Not Quite a Husband Read Online Free PDF

wished to drink him in whenever she could
.
    That was, until he kissed her
.
    It was at the house of his eldest brother, the Earl of Wyden. Specifically, in the library, while a musical soiree raged in the drawing room. She had been quite dejected by his absence—she’d been sure he’d be there, since he was temporarily lodging with the Wydens. But she couldn’t leave yet, as Callista, who’d wanted no human contact as a child, had somehow developed as an adult a great fondness of large gatherings of Homo sapiens
.
    So she’d sought solace in an encyclopedia
. Incunabula. Indazoles. Indene. Index Librorum Prohibitorum.
    Abruptly she became aware that she was no longer alone in the library. He stood just inside, his back against the door
.
    “Mr. Marsden!” How long had he been there, watching her?
    “Miss Asquith.”
    His regard was unsmiling. She was not used to this seriousness from him, he who was always in the merriest of
moods. Then he did smile, one of his dazzling smiles that restored sight to the blind and instilled music in the deaf. But even that smile had an undercurrent to it that made her heart do medically worrisome things
.
    “I wouldn’t read at that desk if I were you,” he said
.
    “Oh?”
    “Both Charlie and Will lost their virginity on that desk.”
    Her hand went to her bare throat. The pulse under her thumb hammered. “Goodness,” she managed. It was better than an outright squeak, but not by much
.
    “Why don’t you come away?” he said with a deceptive gentleness
.
    She would dearly love to, but for some reason, her legs were quite rubbery. “Surely
, my
virtue should be quite safe in this house.”
    He left the door, came to the edge of the desk, and smiled again, a smile beatific enough to bring about peace on Earth. “Has anyone ever made an effort to rid you of your virtue, Miss Asquith?”
    She couldn’t remember ever having such a startlingly inappropriate conversation. Yet she did not want him to stop. His words had a darkly pleasurable effect on her, like very fine liqueur mixed with very fine chocolate
.
    “Nobody is interested in my virtue. Or the riddance of it.”
    “That can’t be true.”
    “It is.”
    “All right, if you insist. But one can sin a great deal with a woman of intact virtue.”
    Good gracious.
She swallowed. “I’m sure one can. But I assure you, sir, my sins, whatever they are, are not of the carnal variety.”
    “Mine are,” he murmured. “Whatever else they are, they are
also
of the carnal variety.”
    “Well, how very … diverting for you.”
    He moved even closer, next to the chair in which she sat. “I must confess, Miss Asquith, I feel an urgent need to make up for the attention the masculine species owes you.”
    “I’m—I’m quite certain that the masculine species owes me nothing.”
    He leaned forward and placed his hand on the armrest of the chair. “I disagree strongly.”
    She pushed her body against the back of the chair. “And how will you rectify things?”
    “Make love to you, of course, thoroughly and tirelessly.”
    So much of her melted that she was surprised she did not slide under the table. “Here?!”
    This time, it
was
a squeak, quivering and breathless
.
    “Did I not warn you about this desk and the iniquity it inspires? You should have left when you could. It’s too late now.”
    He whispered those last words almost directly against her lips. Her heart slammed, like an unsecured shutter in a windstorm. Far away in the drawing room someone more
ambitious than talented launched into the opening bars of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Here in a corner of the library she understood for the first time that yes, it was exactly
this
that she sought from him, this proximity, this great disequilibrium
.
    He laughed then, a burst of mirth, as if he’d been keeping a straight face a long time and finally could no more. “I’m sorry. You looked so studious when I came in, I couldn’t help myself.”
    It took her