A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement) Read online

  "Because I was a completely self-absorbed jackass. I was so obsessed with my own pride that it never even occurred to me what misery you might experience from another man—one who might ruin you with gambling or humiliate you with his philandering. Once that epiphany came upon me, I swore that I would do whatever I must to make you mine."

  "If that is so, how could you offer marriage to me on behalf of another? You are making no sense!"

  "I am making perfect sense," he replied evenly. "You know that I am in Rochford's employ and thus must do his bidding. I made the offer only because honor obligated me to do so. I believed you would refuse, and that refusal would allow me to pay suit for him to another. Having fulfilled my obligation to him, I would then be free to pay my own suit to you." He shook his head ruefully. "It was a calculated risk that tragically backfired on me."

  "What would you have done had I accepted?" she asked.

  "I never thought that you would, but had you accepted, I could never have given you up to him. If that means swallowing my damnable pride, so be it. Listen to me please, Mariah. I love you and only you. My only desire, if you would have me, would be for us to make a real life together."

  Fear and doubt refused to let her yield to him. "You have already betrayed my trust once, Nicolas. How can you expect me to believe you would be different from any other man?"

  "All I have to offer you is what stands before you—my body, my heart, and my soul. They are yours, my love. I lay them at your feet. And I swear under all that is holy that I will never hurt you again. I will uphold my vows to love and cherish and protect you to my dying breath."

  ***

  Having pled his case, Nick waited several agonizingly silent seconds as hope and hesitation warred in her sea-colored eyes. He forced his gaze from hers to focus on her lips instead, as if by sheer force of will he could draw the answer from her. He longed to kiss her lips, to reacquaint himself with their softness, shape, and texture. Now that they were alone, he was almost desperate to take her into his arms.

  "Sweet words are easily spoken," she replied bitterly. "How can I know you really mean what you say?"

  "You asked me once in a moonlit garden how you would ever know for certain that a man really cared for you. The answer hasn't changed, Mariah. This is how."

  He claimed her mouth slowly and thoroughly, as if he was finally taking possession of what was always his to begin with. He'd already poured out his heart with his words, yet she remained unconvinced. Now his body must speak for his soul.

  He sensed the precise moment she yielded her will; the drop of her shoulders and the soft sigh that escaped her mouth signaled surrender. The sound alone made him want to drown himself in her. He could not let this night end without showing her the depths of his love.

  She kissed him back with equal fervor, slanting her head, nibbling at his mouth, drawing his lower lip between her teeth and sucking on it before offering a soft stroke of her tongue. He took control, cupping her nape and deepening the kiss. Their tongues met and tangled, each new stroke firing the passion they'd reawakened the very moment their mouths had joined. As their tongues danced, desperate desire took possession.

  Nick devoured her mouth with lips, teeth, and tongue, she eagerly reciprocated his passion. He cupped a breast, sliding his thumb inside her bodice to tease her nipple as he kissed down her neck to the tops of her milky-white mounds. He was growing desperate to bury his face between them, but her bodice and stays presented a barrier.

  She arched into him with a needy sound.

  He was painfully aroused and ached to touch and taste and worship her inch by sweet, delectable inch. "I want to touch you, Mariah," he murmured hotly against her lips. "I want to kiss and touch and taste you. Please, will you let me?"

  He knew even as he glanced toward the Turkish divan that where his thoughts led, his body would soon follow. He'd already sacrificed his pride for love. Now he added his honor to the altar of Venus. Before she could answer, he kissed her again, deeply, intensely, and began backing her toward the divan.

  "Yes," she whispered and reached to loosen her laces.

  He sat, pulling her down beside him. His hands joined her tugging and fumbling, loosening her bodice and stays. He kissed her again as he lay her back on the cushions, licking and nipping the length of her neck before lowering his head to suckle her luscious breasts.

  She whimpered, a yearning sound that heated his blood and blurred his mind. He knew she didn't even know what she needed, but he did. Any remaining will to fight his conscience succumbed to his lust.

