Marrying Winterborne (The Ravenels #2) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,48
kill him for what he did to Helen.” Devon sighed shortly. “I knew we shouldn’t have left the girls alone, even for a day. To think I was worried about the twins, when Helen was the one who went out seeking a scandal.”
“She wasn’t seeking scandal,” Kathleen countered reasonably. “She went to . . . well, to reclaim her fiancé. And one must view the situation in balance; it’s not fair to blame him entirely.”
His brows lifted. “Why are you taking Winterborne’s side, when you’ve been against the match from the beginning?”
“Because of Helen,” she admitted. “I knew she would do anything for the good of the family, even marry a man she didn’t love. I also knew that Mr. Winterborne intimidated her. But that’s changed. I believe she truly wants him now. She’s no longer afraid of him. The way she stood her ground with him this evening altered my opinion of the match entirely. If this is what she wants, I will support her.”
“I can’t overlook Winterborne’s actions,” Devon grumbled. “Out of regard for me, if for no other reason, he shouldn’t have taken the innocence of a young woman under my protection. It’s a matter of respect.”
Kathleen hoisted herself more fully over him, staring down into his blue eyes. “This,” she mocked gently, “from a man who seduced me in nearly every room, stairwell and hay-nook of Eversby Priory. Where was your regard for innocence then?”
His frown disappeared. “That was different.”
“Why, may I ask?”
Devon flipped her over, reversing their positions neatly and surprising a giggle from her. “Because,” he said huskily, “I wanted you so much . . .”
She writhed and laughed as he unfastened her nightgown.
“. . . and as lord of the manor,” he continued, proceeding to strip her naked, “I thought it was time to exercise my droit de seigneur.”
“As if I were some medieval peasant girl?” she asked, shoving him onto his back and climbing over him.
Grabbing his marauding hands, she tried to pin him down with her entire weight.
A deep laugh escaped him. “Love, that won’t work. You’re no heavier than a butterfly.” Clearly enjoying their play, he lay unresisting as she gripped his thick wrists more tightly. “A determined butterfly,” he conceded. As he stared up at her, his smile faded, and his eyes darkened to intense blue. “I was a selfish bastard,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have seduced you.”
“I was willing,” Kathleen pointed out, inwardly surprised by his remorse. He was changing, she thought, rapidly gaining maturity as he shouldered the responsibilities that had been forced on him so unexpectedly.
“I would do it differently now. Forgive me.” He paused, frowning in self-reproach. “I wasn’t raised to be honorable. It’s damned difficult to learn.”
Kathleen slid her hands over his until their fingers interlaced. “There’s nothing to forgive, or regret.”
Devon shook his head, not allowing her to absolve him. “Tell me how to atone.”
She bent to brush her lips against his. “Love me,” she whispered.
With great care, Devon rolled until she was caught beneath him. “Always,” he said huskily, and possessed her mouth while his hands slid over her body. He made love to her slowly, with exquisite skill. Long after he’d made her ready for him, he finally nudged her thighs apart and eased inside. She wriggled in frustration as he refused to press deeper, no matter how she tried to urge him.
“Devon . . .” Her breath came in little flurries. “I need more.”
“More of what?” His mouth drifted to the base of her throat.
She scowled and squirmed. “Oh I hate it when you tease me!”
He smiled. “Almost as much as you love it.” Relenting, he slid an inch forward.
“Deeper,” she gasped. “Please, Devon—”
“Like this?” he asked gently.
Kathleen arched beneath him, her lips parted in a silent cry as he took her with fierce, tender urgency, loving her body and soul.
“FERNSBY,” RHYS CALLED out, frowning as he sorted through the sheaf of papers on his desk with a frown.
The private secretary appeared promptly at the threshold of his open door. “Yes, Mr. Winterborne?”
“Come in.” He straightened the paper into a neat stack, replaced it in a cardboard file envelope, and tied the attached string around it. “I’ve just looked through the documents sent by Mr. Severin’s office.” He handed her the envelope.
“The ones pertaining to the block of residential buildings near King’s Cross?”
“Aye. Deeds, mortgages, contractor’s agreements, and so forth.” He gave her a dark glance. “But there’s not one piece of paper in that entire file that bears