She lifted her head to gaze at him, and his chest tightened at the sheen of moisture in her eyes.
“I screamed and ran into the hall, calling for Father and Mother. They were already stirring and went for help at once.” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “My pony died in the fire, and I have never forgotten the fear and heartache I experienced.”
He cupped her head, stroking the back of her neck with his thumb. “I am sorry, darling. I wish I could have been there for you.”
“There is nothing you could have done.”
“Perhaps not, but I would have tried,” Graham said, wishing he could make her fear and pain disappear. When had she become so dear to him?
“You can help now,” Phoebe said as she studied him.
“How?” Graham asked, though based on the sultry look she was bestowing on him, he already knew.
“Kiss me. Kiss me and don’t stop until the storm has passed.”
Graham nearly groaned aloud as he pulled her back to him. The woman drove him half-mad with desire. Did she even know what such words did to a man? He would stake his prize stallion on the fact she did not. Still, he was powerless in the face of her seductive looks and saucy words.
She relaxed into his kiss, parting her lips in an invitation he could not ignore. He slid his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth to tangle with hers. Her gentle caresses stoked his flames of passion as he kissed across her jaw and down to her neck, where he nipped and suckled her delicate flesh.
Graham gathered her skirt up in one hand, sliding it up her thigh as he kissed a trail across her collarbone. Phoebe bent one knee, her breaths coming in pants as he caressed her bare thigh. He found the soft curls nestled between her legs and stroked his finger across her opening.
Phoebe moaned with pleasure, causing his cock to twitch with need. “I need…more,” she said with a breathy sigh.
He slipped his finger into her heat and caressed as she arched and bucked against his hand. When her insides tightened, he rubbed his thumb back and forth across the tiny nub above her opening. “Let go, darling. Come for me.”
She held his shoulders as she moaned and ground against him, taking what she wanted. Then let her head fall back as her orgasm raked through her. Graham lowered his head to her belly as he fumbled with his breeches. A desperate need to bury himself in her clutched him like an iron fist.
Phoebe brought her hand to his head and feathered her fingers through his hair. “Am I wicked for saying I hope we do that often once we are wed?”
His blood chilled at the reminder, and he rolled off the sofa. How the devil had he let this happen again? He’d taken advantage of her weakness and nearly claimed her innocence. He was the worst sort of scoundrel.
Graham pushed his hand through his hair and ground his teeth. “I should not have touched you.”
Phoebe grinned up at him, her eyes still shrouded with passion. “Nonsense. We are to be married. I belong to you.”
“No, you do not.” He fastened his breeches as he continued. “There is still time to break the engagement.”
She swung around to sit, glaring at him. “I already told you I will not call it off.”
“Phoebe, you must,” he said, his tone stern.
She narrowed her gaze and tilted her head a fraction, as though contemplating. “Why?”
“I will make you miserable. My reputation will put an irreversible stain on yours.”
“You think it has not already?”
He sat on the chair across from her. “You do not understand. Our peers accept me because I am a duke, but they do not respect me. They curtsey and bow to me, then whisper behind my back. A few are even brazen enough to treat me rudely when they are forced to endure my company. Most address me with indifference. The same will be true for you.”
“Rubbish.” Phoebe sliced the air with her hand. “You will reform, and they will forgive you. If they do not, then to the devil with them.”
His lips curved upward at her sharp words and the conviction he saw in her eyes, but he could not falter. “I want better for you. The children you eventually have deserve better, too.”
“My children will be with you.” She squared her shoulders with conviction.
“You do not understand what you are saying. I am a rogue, incapable of change.” He bolted to his feet and paced across the room. “Good God, Phoebe, I just ravished you with no intention of going through with the marriage.” He turned back to her and delivered the final blow. “You will not be the mother of my firstborn, for he already has one.”
Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell open in surprise. She could not seem to find the words to express her shock, but her wide eyes said it all.