  He continued distracting her with his mouth as he snaked a hand under her skirts, stealing up the length of her silky-smooth legs. Her eyes were closed, but her rosy lips were softly parted as if awaiting another kiss. Her breasts rose and fell in an erratic rhythm with her breathing.

  He groaned with the ache to be inside her, engulfed in that sweet, wet, feminine heat. He knew she was more than ready for him. Her arousal was evident in every sound of pleasure that passed through her lips, in the way her body responded to his touch and—God help him—the musky scent of her sex. The first whiff of her natural essence nearly undid him. He was desperate to feel her wet heat, to touch her, taste her. He couldn't bear it any longer.

  ***

  Nick stroked down her outer thigh and then back up again, searing a blazing path over the sensitive flesh on her inner thigh. While his hands moved steadily upward, his mouth made its own stealthy descent. He grazed his fingers through her mass of hair. She trembled as a gush of warmth hit her core. He gently parted her quivering thighs. She sounded a protest and clamped her legs together, but the action trapped his hand, increasing both the pressure and the excruciating ache inside her.

  "Please, my love," he urged.

  "It frightens me, Nick. This thing between us, the way you make me feel."

  "I only wish to learn what pleases you. There's nothing to fear."

  Although she was still a virgin, her prior experience with him had already proven how dangerous such intimate touching could be. Their mutual moans and panting breaths filled the air as he slid his fingers into the slickened folds of her sex, his clever fingers working, stroking, swirling, creating warm, wickedly wanton waves of pleasure deep inside her. He located the sensitive bud of her clitoris, caressing and stroking in deliberate circles while his other hand gently probed the opening to her body, the place where he would enter her. Her blood roared in her ears as the throbbing tension pulsed frenetically, mounting and coiling up inside her. It was too much! The emptiness inside had become unbearable, making her writhe with need.

  "Nick. Please . . ."

  Before she understood what was happening, her entire body shuddered and racked with convulsive waves that pulled her into a black void of exquisite sensation. When the rapturous aftershocks had subsided, she found him looking intently down upon her. His pupils were dilated, and his breathing was ragged.

  "What did you do to me?" she asked, breathless and dazed.

  "I gave you a small taste of what can be when a man and woman join together."

  "It was wondrous. But we didn't . . . I mean, you didn't . . ."

  "No, I didn't," he said, his voice suddenly low and hoarse.

  Once more, she found her logic and emotions at odds. "Was it really only touching that you desired, or was it your intent to ruin me?"

  "If you are asking if this was a premeditated seduction, the answer is no, but I would be lying if I told you I didn't want you. My very being burns for you. Nevertheless, I won't force your hand, Mariah. I won't exploit your vulnerability."

  "I know I shouldn't want this . . . but . . ."

  "But?" Something different flared in his eyes.

  "But I do. I want you, Nick. I want to feel everything that can be between us."

  The words had barely passed her lips before he captured her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss that eradicated any further thought beyond his body and hers. Their hands were everywhere. Kissing and
panting, they pulled at each other's clothes until only the thin linen of her shift and his shirt and breeches remained. As he drew back to strip them off, her gaze dropped to the tented space between his legs and then flickered back up to his face.

  "Are you afraid?" he asked.

  "A little. But also curious. Could I please see it?"

  His mouth gave a wicked little twitch. "I'll only show you mine if you show me yours."

  She licked her lips. "I suppose it's inevitable."

  "Shall I go first?" he asked.

  "If you please."

  She watched intently as he unbuttoned his placket and removed his breeches. His lower legs were well-formed, muscular, and covered in dark hair all the way up to . . . Her earlier curiosity about his body was finally satisfied. He did indeed have a nest of dark hair at the base of his sex, but she was far more fascinated by the rigid member springing proudly upward from that nest. She suddenly recalled with a surge of panic what he intended to do with it. "It's . . . rather large, isn't it?"

