A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess (In War and Love #3)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Chinese Magnolia

D iana had expected that he would call on her today. Just not this way. The moment the butler announced him, she shifted nervously. And then he came into the room and simply said, “Good morning, Lady Diana.”

She frowned. His voice was polite. Nothing more. No teasing, no wicked gleam in his eyes. Sure, they were in the drawing room of her brother’s house, and Elizabeth was there. Still…

“Good morning, Lord Crawford. You seem well-rested,” she returned, trying to elicit a reaction.

“Uh… It was a quiet night.”

Diana smiled, though she was ready to get up and check his pulse. Was this the same man who had kissed her senseless? Was this the man who had kept her up at night?

Because she hadn’t slept. Simple as that. There was no way she would sleep. It was as if h e was in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, patiently waiting for her with that infuriating smirk on his lips to acknowledge what he had done. What they had done.

“I am glad that you had such a quiet night,” she said sarcastically.

“The day is splendid.”

To kill you, probably .

Now, he was straight-up ignoring everything she said. This day couldn’t be worse.

“Is it?”

Diana did nothing to hide her irritation. Even Elizabeth raised her head at her tone.

James was still looking at his still-filled cup of tea. Then, he turned to Diana and looked at her absentmindedly. As if he was going through a list of chores he needed to do, and being here was just a chore he needed to tick so he could move on.

“How about we promenade in Hyde Park, My Lady?”

“Why not?”

And that’s how Diana found herself walking alongside a distant James. Of all the things she had expected from their second promenade—wicked teasing, smug satisfaction, another lesson in temptation—this was not it. Not after that kiss.

God! That kiss. That kiss was forever imprinted on her lips, her body, her very soul. He hadn’t kissed her. He had devoured her like that was his only purpose in life.

And the way he stopped, with barely hinged restraint… His groan was a predator’s warning. His control was a taut, dangerous thing. Yet, she could only think of one thing. He had more to give. More than that burning, branding, scorching kiss. And she wanted it all.

But now she was doubting that it had happened at all and that it wasn’t all a figment of her imagination. The man who held her like that last night couldn’t be this cold man walking beside her, couldn’t have unenthusiastically placed his palm on the hand she had wrapped around his arm. It was as if he was escorting a dowager rather than a woman he had kissed senseless the night before.

No, this won’t do. It simply won’t do.

“I am wondering,” she began, breaking an unbearably boring silence.

“Hm.” He barely listened.

Diana was ready to strike him with her parasol—an act that would surely attract more looks. And perhaps give her chaperone a heart attack.

“Well, who knew my bonehead of a brother was right, after all.”

That caught this attention. He finally looked at her as if she was there, not an accessory on his arm.

“Right about what, My Lady?”

“That one should have all his agreements in writing.”

“I am sure that is prudent,” he acknowledged. “Though there are some agreements that are better kept off the books.”

“To give either party the opportunity to back out, My Lord?”

James smirked, slow and with that rehearsed wariness that wouldn’t have the same impact if Diana hadn’t seen his mask crack.

“To give either party the opportunity to… amend the terms, My Lady.”

Diana arched an eyebrow and clenched her jaw. She wasn’t sure what vexed her more, the fake way he was toying with her or the fact that he was trying to weasel his way out of their agreement.

“A safeguard for those who lack the fortitude to see their commitments through, perhaps, My Lord?”

For a moment, it seemed like he would let her remark slide. Let her win. But then, just as she started to wonder if she had truly backed him into a corner, he let out a slow, deliberate breath and turned to her.

“Careful, My Lady. One might think you are challenging me.”

He has a pulse, after all.

Diana decided it’s time to see if this was going somewhere. She decided not to take his advice and be the exact opposite of careful.

“I am starting to think that you were right, My Lord,” she challenged.

“That is rare of you to admit.”

“You did say that gossip was nothing if not exaggerated. It seems that it applies to you, too.”

James scowled and shot her a dark look. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what she was alluding to. For good measure, though, she found it imperative to drive her point home.

She gave him a saccharine smile, so overly sweet that he was already bracing for the sharp sting of her insult.

“Maybe the tales of your reputation had been embellished. Inflated .” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Or your expertise is more… theoretical.”

He straightened to his full height, looking taller, more intimidating. His eyes darkened, and he regarded her like a hunter debating whether he should devour his kill whole now or save some of it for later.

