“You think I’m kind?” she asked, forcing a smile on her face.
Delia still couldn’t believe how rude she had been to him the first time they’d met.
He shrugged a shoulder. “You can be kind, when fed.”
She swatted at his arm, happy for the lightness between them.
“What happened?” she whispered before relaxing back into his chest. “Clearly, you weren’t proven illegitimate.”
“He tried, but there were no lovers in my mother’s past or present, and there was one thing he couldn’t dispute.” He chuckled, the sound empty.
“What?” she peered up at him.
“He couldn’t dispute the infamous green eyes of every Wakefield ever born.” He laid his head back, like telling the story exhausted him.
Delia didn’t know what was worse, being a bastard or being accused of being one. “I’m sorry I misjudged you and didn’t allow you an introduction.”
He sat up, bringing her with him, then rose to his feet. Delia’s heart plummeted at the thought of him leaving her alone. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with her own thoughts.
Her mother’s pretense that she didn’t know who Delia was still stung, but it would not destroy her. Hunt was correct. Her mother didn’t define her. She did.
“Would you allow me one now?” He held out his hand.
“Yes.” Slipping her hand in his, Delia allowed him to guide her off the chaise lounge to stand in front of him.
“I am Hunter Wakefield, the Earl of March.” He bowed low, and Delia couldn’t stop the girlish giggle that left her. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Miss...”
“St. George, Adelia St. George.” She curtseyed, holding the skirts of her worn traveling dress. “The honor is all mine, my lord.”
It was a simple introduction, but Delia couldn’t help but think that if she had allowed him one at the Karringtons’ ball, her sister wouldn’t be on her way to Scotland to marry a pretender.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting her chin up.
“This is all my fault.” She ran her hand through her long thick hair, needing to braid it before she went to bed. “If I had allowed you an introduction, Margaret would have known who Augustus really was and she would not be facing ruination.”
His arms wrapped around her like he’d done it a thousand times before. It was easy and comfortable between them, and Delia never wanted it to change.
“I promise that I will do everything in my power to protect your sister’s reputation. If that means forcing my swine of a cousin to marry her, then I will make it happen. Although I’m not sure I would shackle any woman to Augustus.”
“Why?” She had to know the reason that he allowed her to join him. He’d been kind to her the entire time and now was vowing to save her sister’s reputation.
One of his hands cupped her cheek, sending a thrill of anticipation down her spine. “Because from the moment I saw you, I knew I’d do anything to see you smile, at least once.”
“I rarely smile for anyone, but I’ll smile for you anytime.” A wide smile spread across her lips.
She didn’t think. No one mattered in that moment but him and her. Not her mother, her father, Society, not even her sweet, sweet sister. It was just Delia and the Earl of March.
Standing on her tiptoes, she placed her hands around his neck, pulling their bodies closer. Her lips ghosted beneath his, her breath coming out slow and steady.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I won’t take advantage of you.”
She nodded her head, realizing again how absolutely wrong she had been about him. “What if I want you too?”
Before he could answer, Delia pressed her lips to his.
His arms tightened around her, anchoring her to him. Soft, firm lips pressed against hers, hesitant at first, and then he commanded her with his body. Taking her bottom lip between his, he nibbled softly, followed by the slow caress of his tongue to soothe the sting of his bite.
The groan of pleasure he released from the first taste of her had Delia’s knees quivering as his tongue explored. Their mouths never left each other’s as the kiss deepened, becoming nearly frantic. His hands roamed her body.
