Darrius knew that Benedict accentuated the word thrust and he glared at him for it. Benedict was spinning a plan that involved every single thing Darrius wanted. A careful seduction meant to give Darrius no choice but surrender. He started to step away, but Benedict caught his arm. He dragged him closer, their chests colliding.
“I know what you want, Darrius. You know, too. Are you going to run away like you always do?” He lifted a hand and slid his fingers into Darrius’s hair. “Or are you going to allow this? For her. For you. For me.”
Darrius wanted to grab him. To kiss him on the mouth, something he’d never done before. He’d back him across the room, onto the desk, and take Benedict in his mouth. To bend him over the same desk and take his arse until they were both writhing in pleasure.
But instead he stepped away. Benedict released him this time, watching as he went back to the desk and sat down. At least his own cockstand wouldn’t be so obvious now.
“Have you ever considered that this might be too far for her?” Darrius asked. “Wanting to be desired or not, the lady is likely an innocent. Watching something erotic and doing it are two different things.”
“Then why don’t we ask her?” Benedict said.
Darrius snapped his mouth shut at the suggestion. One he had no way to deny. Vanessa had spent her life having no say in what happened to her, the exchange with her hideous parents had proven that. He couldn’t be so cruel as to deny her all the options for her future now.
“Fine,” he ground out. “We will bring the subject up tomorrow…delicately.”
The heat that leapt to Benedict’s eyes was so intense that Darrius was glad he was sitting down because he was certain he would have gone weak in the knees.
“Now I’m going to bed,” Darrius said, and got to his feet.
Benedict didn’t move. “Yours or mine?”
“Mine,” Darrius replied, and looked away from Benedict. Benedict snorted a humorless laugh and turned away, but before he could leave the room and end this charged conversation, Darrius called out, “Benedict?”
He turned back, almost hopeful. “Yes?”
“If we do this…share her…it will be about her. Not each other.”
Some of the pleasure left Benedict’s expression and he pursed his lips. “That seems a shame, Darrius, potentially for everyone involved. But I’ve never forced you to do anything. I won’t start now.”
He left then, without so much as a farewell, and Darrius leaned back in his chair, letting his head hit the rest with a thud. Benedict was correct in what he’d said. In the years since their first passionate encounter in Darrius’s old room in London, he had never pushed. Never asked for more. But he had certainly forced Darrius in ways he feared to name. Forced him to want. Forced him to long.
Forced him to bind up his aching heart so he didn’t do anything that might break his world.
CHAPTER 5
Vanessa
The next afternoon, Vanessa had considered sitting in the library. It was a beautiful room, after all, with many interesting books. Only when she peeked in, she’d only been able to look at the settee where she’d witnessed the erotic sight of Merritt with her men. She couldn’t sit here and pretend away her arousal and curiosity.
So she’d retreated to a small parlor on the other end of the hallway and now she sat in a chair before the fire, trying to focus on needlepoint, but unable to complete a row of stitches without having to pick them all loose and start again.
“An inauspicious start,” she grunted.
She tossed the needlepoint aside at last and got up to go to the window. Outside, Merritt, Egerton and Mr. Reid were all loading into a carriage to go to the village for the afternoon. It was something Vanessa hadn’t been able to do, herself. Too many eyes would be watching, too many whispers would happen when everyone knew she was supposed to have married yesterday.
And honestly, even if that hadn’t been true, Vanessa wasn’t certain she could manage being alone with her friend and her two lovers. Even now, as Vanessa watched from above, Merritt was smiling as Egerton helped her up into the rig, his gaze following her every move. Vanessa shook her head and pivoted away from the image only to find Benedict and Mr. Warwick coming into the parlor together.
Heat rushed to her face immediately. After all, the two of them had been the subjects of her most wicked fantasies the night before. “Oh, good—good afternoon,” she stammered.
“Good afternoon,” Mr. Warwick returned first, his bright blue gaze sliding over her from head to toe before he dropped it away.
“Vanessa,” Benedict said with a warmer expression, kinder, but still sharp and focused on her.
She had to be imagining things to feel their regard so strongly. She shook away the inappropriate reactions and stepped closer. “I must thank you, yet again, Mr. Warwick, for allowing me to stay here a little longer. I have no idea what my future holds, but not having to make every decision immediately is a great relief.”
Benedict exchanged a brief glance with Warwick and tilted his head. “That is…that’s why we’ve come to speak to you this afternoon, Vanessa. That very future.”
“Very well, Benedict.” She blushed as she glanced toward Warwick. “Er, Mr. Norfolk.”