Then, he leaned in slowly. Painfully slow. The perfectly trimmed pathways of Hyde Park, the promenading lords and ladies, and even her chaperone faded into the background. Their existence was blurred into insignificance as long as he looked at her like that.

“Tell me, Diana,” he almost growled. “Did last night feel theoretical to you?”

No!

Diana simply gave up. There was nothing theoretical about him. He was real, pulsing and… practical. Hearing him growl like that, she realized that maybe she bit more than she could chew. She looked at him, all challenge lost.

“Welcome to our second promenade, My Lord.” She blushed.

He didn’t argue. He knew exactly what she was talking about and wouldn’t even waste his breath on denying it.

“And now that I am here? What should we do about it, My Lady?”

“You are asking me? It’s a good thing I’m not paying for your services, My Lord. Your reputation suggested I would be receiving far better guidance. Should I reconsider my investment?”

He laughed at that.

Diana felt a surge of pride rushing through her. It seemed easy to make him lose control like he almost did last night. But to make him laugh? To make him truly laugh? That was rare.

“I was merely trying to get an answer out of you,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Ah, so you fancy yourself a Socrates, then? I thought he was executed for being an unbearable nuisance.”

“Not before he changed the world with his words. Will you have me drink hemlock before I can share my wisdom with you?”

“I wouldn’t dream about it, My Lord. I prefer my philosophers alive. Although if we are comparing you to philosophers, then I’d have to admit that you are closer to Epicurus than Socrates.”

“I see. Is it because he sought pleasure?”

Diana’s jaw dropped. Of all the things she expected when she weaved that analogy, him getting the butt of the joke with such ease was not one of them.

“The lady thought that I was an uneducated rake.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

Diana schooled her expression to mask her surprise and tilted her head with interest. “I must admit that I find it refreshing that you read. ”

“You unsheathed your sword again, My Lady.” James pretended he was wounded.

“I am sure you will survive. Epicureans are quite resilient, after all.”

“I do not identify myself as one, though.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I must admit that I am intrigued. Which philosopher speaks to you more, My Lord?”

“Judging by the times I have read Meditations, I must admit that Marcus Aurelius is the one I admire most.”

Diana’s eyes widened, and she faltered for a second. Meditations . Her favorite book.

He caught it, her disbelief, ever watching every little change in her face and body. “I see that you approve.”

“I do.”

“You seem surprised, My Lady.”

“Let’s say that I am reevaluating some assumptions I had made hastily.”

His eyes darkened, and his smirk widened. “Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”

Machiavelli. He was quoting Machiavelli to her, and he managed to make it sound so debauched and wickedly alluring.

“Whereas I…” He was relentless, not letting her catch her breath. “… as you may have noticed, I am not the least surprised to find you so well-versed in philosophy.”

“I feel as if I am obliged to say thank you.”

Diana realized exactly what he just explained to her. He considered her deep knowledge of philosophy a given.

“You’re welcome, My Lady.”

“I gather, then, that you actually studied while in university.”

“Would it ruin the carefully cultivated air of mystery I’ve worked so hard to maintain if I told you I was the captain of Pop? And later, a rather infamous presence at the Oxford Union?”

Diana blinked. “Infamous? What a recurrent theme for you, My Lord.”

“Let’s say my opponents did not leave debates unscathed. Not all wounds are of the flesh, My Lady.”

The way he said ‘flesh’ awakened hers. Their philosophical banter, the way he overturned the poor opinion she had of him without being insulted, and the way he elevated her by not being surprised that she was well-read did things to her that she struggled to control.

“So, you were a formidable debater then, My Lord.”

“A skill that your wit is putting to the test.”

Calling her beautiful or any other of those nonsensical compliments would mean nothing to her. But this man knew exactly what she needed to hear. His praise of her wits made her heart skip a beat and her stomach flutter.

Diana glanced up at him, the blue of his eyes darker than before. Her gaze flicked—too quickly—to his lips before she realized what she was doing and looked away. But it was too late. He had seen it. And worse, he knew .

“Oh, Lady Diana, what a waste it would be not to see the Chinese magnolia in bloom,” he said far too loudly.

What?

Diana almost lost her balance at the absurdity of his comment. What did Chinese magnolias have anything to do with?—

“A Chinese magnolia, you say, My Lord?” Mrs. Bremford, her chaperone, piped up. “I have never seen one.”

Oh, he is an absolute scoundrel.

Diana slightly shook her head as she squinted at him. He shrugged with a devious smile as he turned to the old woman.

