“I don’t know.” Her lips pressed together briefly. “Would you kiss me again and I will try to remain still?”
“Arabella, another kiss may not change anything.”
“Perhaps not, but please, Merrick. I’d rather think of you.”
She gave so much more than she realized. Merrick tried again, more slowly this time. The first brush of lips was gentle and soft. A temptation to ease her mind. The second kiss was firmer. He cupped her head, eagerly ready to tangle tongues with her. However, her lips remained closed as if she were not used to kisses at all.
Slowly, Merrick sought her waist with his free hand and drew her against him. She sighed as a third kiss began and finally kissed him back the way he wanted. Her hands touched his chest as he tasted her with his tongue. The sweet suction of their lips sent his pulse out of control, and his cock thickened and strained immediately against the placket of his trousers. There was more, so much more, passion to come between them, but in everything to do with Arabella, he hesitated. He wanted her so badly and did not want to make a mistake. He drew back reluctantly with one last soft kiss and waited for her reaction.
Arabella opened her eyes slowly. Her cheeks flamed to a vivid pink, so bright he had to run his fingertip across the smooth surface to test how warm they were.
“Oh my.” She slapped her hands over her blushing cheeks and a throaty laugh burst from her lips. “I see now why every woman who’s ever spoken of you was mad for your company.”
There was his reputation, come to remind her of his debauched past. He bit back his disappointment that she listened to gossip and looked away. “I have my uses.”
After a moment, her arm slid back through his and they continued their walk toward the house with her holding to him firmly. Her eyes fluttered shut as she walked, an unwise decision on uneven ground, and her lips pressed together tightly.
Although intrigued by her reaction to such a simple kiss, he waited till she opened her eyes again before asking what he most wanted to know. “Is Farnsworth gone from your memory?”
“Who?” She faced him and her smile was sweet and intimate. “After such a kiss I am capable of very little recall. It’s a wonder my legs can hold me up. Do you kiss all women like that?”
He’d used no more skill with Arabella than anyone else, but it was different kissing her. Unique and undeniably tender. An idea formed in his mind, but he pushed it away as a foolish wish brought on by an even more foolish desire that she might never belong to anyone but him and only smiled.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Arabella rolled her face into the pillow as frustration grew. Kissing Rothwell had ruined everything. Now instead of the memory of Farnsworth’s red, angry face filling her with terror, she saw Rothwell, and not just in that moment before he’d touched his lips to hers and ripped her contentment apart. Every kind and gentle moment between them flickered through her mind, adding fuel to her memories of kissing him.
She burrowed beneath the sheets, irritated by herself more than anything. During dinner tonight, Rothwell had acted as if that kiss never happened. He’d been charming and kind, always smiling and ready to converse. He’d had no problem upholding his side of the conversation at all. Arabella had barely managed to finish her meal. How could he not feel anything after such a kiss?
She was thankful he’d been taken away by Holland to speak of something so vitally important that Rothwell had not reappeared at all. Arabella rolled over and tossed the covers from her body. Her nightgown was twisted completely around and she lacked the will to collect herself. The advice she had received months ago on how to seduce a man played through her mind again. The ring on her finger was gone, just the faintest trace of the depression remained. She had restyled her hair and worn more revealing gowns than normal.
Even close proximity to a rogue had made no discernable increase in her attractiveness.
Perhaps she was doomed to die a virgin.
She sat up quickly. No. Absolutely not. She would not allow life to pass her by. If not for Rothwell’s being home, she might have fallen prey to Farnsworth’s evil intentions and been coerced into marrying Lord Parker.
How long could a man like Rothwell resist a woman if she were to climb into his bed? He had said he was interested but had assumed she was put off by men entirely. She wasn’t, but if Rothwell was waiting for some sign from her to proceed to intimate relations between them, she had no idea what that sign might be.
She bit her lip. Rosemary had promised that her body would appeal to any man. She wanted to test that theory with Rothwell before he found himself a wife. Nervous but committed to her decision, she climbed from bed. She just had to allow Rothwell an opportunity while he was still here. He’d been amenable to a kiss that had scorched her senses. She would go to him tonight before she changed her mind.
Arabella drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves and stepped out into the dark hall. It took a few moments before her eyes adjusted to the gloom and without the aid of any other light she padded toward the room her butler had assigned to Rothwell on his arrival. Steady rain beat against the windows she passed and disguised the sound of her passage. Light flickered beneath his door and she raised her hand to the wood. Her knock sounded loud to her own ears, so instead of waiting outside where a servant might see her, she quickly entered.
But the room was empty. The bed was made as if Rothwell had not been in it at all. Crushed, she turned on the spot and retraced her steps quickly. So much for having dishonorable intentions about a man. She would have to try again later or give up her wish as a fool’s errand.
“Arabella?”
She jerked her head up and stared into the shadows lingering beside her bedchamber door. Rothwell stepped from them.
“Oh, there you are.”
He came closer. He was still dressed as he’d been at dinner, but his coat was missing. He looked rather dashing in his shirtsleeves and embroidered waistcoat. “Were you looking for me?”
As during dinner, his deep voice did funny things to her nerves. A ball of uncertainty settled in her stomach. She took a deep breath and took a pace toward him. “I was. I have another request to make of you.”
“Are you thinking of Farnsworth again?”
“No. I was thinking of you.”
“Me.” His fingers brushed the sleeve of her nightgown. “In what way?”
This was the moment. “I’d like you to kiss me again and not stop.”
He studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment, eyes skimming her body as if he were touching her. Warmth pooled between her thighs and she clutched her robe tightly to stop her hands from shaking. When he blinked, his expression grew shuttered. “This is an unexpected request.”
Arabella brushed her suddenly sweaty palms over her robe. There was only one thing left to do. She’d have to be honest and as bold as Cecily could be. “I wanted you to seduce me,” she blurted.
Rothwell drew back a pace as if she’d struck him. For the first time ever, he seemed at a loss for words. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered for a moment. Could you please repeat that?”
His words bolstered her courage considerably. The tables had turned. Now he was the one flustered.
Yet Arabella hesitated. She hadn’t actually thought she’d need to ask to be seduced. She’d assumed Lord Rothwell would understand what she wanted without being told and act accordingly. How else did one invite seduction if there were no right words to request it? “I want you.”
She stared at him, hoping a blunt invitation would be acceptable. Time slowed. The clock ticked loudly nearby and then Rothwell finally seemed to catch on. But still he did not sweep in to ravish her. Perhaps additional conversation was a requirement in a seduction. She smiled. “Are you not pleased?”