she ever saw him completely naked, she’d likely faint from lust.
She was tying her drawers when he moved to still her hand. His gaze was soft, but filled with resolution. “Let me help you.”
Her body melted at his sudden tenderness, and she leaned back to let him proceed. When he’d finished tying the ribbons, he ran the silk through his fingertips. “Pink and delicate. I think you wore these to drive me mad.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he righted her chemise and dropped it over her head. He smoothed the fabric down, taking extra care at her breasts. “A shame to cover these beauties.” One finger traced her right nipple slowly, almost reverently, and the flesh quickly puckered under the attention.
“My God,” he murmured. “I do love the way your body responds to me.”
Because you are the only man I’ve ever wanted.
She didn’t dare say it, however. Not while he considered tonight a mistake.
She knew otherwise. This evening had proven how much he desired her, how explosive they were together. Nothing about coming here had been a mistake.
They hardly spoke as he assisted her with the corset and bustle, the petticoats and dress. The emotional distance grew as more and more layers of clothing separated their bodies. After he handed her the black cloak, he gestured to the door. “I’ll see you out.”
The sentence held a note of finality, that this was the last time, and the possibility terrified her.
She dug in her heels. “When will I see you again?”
He sighed and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “You won’t.”
Pain ripped through her chest and settled behind her ribs. “Max—”
“Do not argue with me, Violet. We’ve satisfied our curiosity and that was that. This is not an affair.”
“I am far from having my curiosity satisfied—and it could be an affair, if you’d but allow it.”
“You ask the impossible,” he said, his voice low and angry. “And one day you’ll thank me for preventing it.”
“Because you believe you’re too old for me.”
“I know I am too old for you. And your father would never—”
“My father hardly has a moral ground upon which to stand. You of all people probably know that better than most.”
Max shifted and did not bother to deny it. She’d hit her mark, then. Indeed, Max was privy to her father’s sins. “Nonetheless, he is your father and my friend. An affair between his daughter and me is impossible.”
She hated how rational and calm he sounded, as if his mind were made up. What happened to the wild lover of moments ago, the one spewing filth from his mouth and clutching her as if he never wanted to let go? “Are you saying you’ve never slept with a woman more than twenty years your junior?”
His expression darkened at the reminder of their age difference. Stalking away, he grabbed the decanter on the side table and refilled an empty glass. After taking a large swallow of what had to be brandy, he said, “I haven’t, actually. I make a habit of choosing experienced women who needn’t be shown how to pleasure a man.”
The wounded lion lashes out.
Violet was not fooled. This man had nearly fallen at her feet moments ago, dazed by her kisses and drunk on her taste. His body’s reaction to her couldn’t have been faked, so she knew her innocence hadn’t bothered him. In fact, she would guess the opposite based on his rabid ardor—that he’d enjoyed instructing her.
Confidence surged through her like a great gust of air and filled her with newfound knowledge and purpose. She lifted her chin. “Perhaps I’ll find a young buck to teach me, then. I’ll return after some tutelage and you might reconsider.”
His gaze, possessive and dark, narrowed on her. “Do not even contemplate it, Violet.”
“Or?”
“Or I’ll put a stop to it. And beat whomever you’ve convinced to help you within an inch of his miserable bloody life.”
She bit her lip to hide her smile. Oh, yes. This was far from over between them.
“Stop looking so pleased with yourself,” he snarled. “I will only destroy you and never marry you. Consequently, you should run from this house and never look back.”
“And yet I cannot.”
“I do not want you to return. Is that clear enough for you?”
The words were like spikes through her heart, tearing the tender flesh straight through, but she would remain strong. He was stubborn . . . yet so was she. “I think you’re lying.”
His lips flattened into a thin, angry line. “I’ve pummeled men for lesser insults than the one you just handed me.”
“You won’t hurt me. I’ve known you nearly all of my life.”
“You know nothing about me.”
Yes, I do. I see you. I’ve always seen you.
She had observed him carefully during her parents’ dinner parties. Well read and intelligent, Max could speak to almost any topic, no matter how obscure. He was also kind and thoughtful. He made certain to escort elderly Aunt Harriet, who had difficulty walking unassisted, and he doted on his son, refusing to ship the heir off to boarding school when William was a young boy.
Now she’d discovered more about the allegedly wicked Duke of Ravensthorpe. His sweetness. His giving heart. His jealousy when she mentioned other men.
He believed he would destroy her, but that was impossible. Tonight she had discovered herself . . . and Max had helped her do it.
“We shall see,” she said, cryptically.
“Goddamn it. You must listen to what I am saying.”
Yes, she was listening, and one thing was perfectly clear—she could no longer chase him. She had to give Max space and let him come to her instead. Whatever was between them only worked if they were both amenable, both willing to take risks for the other. As it was, she had risked enough for him.
What if he moves on without you?
It was a gamble, certainly. No telling how many women were angling to get in his bed. And yet, everything inside her screamed this was the right choice.
“I’ll see myself out,” she said and turned to the door.
“You are not leaving until you agree never to return.”
She paused and tried to remember this was for the best. Either way, win or lose, she couldn’t pursue Max like a hound after a fox forever. “I won’t return until you invite me.”