“Just like a damned man, he thought exasperatedly. She got what she wanted, then curled up and went to sleep.That was what he was supposed to do, blast and confound her bloody impudence.”
“Good God!" she cried. She rolled off him, tugging down her clothing. "Are you mad?"He blinked and dragged in air. "Well, yes," he said thickly. "Lust does that to a man.""You thought we could-you would-do...that? In public?"I wasn't thinking about where we were."Her eyes widened."I'm a man," he said with what he was sure must be, in the circumstances, saintly patience. "I can do one or the other. Lovemaking or thinking. But not both at the same time.”
“Dain wasn't certain what exactly was wrong with her, but he had no doubt that something was. He was Lord Beelzebub, wasn't he? She was supposed to faint, or recoil in horrified revulsion at the very least. Yet she had gazed at him as bold as brass, and it had seemed for a moment as though the creature were actually flirting with him.”
“The whole thing’s absurd,” he said. “Your sister married a duke. I told Clevedon . . .” he trailed off.“What did you tell him?”“Never mind that now,” he said.“I certainly will mind it now,” she said.“Do you want to find Clara or do you want to quarrel?” he said.“Preferably both,” she said.”
“Bertie’s gaze fell there and his blue eyes widened. “Deuce take you, Jess,” he said crossly. “Can’t a fellow trust you for a moment? How many times do I have to tell you to leave my friends alone?”Miss Trent coolly withdrew her hand.Trent gave Dain an apologetic look. “Don’t pay it any mind, Dain. She does that to all the chaps. I don’t know why she does it, when she don’t want ‘em. Just like them fool cats of Aunt Louisa’s. Go to all the bother of catching a mouse, and then the confounded things won’t eat ’em. Just leave the corpses lying about for someone else to pick up.”Miss Trent’s lips quivered.”
“That man," she said in low but still audible tones, "is an idiot.""Yes, madam, but he's all we've got.""I may be stupid," Rupert said, "but I'm irresistibly attractive.""Good grief, conceited too," she muttered."And being a great, dumb ox," he went on, "I'm wonderfully easy to manage."She paused and turned to Beechey. "Are you sure there's no one else?”
“You'll want all your strength for the wedding night." I cannot think why I should need strength," she said, ignoring a host of spine-tingling images rising in her mind's eye. "All I have to do is lie there." "Naked," he said grimly. "Truly?" She shot him a glance from under her lashes. "Well, if I must, I must, for you have the advantage of experience in these matters. Still, I do wish you'd told me sooner. I should not have put the modiste to so much trouble about the negligee." "The what?" "It was ghastly expensive," she said, "but the silk is as fine as gossamer, and the eyelet work about the neckline is exquisite. Aunt Louisa was horrified. She said only Cyprians wear such things, and it leaves nothing to the imagination." Jessica heard him suck in his breath, felt the muscular thigh tense against hers. "But if it were left to Aunt Louisa," she went on,"I should be covered from my chin to my toes in thick cotton ruffled with monstrosities with little bows and rosebuds. Which is absurd, when an evening gown reveals far more, not to mention--" "What color?" he asked. His low voice had roughened. "Wine red," she said, "With narrow black ribbons threaded through the neckline. Here." She traced a plunging U over her bosom. "And there's the loveliest openwork over my...well, here." She drew her finger over the curve of her breast a bare inch above the nipple. "And openwork on the right side of the skirt. From here" --she pointed to her hip--"down to the hem. And I bought---" "Jess." Her name was a strangled whisper. "--slippers to match," she continued." Black mules with--" "Jess." In one furious flurry of motion he threw down the reins and hauled her into his lap.”