  It gently bounced and swayed as he stepped toward her. "I would like to think so," he replied with a smirk, "but it's probably quite average. Please, Mariah." He reached out for her hand. "I want you to touch me. Like I touched you."

  Taking her hand in his, he wrapped her fingers around his hot flesh and then moved her hand slowly up and down his phallus. The skin was as soft as silk but felt like iron beneath—hot and pulsing iron. He squeezed her hand tighter and shut his eyes on a grimace. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

  "No. It's pleasure."

  "But you want more . . . pleasure."

  "Yes," he hissed. "I want desperately to be inside you."

  She licked her lips and met his gaze. "Then come inside me."

  He released her hand slowly. "Are you very certain?"

  "Yes. I am very certain." Her gaze locked with his, she reached for the hem of her shift. The moment she pulled it over her head, she felt the weight of his body sinking onto the divan.

  He began with gentle caresses that sent tiny shivers over her skin. His mouth came into play, blazing a moist, hot trail over her body, lingering at her breasts, gently circling her nipples, teasing them with darting flicks of his tongue.

  She arched into him with a moan, and he took her into his mouth, lightly clamping and tugging the taut peaks with his teeth, sending a rush of sensation to her core. She twined her fingers in his hair as he suckled as he had done before. With the same light caress of hands and mouth, he left her breasts to smooth over her belly, blazing a scorching path with his mouth, inciting soft, blissful sounds from her as he worked his way down her body. Once more, she felt the stroke of his hands on her thighs, moving to the sensitive inside, and then easing them apart.

  She squeezed her eyes shut in preparation for the invasion, only to be shocked by a hot, wet swipe of his tongue. "Wh-what are you doing?" she squeaked.

  "I'm going to make love to you with my mouth before I enter you."

  He lowered once more to her sex, slowly and deliberately exploring her slick contours in a way that blinded her with pleasure. She whimpered for him to stop and at the same time clutched a hand to his head, squirming against him. He found her hidden nub and laved it with long licks, short flicks, and sinful swirls that made her buck and sob. Flushed and panting, she begged for an end to the exquisite torture. Just when she thought she would come apart again, he pulled away. Pressing one thigh between her legs, he moved back up her body to claim her mouth again in a salty, musky kiss, groaning into her mouth as he slid his sex into her wetness.

  He reached down between them to guide the head of his phallus, creating new and breathtaking sensations as he slid it in and out of her slick folds. Instinctively, she moved her hips, increasing the friction until they were both panting.

  She stiffened the moment he positioned the head at her entrance. He sealed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cry at the searing sensation as he plunged into her, breaching the maidenhead that had barred the entrance to her womb. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for more pain, but he remained perfectly still. Was this all there was to it? Was it done? Somehow she could not believe it was so.

  She opened her eyes to find his closed, his face drawn taught as if in intense pain. His body trembled, and his chest heaved. "Did it hurt?" she whispered.

  He opened his eyes with a look of surprise. "God, no! I am nearly unmanned. Just give me a moment," he begged.

  It was only then she realized his face was strained with concentration. He was inside her, buried to the hilt. Yet the burning sensation had eased, supplanted by a strange fullness that suffused her entire being. They were joined in as intimate a fashion as man and woman could be, and it was breathtaking.

  ***

  Nick was barely holding himself in check. Buried in her hot, tight sheath was pure, agonizing rapture. He braced himself on his elbows, holding himself at a slight distance form her for fear that even an inch more exposure to her sweet, welcoming flesh would put him over the edge. That brief moment of initial penetration had nearly been the end of him. He felt as if all the blood had drained from his body to engorge his pulsing staff, and his bollocks were tight enough to burst. His pulse pounded in his ears as he fought to keep his release at bay. Another moment passed before he felt he had himself sufficiently in check.

  "Are you all right, Mariah?" he asked. "Am I hurting you?"

  "No," she whispered. "It hurt at first, but not so much now. I like this, Nick, feeling you inside me."

