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Dangerous Little Secret
One bashful lady discovers her dashing husband might be a traitor to their country.
One Bashful Lady
© 2007 Brenda Williamson
Desmond Rawlington, Marquess of Dunsmore and seductive charmer, needs a Delacorte sister as a wife. When the eldest elopes, Desmond marries Ainsley only to find himself falling in love with the enchanting young woman, despite her quirky habit of hiding behind draperies.
Lady Ainsley Delacorte, the shyest person anyone has ever met, is nervous around servants, overwhelmed by the ton and forced into marriage. Her reluctance fades with her husband’s sinfully romantic touch, but she can’t forget he’s involved in a traitorous plot to return Napoleon to power.
When Ainsley is caught with an incriminating letter she stole from her husband, Desmond intervenes. Will they face the gallows or can love save them?
Enjoy the following excerpt for One Bashful Lady:
Ainsley had a way of making the idea of kissing a major event, instead of a prelude to the wedding night they had yet to share. Desmond folded his hand around her neck. He didn’t forget where they were. Instead, he chose to ignore the music and chatter outside the pantry.
He wanted to touch her smooth skin and taste her sweet breasts.
“M’lord, is something wrong?”
Her fingers tapped against the front of his jacket. He didn’t like that she was nervous. Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue slid along the edge of her teeth. He lowered his head and her mouth sought his for the first time.
The candy masked some of the sourness of her breath, but he was reminded of her upset stomach and drew away.
“Do you feel all right…I mean right now?” Even her sickness couldn’t stop his attraction to her.
“Much better. Sometimes a crowd can be overwhelming.”
He resumed the kiss and her lips glided delicately over his. She shuffled closer, between his parted legs and pressed her hip into his groin. He held back from rubbing against her.
“I like kissing you, m’lord.”
“I like when you say my name while doing so.” He stroked the pulse in her neck.
“Desmond, please have patience with me.”
“If it seems I don’t at times, will you not take it personally?”
“I don’t understand.”
He turned her in his arms and kissed the side of her neck.
“It’ll never be you I’m angry with. Never.”
Her head dropped away and his mouth fit to the slender corded muscle from neck to shoulder.
“You don’t know that, not for sure. I may make an awful mistake one day.”
His hand held the curve of her breast and her hand held his. Gentle caresses over the back of his knuckles encouraged him to test the limits of her gown.
“I want to touch you.” He inched the gown up her leg.
“Here?” She tried to stop him. “We’re in the pantry, someone could come.”
Desmond found the crotch of her underpants already wet.
“M’lord.” She moved, not to get away, but to accommodate the width of his hand.
“You are a morsel for savoring.” He kissed her cheek. “It is a very good thing you’re my wife.”
“Oh?”
“Do not think I won’t enjoy every minute I can have with you.”
“Like a possession?”
“Like a lover,” he sighed against the damp curve of her jaw. “You have it in your power to possess me, Ainsley.”
“I would never be as bold as to believe I could.”
He massaged the ringlets covering the entrance to her sex and it produced a whimper from her.
“You don’t have a clue as to how desirable you are, do you?” He played with the hood of her clit.
She squirmed without protest. Her head turned sideways to hide her face with its rosy blush.
“Look at me, my Lady Dunsmore. I want to see your eyes.”
Everything, right down to her bashfulness, teased him with wonderful delight. He never thought he’d care to hold a woman untouched by a man. But every time she spoke, she created exquisite sensations that made him feel emotionally closer to her.
“Desmond, please, oh please, don’t do this here.” She shuddered and her nails dug into his sleeve.
Her legs trembled, her bottom pressed tighter to his erection. She wiggled against all the right places and he made her squirm more with each plunge of his finger.
She tensed as he stroked deeper. Her virginity intact, he kept a leash on the reaches he sought. The hymen would be his ultimate goal and pleasure, but it would come later, when he held her tight beneath him.
“Oh God, Desmond, please stop.” She struggled in his arms.
He kissed her and captured the reverberating sounds of her panted cries forced from her by an intense orgasm. Her slender frame fit to him. Each contour complimented his as if they were pieces of a puzzle someone put together.
He held her face and pressed his kiss deeper. She slumped against him in whimpers. Her languid body drooped in his hold. Retrieving the handkerchief he had used on her face, he took the clean side and wiped the silk between her legs. Her muscles quivered with each pass over the sensitive area.
“Desmond!” She tried to close her legs.
He wouldn’t let her walk from the room feeling uncomfortable with the excessive fluids running down the inside of her thighs.
She tried to back away from the ticklish brush of cloth on her dampened ringlets. Another minute of her bottom wriggling over his cock and he would explode. He’d have a large wet spot on his trousers and worse discomfort than Ainsley.
“Hold still,” he ordered and stopped touching her.
He hugged her and let his mind wander to the people beyond the paneled door. She shivered and he squeezed her to him while resting his cheek on top her auburn curls.
“I’m sorry.” She trembled. “I can’t stop shaking.”
“You will.”
He inhaled the perfume from her hair. Tugging her around, he wished they were in their room for the night. Her sex had the enticing scent of the rose water that she had bathed in before their journey.
“Desmond, I can’t go back out there. People will know what you did to me.”
“You’re my wife. My sweet, charming wife and if we had hours, I’d do more to pleasure your body than you could ever imagine.” He kissed her forehead.
“You were pleased, were you not?”
She nodded quickly.
“Good, because later”—he picked up her chin—“I want to make love to you for a very long time and it would be nice to have you enjoy my touch.”
“Oh, I do!”
Desmond grinned at the way the color heightened in her cheeks and she lowered her lashes.
Mortified by the intimate moment with Desmond, Ainsley felt awkward walking out of the pantry. The tension from her concern someone would guess what she’d been doing eased when he led her to where Edwina stood.
Surrounded by men as if they were honeybees ready to drink her sweet nectar, Edwina was the center of attention and that suited Ainsley.
Edwina didn’t take notice of her or Desmond right away. Her silky black hair swished back and forth as she talked rapidly, trying to captivate her audience of admirers, but Desmond’s intense stare eventually brought his sister’s gaze around to him.
Suddenly, Edwina stopped talking. “Lord Dunsmore.” She nodded toward him.
He gave her a bow. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
Edwina’s face wrinkled with annoyance and then smoothed back into a happy expression as she resumed speaking to the man on the other side of her.
“She doesn’t want you close by.” Ainsley tried to draw Desmond away.
“I know. That’s why I am.”