A Lady of Persuasion (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #3)

His fingertip brushed the place between her eyebrows. “Always so serious,” he teased. Smiling, he withdrew a small box. “I have a wedding present for you.”


Bel took the box and opened it. Cradled on a bed of blue velvet lay a magnificent pendant, set with an iridescent opal as big as her fingernail and ringed with sparkling diamonds. “Oh, Toby. You shouldn’t have.”

“Of course I should. I know you’re not much for extravagant jewels. Little do you need them, beautiful as you are. But you are Lady Aldridge now, and if you’re to be a lady of influence, you must look the part.” He plucked the necklace from its box and laced the chain through his fingers. Between them, the pendant twirled, flashing in the firelight. “There are several more valuable pieces in the family, of course, and those will be yours as well. But I wanted to select something especially for you. Did I choose well?”

The pendant bobbed just a bit as he dangled it, and Bel caught a flash of anxiety in his eyes. Sweet man. He was genuinely worried that she might not like it. Her heart squeezed. That hint of uncertainty endeared him to her more than any gift could possibly have done. That, more than anything, showed that he cared.

“You chose perfectly. I adore it, thank you.”

“May I put it on you?”

“Now?”

“Yes, of course.” He circled behind her, undoing the clasp of the necklace with sure fingers.

“I’ll tell you a secret. This is the real reason a gentleman gives his lady a necklace. For the pleasure of fastening it round her neck.”

“Truly?” Bel shuddered as his fingers brushed the sensitive skin above her collarbone.

“Truly. And lucky me, you’ve even left your hair up.”

“I should have let the maid take it down.” Bel cringed. Her maid had asked, and she hadn’t known what to tell her. Her hair … there was so much of it. It had such a habit of getting in the way.

“No, no. It will be my pleasure to do so later. For now, it makes it all the easier for me to do this…” The weight of the pendant settled between her br**sts as he fastened the clasp. “And this…” His touch whispered up to caress the soft place beneath her ear.

“And this …” His open mouth pressed against her nape, warm and wet, his breath rushing over her sensitized flesh.

“Oh.” Her knees buckled, and she fell back against his chest. But he was there to support her, so tall and strong.

Light kisses feathered down the column of her neck, each one sending a current of pleasure straight to the soles of her feet. And then his tongue … oh, his tongue climbed a path straight to her ear, and desire screamed through her. At least, Bel thought she might scream—or faint, or plead, or do something else equally mortifying, like melt into a puddle at his feet. She seemed to be melting already, at the juncture of her thighs.

He drew her earlobe into his mouth and suckled it lightly. Oh. Oh. Yes, something unmistakably liquid was happening down there. Ohhh … dear. She tensed every muscle in her body, attempting to solidify her will and her person.

He stopped instantly. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly. Too quickly to be credible.

“Forgive me. I’m moving too fast. We have the whole night ahead of us. Perhaps you’d prefer to rest?”

“No. No, I think I’d rather …”

“Have it over with?” His soft laugh tickled her ear.

“Yes. I mean …” Bel’s face burned as she realized how ungracious she sounded. “That is, unless you don’t want to.”

His voice went dark. “Oh, I want to. I very much want to.” His hands slid to her hips, and for the first time Bel noticed something hard and hot pressing into her lower back. She knew it had to be his manhood. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”

Her breath caught. Against her crossed arms, her ni**les hardened and ached. And what was the polite response to such an admission? Thank you? Sir, you flatter me? Please be gentle, and if at all possible, quick?

At the heart of the matter, Bel wasn’t sure how to respond simply because she wasn’t sure how she felt about the entire enterprise. Her racing pulse, her quickened breath, the heightened awareness of all her senses—her body was readying for something. She just didn’t know what. Excitement and terror mingled in her veins, and she couldn’t tell whether her instincts were urging her to fly at her husband or simply flee the room.

Of course, the second was not an option at all. She was married now, and conjugal relations were her wifely duty. The thought calmed her. Bel might not know what to make of this unruly sensation, but she understood duty. And she wanted to make Toby happy, she did. Closing her eyes, she resolved to focus on him—on the warm, solid planes of his chest supporting her frame, his confident hands grasping her shoulders, the heat of his breath against her ear. He was her husband, and she could deny him nothing.