  "I swear you will like it a whole lot more the next time," he said. "There will be less pain and eventually only pleasure."

  He kissed her again, trying to focus on the kiss rather than the mind-blurring friction of his cock moving inside her hot, tight passage. Flexing his hips, he withdrew slightly and then thrust back in again. He continued kissing her deeply, probing with his tongue in synchrony with the rhythmic repetition of his hips. White-hot jolts of sensation fired every nerve.

  She moaned into his mouth and, without coaxing, wrapped her legs about his flanks, urging him deeper into her wetness. She began to meet his thrusts, undulating beneath him as he drove into her harder and deeper. His urgency increased as the air thickened with the scent of sex and the sultry sounds of pleasure. His climax hit him with a blinding fury, forcing hot spurts of his seed and a ferocious cry from his lungs. Gazing into her beautiful eyes in the moment of his release, he knew he was indeed a man undone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “None but the brave deserves the fair.”- John Dryden

  LYING CURLED UP against Nick's big, warm body, listening to the soft slap of waves against the barge and the slow and steady beat of her lover's heart, Mariah felt as if she'd awakened from a dream. How could the world have suddenly become so different? Or maybe she had. How was it possible that the act of love had wrought such a profound change? It was done. Or better said, she was ruined. Utterly and completely ruined, but try as she might, she couldn't summon even an ounce of regret. The experience had been beyond her wildest imaginings, but where did they go from here?

  "Nick?" she prompted softly, tracing lazy circles on his bare chest.

  He cracked one eye open. "What is it, love?"

  "Do you intend to make an honest woman of me?"

  His sensuous lips curved in a lazy smile. "I thought I declared myself to you in the most uncertain terms. If I have failed to communicate the depths of my devotion, perhaps I should try again?"

  "Please don't tease me."

  "I am quite serious, my love. Were we not presently in a barge moored in the middle of the Thames, I would indeed show you again, and again." He cupped the back of her head and pulled in for a long and tender kiss. "Will you have me, Mariah? Will you take me as your husband until death do us part?"

  "Yes, Nick," she murmured. "I never wanted anyone but you."

  "Nor I you," he replied softly, stroking an index finger over her lips.

  An explosion suddenly jolted them apart.
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  "What was that?" Mariah gasped.

  "I can only presume the illuminations have begun."

  A second boom followed, echoed by a series of crackles.

  "Is it so very late?" Her heart raced. "What can Lydia and Marcus be thinking? And Lady Russell? They will surely wonder what we have been doing."

  Nick chuckled. "Are you still so innocent, my love? I assure you there will be no doubt of our activities in any of their minds."

  Mariah flushed. "Then how can I possibly show my face?"

  "We need only tell them we are to marry, and no one will care. Indeed, I have half a mind to hire a coach this moment and abscond with you to Mayfair."

  "Why would you wish to go to Mayfair?"

  "There is a small chapel next to St. George's that will perform quiet weddings."

  "Without a license?"

  "Yes. They only require two witnesses. Although the practice is frowned upon, such marriages are nevertheless upheld under the law."

  "But I don't wish to be secretive. Getting married hastily in the middle of the night would suggest shame. I don't want any such intimations hanging over us. I would prefer to wed in full light of day with friends and family present."

  "I merely gave you an alternative to joining the party, my love. We will do as you wish." He rose from the divan and snatched up their scattered garments, adding with a grin, "It appears I must now test my skills as a lady's maid."

  ***

  A crowd of hundreds was gathered on the riverbank gazing up at the sky with gasps and cheers. Nick held Mariah close to his side with a hand pressed discreetly at her back as they marveled at the grand finale, a stunning spectacle of sound and colorful explosions that illuminated the heavens.

  "Mariah!" Lydia called out to her as the last sparkles sputtered and died. Squeezing her considerable girth through the crowd, she waddled across the lawn. "I was growing alarmed." She darted Nick a censorious look. "I was ready to send Marcus after you."