Page 38 of The Rake Desires the Diamond

He expected her to pull away and flee the room. Instead, she allowed him to guide her to the settee, where they sat side-by-side. He ached to hold those graceful, gloveless hands clasped together and resting on her lap.

“Springy is the best sort of chap. He does not want to deceive you,” he said.

She peered at her hands before meeting Evan’s gaze. “And yet he did. You all did. Why? And why you, Evan? I thought mayhap we were becoming friends.”

With trust hanging in the balance, only the truth would suffice. “I made Springy’s mask, and then he won the contest. You seemed so besotted; no one wanted to change your good opinion of him. Besides, you dislike me so much that your brother thought my involvement would upset you and ruin any chance of a life you might have with an earl.”

She sniffled. “Why would I feel unfavorably toward Alexander because you made his mask?” She brought a hand to herforehead and moaned. “Am I that opinionated and arrogant? That mean-spirited and vengeful? Is that how you all see me?”

Unable to control his impulses a second longer, Evan rested a hand atop hers. “Your brother had your best interest at heart. Springy is uncomfortable with this situation and insists you see his actual painting.” Time for the most important part. “I played along because I thought if you courted Springy, you would be safe from me.”

She huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh. “You are the most dangerous man of my acquaintance, Evan Eaton.” The statement might have been an insult, but a slight smile tugged at her lips. However, a moment later, her countenance contained hellfire. “Just ask the maid I found sitting on your bed moments ago.”

But he had just left the maid in Anna’s care. “Why was Caroline in my chamber?” he asked.

Katrina rolled her eyes. “Fanny was in your bed crying from heartbreak. Who is Caroline?”

Fanny, the red-headed disaster he’d already turned away, was on his bed again? And when he wasn’t in his room? The notion was slightly disturbing. Perhaps a tiny bit flattering. But mostly disturbing.

“Fanny seems to favor me. Believe me, I have done nothing to encourage her infatuation. And Caroline was Taylor’s maid. I went to see Greyson last night to tell him to leave you alone and discovered he was behaving most unbecomingly. I stole her away and brought her to Anna for protection.”

Katrina looked at him with something akin to affection in her eyes—not lust, not hatred, and not vulnerability—but a softness that spoke of deep respect.

“It was so brave of you to stand up to Greyson and protect awoman from his advances.”

But he had yet to succeed with his mission. Greyson still planned to torment Katrina. He pushed a strand of hair from her cheek, the tip of his finger lingering on her soft skin.

“Do not make me out to be a savior. I am far from heroic.”

“The truth is”—her enticing bosom expanded with her inhale—“I find I cannot think about anything or anyone but you. However, I am courting another man. Although he lied to me, I do not wish to be unfaithful. I have already behaved so horribly. I am atrocious.”

“Nay. Not atrocious. Never atrocious.” Evan needed to leave immediately. He was much too weary to be held accountable for his actions. And he might do something unthinkable. For fuck’s sake, he wanted to grab her and kiss her until she was his.

“Even before discovering that painting”—her nose wrinkled in disgust—“I decided to break off my courtship with Alexander. I feel that under the circumstances, I must. I believe Alexander will forgive me. Perhaps he might even be relieved. I do not think we suit.”

She was correct. Wellspring would probably forgive the both of them, and indeed, he would be relieved. Harrington, not so much.

“If I end my courtship and face our indiscretion with my head held high, Greyson loses his power to blackmail me. However…” She bit her lip. “If my brothers hear of what we did, things will end badly. Especially for you.”

What an understatement. Astleyshire would cut off his bollocks. He’d never allow Evan near Katrina again. And not just because the third son of an earl was not good enough for the daughter of a duke. Even Georgiana would be unable to protect Evan from her husband’s wrath if he learned of this. And Harrington? Double shite! Wellspring would forgive himeons before Harrington would. If Evan lost his best mate, who in the hell would put up with his nonsense?

Katrina leaned closer, her voice a sensual rasp that seemed to wrap around his cock and squeeze. “I find myself hating you one second and drawn to you the next. Whatever this all means, I cannot court another man.”

How in the hell could he be growing hard after only two hours of sleep? Damn, his prick to hell! But nothing else mattered—not his friends or a vexed-as-hell brother-in-law—because Katrina Harrington tilted her head and moved closer to him as her whispered words blew across his lips. “Evan, whatsoever should we do?”

Chapter seventeen

July 1st, 1818

Evan ran the tip of his tongue over his lip, leaving behind a glistening sheen that bespoke of sweet decadence. “I know what I would like to do,” he said in a husky baritone that promised carnal delights.

The scent of citrus and mint wrapped Kat in a sensual cloud, replacing all rational thought with unfathomable longing. Hopefully, he meant to kiss her right this minute, for if he did not, she would wither away to nothingness. To the devil with everything but this man who sat beside her. This enigma, who she’d thought was a scoundrel, protected women and sketched and painted like a master. He turned her world inside out, making her cast aside her austere nature and embrace life.

His thumb traced tiny circles on the back of her hand. It seemed a harmless enough gesture. He was simply comforting her. So why did she feel those circles deep inside her, as if he was touching herquim? Stars, Beth had taught her naughty words.

“Evan,” she whispered, brushing her hand over his forearm, her action entirely to ensure this was not one of her fantasies. Thank the heavens, he was indeed there with her, all flesh and blood and lean, sinewy male perfection.

“Please,” she begged.