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"Yes, sir… er-Dermott," she softly corrected, the warmth of his hands on her shoulders, the weight of them, his closeness, making her tremble, her wanting him no longer casual, if it ever had been, no longer a practical decision, but deep, specific, and defenseless. "When?"

Never, he should say, her virginity a vast deterrent, his own troubled memories disquieting.

"I want you… ever so much," she whispered, gazing up at him with wistful blue eyes, taking a half step forward so her body brushed his.

"This could be a mistake." Irresolute, skittish, he hesitated.

"You promised," she pleaded.

The innocent longing in her eyes, the lush feel of her body against his, weakened his already equivocal resolve, his body automatically responding to her nearness, his erection rising between them.

"You do want me," she breathed, moving her hips against his rigid length. "I can tell…"

She was temptation incarnate, the look, the feel of her, and gripping her shoulders, he reluctantly pulled her closer. Her sweet scent filled his senses, her soft breasts pressed into his chest whetted his appetite for more, her hips brushing against his throbbing erection fed his lustful cravings.

She slid her hands from beneath his and, reaching up, placed them on his shoulders. "I'm going to kiss you now, my lord," she murmured as though she had a schedule to keep. And when she rose on tiptoe to reach his mouth, it was impossible to resist. His hands drifted lower, sliding down her back, cupping her bottom, and pulling her hard against his body. He growled softly, "You'd better be sure." His voice took on a faint drollery. "Then at least one of us will be."

"I'm sure." Her eyes were clear blue, untouched by doubt, her mouth only inches away.

Wanting to be kissed.

He dropped his head slowly, as though she were dangerous.

"Kiss me," she whispered, tightening her grip on his shoulders, drawing closer.

And he impetuously obliged, covering her mouth in a restless hotspur kiss that didn't charm or take heed of her innocence but fed his own rash urgency after a week of waiting-a greedy, incautious kiss that ravished and roused and tantalized.

She sighed into his mouth, unafraid, audacious in her wanting, reveling in his need. Melting against him she ate at his mouth, tasted him deeply, as though he were hers to savor and relish and he was the reason she'd waited so long for her first kiss.

It was half a lifetime away from Dermott's first kiss, and heated or not, flame hot or blazing, it wasn't enough.

He wanted more. When he shouldn't, when she might regret what she was doing, when he didn't want the burden of her guilt.

Chafing with indecision, he abruptly pushed her away.

Shocked, trembling, she gazed at him.

"I can't do this."

"You agreed!" Flushed, overwrought with desire, she cried, "You can't refuse!"

He was standing very still. "I can do anything I want."

"You're rude!" she exclaimed. "To do this to me… to make me feel this way and then-"

He took a deep breath. "Sorry, I changed my mind."

"Well, change it back," she heatedly retorted, "because I'm deeply frustrated and you invited me here tonight!"

"I'll send you back."

"I won't go!"

They stood mere inches apart, hot-blooded, resentful.

Furious at his indifference to her plight, at his indifference to her, quivering with indignation, she vehemently said, "How dare you back out now, when I need you!"

Her breasts trembled above the precarious neckline of her gown in the most bewitching way, Dermott noted, and whether her indignation registered or the provocative tremor of her exquisite breasts most captured his interest, he suddenly smiled. "You're intent on this?"

"Of course I am. Look at me!" She threw open her arms and he looked at the sumptuous, barely dressed female before him, demanding to be fucked.

He inhaled briefly, counted to about two and a half with the lush sexual gift being offered him, and said, "Fine. I give up."

"Well, thank you," she murmured sarcastically, "for your kind concession."

One dark brow lifted. "Do you want to do this or don't you?"

Her nostrils flared. "Damn you."

"Damn us both, probably, before we're through with this bizarre agreement. Let's go." And walking away, he strode toward the hidden door.

She caught up to him as he opened it.

"I'll go first if you don't mind." His voice was polite, cool. There was no way he could follow her tantalizing bottom up the stairs and act with any semblance of decency. On the other hand, he brutally noted, she was there to have her virginity taken from her, and no one had signed any contracts defining the details. He could overlook gentlemanly behavior if he wished and assuage his burning lust in any way he chose. In fact, she had just demanded as much, he reflected, taking the stairs in a run.

But there was no time left for further musing with her following hot on his heels. As they exited the concealed doorway into the bedroom, she grabbed at his arm, not sure he wasn't running away. "Don't you dare change your mind," she breathlessly proclaimed. Reaching over, she deliberately ran her palm over the stretched fabric of his breeches, feeling the entire length of his erection. "Because I want that."

Perhaps passion always won out over reason, he decided, particularly with the determined Miss Leslie. She was pretty plain about what she wanted.

And when she looked up at him and said "Well?" he jettisoned any remaining scruple, swept her up into his arms, and murmured, "Let's see how much you know."

"The way I'm feeling right now"-her voice was exhilarated-"having won," she added, kissing his cheek as he carried her into his private room, "I'd be more than willing to do anything you wish."

"Very tempting, Miss Leslie. Although I might argue who won," he replied with a faint smile, her soft weight in his arms inciting pleasantly covetous feelings.

"Promise you won't tease me anymore," she breathed as he lay her on his narrow bed, "because I can't wait… even though I should, even though I shouldn't be making you do this."

She didn't realize he was the last man in the world who could be coerced into sex; he turned down dozens of women every week. "You're not making me do anything," he murmured, gently touching her flushed cheek. "No one can." Standing, he swiftly took off his coat and neckcloth and pulled his shirt over his head, his need matching hers now that he'd allowed himself to disregard honor and scruple.

Tugging open the bows on her shoulders, Isabella slid her gown off in a swift wriggle, throwing it on the floor like an heiress might. Her chemise was an insignificant scrap of tulle she lifted over her head, and then, seated in the middle of his bachelor bed, she pulled out her hairpins, tossed them away, and opening her arms wide, smiled at him. "Hurry, hurry!"

"This is hurrying, darling," Dermott said with a grin, tossing his stockings away and reaching for the buttons on his breeches. She was ridiculously pink and plump where she should be plump, and lithe where she should be lithe; her golden hair was tumbled on her shoulders and she fairly glowed with eagerness.

(

He slid the buttons free, slipped his breeches down his legs, and stepped out of them to the sound of a rapturous, delighted "Ohhhhh!"

"Come closer," she breathlessly said. "I want to touch it." Leaning forward, she fluttered her fingers in anticipation.

Moving toward the bed, he smiled at such enthusiasm. Although his own zeal was hardly less. When he stood before her, enthralled, she touched him delicately, slid her fingers down his length and then up again, intent, studying the object of her attention with a fierce concentration. "I've never seen any at close range," she softly said, gently stroking the very crest of his penis.

"One can be grateful," he murmured waggishly.

She squeezed the swollen head, and his amusement was superseded by riveting sensation. He moaned deep in his throat, faintly arched his back, and looking down, he saw her smile and knew she was pleased with her accomplishment. "Molly said I could do that. And this…" she said proudly, grasping his erection with her small hand, her fingers barely closing the circle, but she squeezed again as her hand moved downward.