Tempted By a Rake (Wicked Widows’ League #21)

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

“What do you suggest we do, now that we are alone?” Demetrius asked, a wicked twinkle in his brown eyes.

Lavinia’s face heated and she was certain her cheeks would go up in flames even though there was still a chill in the room.

“More brandy?”

He lifted his glass to show that he’d hardly drunk any of what he had originally poured.

While Lavinia was enjoying the evening simply in conversation with Demetrius, she had hoped that he would seduce her once they were alone.

Would she need to seduce him?

If she truly wished to be a wicked widow, then perhaps that was what she should do. But how did a woman go about seducing a rake?

“I think I have always desired you, but did not realize it at the time.” Lavinia sucked in a breath when she realized that she had voiced her thoughts.

The corner of his mouth tipped. “How could you not?”

“Well, you are handsome, charming, and intelligent.” She laughed.

“I meant, how could you not realize, though I thank you for the compliment.” He chuckled.

“There was an attraction, which I became aware of that very first day. Then strange things would happen. My pulse would race and there were times you made me nervous and when our hands would accidently touch, there was an awareness that I did not understand.”

“You certainly hid your response well.”

“I needed your respect and for you to truly listen to what I was trying to explain at any given time.”

“I always listened, Lavinia,” he said quietly looking in her eyes.

“Often you humored,” she returned with an arched eyebrow.

“Perhaps, but I always made your changes.”

“Only because you did not want to anger my brother.”

“Had your requests gone against what was best for His Grace, I would have argued the point and then refused.”

She had not expected that answer. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“It appears that even back then I was being tempted by the rake and was unaware.”

Demetrius leaned forward. “I am not a rake.”

“But you are. I had you investigated, remember.”

“You had me followed and that person made assumptions that were inaccurate.”

“Did you visit brothels, actresses, lightskirts and widows?” she challenged.

“I did.”

“That would make you a rake.”

“I am not a rake.”

“I do not think less of you for being such,” she assured him.

“I would think less of me if I was.”

With that she frowned.

“The reason your investigator followed me to such places was because of what my mother endured. She had no choice. She was the daughter of a marquess and look at what she was reduced to. Women born into less than ideal circumstances are limited and many often turn to prostitution to survive.”

“What of the widows?”

“The financial security is usually controlled by whichever gentleman her husband deemed appropriate if there was not a son who had reached his majority.”

Lavinia believed that she was beginning to understand. “No different than when daughters are forced into an arranged marriage or convinced that a marriage of power is more important than love. Such as mine,” she whispered.

“Too often women are destitute or pawns, and I do what I can to help them gain some control, or better their circumstances, as a solicitor. Not a lover.” He shook his head and took a drink of his brandy. “When I was younger, yes, I did visit brothels with my friends. I was foolish and believed they were in a profession that they wished. It wasn’t until a few years after that I realized that they were victims of circumstances, much like my mother, and it sickened me.”

He stood and walked to the sideboard where he added more brandy to his glass.

“I will not pretend and claim that I have had no lover since, but it was never anyone who relied on such intimacy for survival, but a mutual need and desire.”

“A lonely widow,” she suggested quietly.

He nodded. “It was because they missed the intimacy once shared with their husbands. We were friends and shared an attraction. There was no transaction involved. Simply two people who were taking comfort and pleasure with the other.”

“I understand. No different than me.”

He looked up, his eyes boring into hers. “You will always be different from them.”

Lavinia swallowed, not certain what to make of his words, though there was an intensity behind his tone.

“You are an honorable man, Demetrius.”

“I try to be.” He took a drink. “Except where you are concerned.”

“I do not understand.”

“Honor would demand that I not seek you as a lover because you are better than me. Yet my need for you is great. A passion and desire that I have never experienced before. But I fear that you will regret our actions if I seduce you.”

At least he still wanted her.

“It is my decision to make and I wish you would stop viewing us as being of a different status. It does not matter,” she insisted. “I had not even realized that there was the possibility of pleasure and I want to know…experience the possibilities. More importantly, I want it to be you, Demetrius, nobody else, and I can promise I will never ever regret what may occur between us even if it means that I must be the one to seduce you.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, Lavinia, you already do. It is the touch of your hand, the side of your neck that beckons for a kiss. It is the gentle sway when you walk and the way your eyes darken after we have kissed. It is the swell of breasts above your bodice even though you did not dress to tempt, and the scent of honeysuckle when you are near. It is the memories of your gasps and sighs as you neared your first release that kept me awake last night. A practiced courtesan could not make me want her with even a quarter of the desire I experience when you simply walk in the room.”

She wanted to be seduced and Demetrius was done fighting his desire. Tonight, she would be his.

With those thoughts he rose from his chair and settled beside her on the settee and as he pulled her into his arms the clock in the entry chimed ten and he stopped.

“What is wrong?”

“Max needs to be let out or I have no idea what I may discover when I return later.” Or tomorrow, he did not add.

“I can go. He does prefer me,” she teased.

“We shall both go. Put your shoes back on and go upstairs for your cloak.”

While she was gone, he scattered some of the wood within the fireplace so that it would burn individually and quicker, then set the screen to keep sparks from flying out and was waiting for Lavinia when she returned downstairs.

“We should not be long,” he promised.

Instead of offering his arm, or holding her hand, Demetrius put an arm around her waist as they hurried from her cottage to his. As soon as he reached the door, Max bolted out past them followed by Cal.

Demetrius just chuckled and stepped inside to light more lamps and study the room.

There was no damage. Neither Max nor Cal had relieved themselves nor was anything broken, spilled or destroyed. They two were truly learning to be less destructive.

“How long will they be?” Lavinia asked.

“It could be a few moments or longer than an hour. Depending on what they discover.”

“Shall we simply wait?” Lavinia pulled her cloak close to her body. It was cold within the cottage since he had not been here in some time and the fire had died down.

“Come with me. I shall get you warm.”

“What of Max and Cal?”

He had never left them unattended, but he also did not expect them to run off. “I will leave the door open for them.”

“Then anyone can come in.”

“How many people have you seen walking in the area since you arrived?” he asked with humor.

Lavinia frowned. “Nobody.”

“We are all alone.”

“If you are certain?”

Was she having a change of heart? Or did she not realize his intent? “Have you changed your mind, Lavinia?”

“About what?”

He leaned and pressed his lips against hers. When they parted, he delved and he pulled her against his body as her hands came up to grasp his shoulders. Only then did he pull away.

“About us.”

She stared into his eyes. “No.”

“Then come along. I know of a much warmer room.”