Craving the Rake's Touch (Rakes of the Caribbean) Read Online Free PDF Page B

as he dared a slow step forward, approaching as if she was a skittish mare. “I’d dare far more than penitence for you.” She hadn’t grabbed up the vase on the table beside the chair. He’d take that as a good sign. He took another step and ventured another piece of the truth. “I want you, Sarah, and you want me. You were living fire in my arms a moment ago and I brought you pleasure this afternoon. There’s no reason to deny it.” He paused, weighing the moment, the timing. He played his ace. “You’re going to marry someone, why not me?”
    He was close enough to touch her, close enough to draw her into his arms. Slowly, surely, she came, her eyes watching his face, looking for signs of...something. “Benedict, I don’t know.” She began her protests.
    He put a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to know right now, Sarah. We’ll take it one night at a time.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Let me persuade you.”

Chapter Eight
    Let me persuade you. We’ll take it one night at a time. Benedict had a
serpent’s own tongue. This was absolute madness! He’d promised marriage before
and failed to follow through. Why would this time be any different? Or perhaps
it couldn’t be different. Only this time, it was she
who couldn’t allow it. She had to marry money and Benedict didn’t have any, not
in the sums she needed. Yet, those arguments held no sway here as they ventured
out into the dark hallway and mounted the staircase, her hand gripped in
his.
    The import that they were headed for her bedroom was not lost on
her. It was one thing to couple on the moderate comfort of a divan in a library
in the midst of a ball, where haste was required by two people overcome with
youthful desire. It was another thing entirely to deliberately seek the
sanctuary of a room specifically designed for intimacy, a place where they would
not be disturbed, where no haste was required. They had all night.
    The very thought of such a night spent with one of London’s most
notorious lovers was enough to send her pulse soaring. That the man in question
should be Benedict was positively heart-stopping. It was perhaps the most wicked
thing she’d ever done. It was also quite likely one of the most honest. Maybe
even the most honest thing she’d done in this entire
Season of deceit and playacting, pretending to be something she was not.
    But not tonight, Sarah thought as Benedict ushered her inside, a
hand warm at the small of her back. Tonight was going to be different. Tonight
she was not going to pretend she didn’t care a whit for Benedict DeBreed. She
wasn’t going to hide behind sharp words and an armor of haughtiness. Tonight she
wasn’t going to ignore the flutter in her stomach whenever he was in the room.
She wasn’t going to deny herself the thrill of his touch, or the way he made her
feel when he spoke to her, looked at her with those eyes—as if she was the only
woman who mattered. Tonight would be for her, for all she’d given up in order to
be the good girl her parents had raised her to be.
    The door shut softly behind her, her gaze suddenly riveted on the
bed dominating the room, but she turned at the sound of Benedict’s voice, low
and intent, as he uttered four simple words. “Are you sure, Sarah?”
    He leaned against the frame, his eyes twin green flames as he
studied her, leaving no doubt that he was sure and
yet it was the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him. He wanted, waited , for her compliance. He would advance no
further without it.
    But she would. The next move had to be hers and it had to be a
bold one. Sarah stepped toward him, her hands resting at the waist of his
trousers, her mouth seeking, her answer whispered between kisses. “Yes, I’m
absolutely sure.”
    Sarah tugged the tails of his shirt loose, fingers trembling as
they worked the studs free. Knowing there was a need for boldness and actually being bold were two different things, but Sarah
suspected her hands would have