“That is a loss that must be remedied.” James used all his polished charm on the unsuspecting maid. “It is a rare beauty. And it is said that its scent surpasses that of the most intoxicating roses.”

Mrs. Bremford’s eyes shone with excitement. Diana was ready to applaud him for his performance, but he was not done yet.

“Alas, I am afraid I do not remember its exact location.”

He dashed the old woman’s hopes, only to revive them again.

“I do know it is somewhere near that old gazebo.” He pointed at a small marble ledge. “But the trees are so thick that it would take some time for the three of us to cover the ground in time. I promise that next time?—”

“I can go this way,” Mrs. Bremford offered promptly, “and you can go around the gazebo, and we will alert each other when we locate it.”

“What an excellent idea!” James beamed. “How haven’t I thought about it?”

He had barely finished his sentence when the old woman walked away from them at a speed admirable for her age.

“Is there at least a Chinese magnolia?” Diana scolded as he pulled her quite indecently to the gazebo.

“Do you think me so cruel?” he murmured as he guided her away from prying eyes.

“Yes.”

He looked upon her with something that bordered on amusement and dark desire, and she completely forgot what she was scolding him about.

“Now, my eager student, where were we?”

She barely had time to process what he said when his lips descended on hers.

Diana was lost. Utterly, irrevocably lost.

She gasped against his mouth, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss with a hunger that nearly made her knees buckle. His tongue slid into her mouth, caressing hers in a slow, tantalizing rhythm meant to unravel her. And it did.

Diana lost command of her body as she clutched at his coat in despair, fighting to keep her balance and not float away. She moved her lips boldly against his, coaxing a deep groan from him. One that spread fire through her body.

James wrapped both hands around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Then, he broke the kiss. Diana was ready to protest, her whole being cold at the loss of his lips, but he was quick to bring back the heat.

He kissed down her jaw while one hand explored her side. He breathed over the sensitive skin of her neck, and she gasped.

“Those little sounds you make, Diana,” he groaned.

He pressed her against the cold marble of the gazebo, letting her feel his full length, the hard muscles rippling under the trappings of his clothes.

“James,” she panted.

A groan rumbled in his chest when his name was uttered by the lips that were swollen from his kiss. He placed an open-mouthed kiss over the pulse point in her neck only to feel it flutter.

His mouth lingered there, savoring the wild rhythm beneath her skin. His lips trailed lower, hot and deliberate, pressing against the hollow of her throat, before moving right where her shoulder met her neck and he bit softly.

“Oh God!” she gasped.

His hands glided from her waist to her ribs, slow and measured. His touch burned through the fabric of her gown, setting fire to nerves she never knew existed. His thumb grazed the underside of her breast, just a whisper of sensation, yet she felt it everywhere and shivered.

“Should I stop, Diana?” He silently begged her to say no.

She shook her head frantically.

Diana didn’t know what she was agreeing to, but she would rather die and be buried under the Chinese magnolia than give up the bliss she was lost in. She arched into his touch, his body trapping and freeing her.

“Such a fast learner, indeed,” he breathed against her sensitive skin.

His fingers slid up, cupping her breasts. Diana lost all command of her body while feeling fully aware of it. James groaned and tried the weight of her breasts in his palm, kneading softly while his tongue tasted her neck.

“James!” She was trembling now.

“That’s it, Diana. Feel this.”

His touch was slow, deliberate, yet hungry. Then, he rolled his thumb over her erect nipple. Her head fell backward, and a whimper escaped her lips. It barely left her mouth before he captured it with his own.

James kissed her in a slow, languid, lazy way in sync with his fingers, which were massaging her breasts. Over the fabric, which did nothing to cool the heat of his touch, he ran a persistent thumb over her aching nipple coaxingly.

“Oh, I…” she whispered against his lips, her breath mingling with his.

He chuckled, his other hand splayed on the small of her back as he pulled her against him. Diana felt his ardor and was ready to lose her mind. Only to have it emptied by a simple flick of his thumb.

“You learn so beautifully, My Lady,” he murmured between kisses, not stopping until she was trembling in his arms.

“Lady Diana! Lord Crawford! I found it!” Mrs. Bremford’s voice called.

Diana panicked, but James held her firmly against him and placed a long, languorous kiss on her lips.

“Pity,” he said with a dark smirk as he straightened her dress. “I was ready to begin my favorite lesson.”

Diana had never felt so eager to further her education.