Now, however, he would do his best to wreak havoc on Arabella’s senses. He’d been successful in getting past some of her defenses, but gaining her full capitulation would be difficult. Arabella was still vulnerable to hurt, despite her declarations to the contrary.

A wave of tenderness hit Marcus as he studied her. She had been betrayed by her idiot betrothed, who was fool enough to value his consequence more than her. And after her parents’ warlike marriage, she wasn’t willing to risk suffering any sort of callous union of convenience.

Marcus knew their own marriage would be very different-far from cold-blooded. But he would have to change Arabella’s perspective by escalating the intimacy of their relationship.

He wanted to show her pleasure she’d never even dreamed of, for her own sake as well as the sake of his courtship and his own gratification. She truly had no idea what she was missing by disavowing men. Marcus was convinced that once she understood how pleasurable their marriage bed would be, she would be much more inclined to accept his proposal.

He also knew he would be playing with fire, considering the effort it took to control his own primal urges when he merely touched her. But an urgency was growing in him to win her and put an end to this state of uncertainty.

Resolving to make his next move, Marcus sat up and wiped his hands on a cloth napkin, then took her glass from her and set it aside.

At his unexpected action, Arabella suddenly grew tense. “Marcus, I was not finished eating.”

“You can finish later. For now, it’s time we proceeded to the next step in our courtship.”

“What do you mean?” she asked warily.

“I intend to teach you about lovemaking.”

She felt her heart start to pound. “We agreed you wouldn’t go beyond the limits of gentlemanly conduct.”

“But you want me to.”

Arabella opened her mouth to deny it but couldn’t.

When she fell mute, Marcus scrutinized her face. “Just because you refuse to marry me, doesn’t mean you don’t want to experience passion.”

His assertion had a significant truth to it, Arabella acknowledged. She couldn’t help wondering about passion. But she shook her head. “I won’t do anything so shameless, Marcus. I mean to remain chaste outside the marriage bed.”

“I can show you about passion without taking your virginity.”

“I know.” When his eyebrow shot up, she colored a little in embarrassment. “I am not entirely ignorant about lovemaking. A friend of mine told me about the procedure in detail.”

Wry amusement curved his mouth. “What sort of friend would foster a proper young lady’s carnal education?”

“A close childhood friend,” Arabella responded, her chin lifting. “Fanny Irwin. I should think you would know her, since she is currently one of the most celebrated Cyprians in London.”

“We have a passing acquaintance,” Marcus replied mildly, “although I have never patronized her.”

Somehow that casual revelation comforted Arabella. “Fanny is my age, but she is far more experienced than I. She was our neighbor in Hampshire before she left home to make a new life for herself in London’s demimonde. We remained fast friends, even though her family disowned her for her wickedness.” Arabella smiled a little defiantly. “I continued to acknowledge her during my comeout in London, before our own scandal, and afterward, Fanny was one of the few people who stuck by me and my sisters. She even visited us here on occasion after we came to live with our step-uncle. Fanny told me a good deal about her new life.”

“And she satisfied your curiosity about lovemaking?”

“Well, I admit I was curious. And when I became betrothed, I asked her what I should expect on my wedding night. So I know in theory what is supposed to happen.”

“But knowing in theory is not the same as experiencing for yourself,” Marcus said. “Come, admit it. You want me to show you what our wedding night will be like.”

At his confident tone, Arabella narrowed her gaze on him. “We will not be having a wedding night. And you cannot kiss me witless to convince me otherwise.”

When his own eyes narrowed speculatively on her mouth, Arabella realized her mistake. “That was not a challenge,” she hurriedly said.

“It was a challenge. My male pride is at stake.”

“Marcus…” she exclaimed as he reached for her.

The smile he gave her was utterly beautiful and utterly maddening. “Let me demonstrate, darling.”

Before she could scurry out of harm’s way, he pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. Arabella opened her mouth to protest, but he took possession of it with searing deliberation. Clasping her nape in a firm hold, he gave her a lingering, blatantly sexual kiss that heated her blood and set her pulse racing.

She was breathless when Marcus finally broke off to gaze down at her. “You heard your patroness last night, Arabella. Loneliness is a bleak bedfellow.”

She licked her tingling lips. “I don’t need a husband to ward off loneliness. I have my sisters and my school.”

“But those are not nearly as pleasurable. You don’t want to remain a spinster all your life.”

“I do so.”

“No, you don’t. You have too much fire and passion in your veins.”

He bent his head again, this time brushing her lips with a much more tender kiss. “Don’t you want to know what it is like to be fully a woman? What it is like to desire a man? To feel passion and pleasure and physical fulfillment?”

Arabella felt herself wavering, yet her long-held scruples stopped her from yielding. “I cannot make love to you, Marcus! It would be too scandalous.”

“If you never intend to marry, what difference does it make if you keep your virginity?”

It was a rational argument, Arabella knew. And the truth was, she did want to know about passion. To know what she was missing in life. To experience the kind of intense pleasure Fanny had claimed was possible between lovers.

Arabella had no doubt that Marcus could show her. And she would likely never have another chance. At least not where she could be assured of keeping any sinful transgressions secret. As her guardian, Marcus was perhaps even more concerned for her reputation than she was, so he would do his best to remain discreet.

While she debated, however, he took the choice from her. Arabella felt herself being lowered to the blanket. Then he followed her down, stretching out beside her, his body half covering hers.

“I mean to use my hands and my mouth together this time,” Marcus murmured against her lips. “The power of touch and taste combined.”

She pressed her own hands against his chest, struggling for willpower, but he caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged with soft nips. When Arabella gave a little whimper, his tongue soothed the sensitive flesh before dipping slowly, insistently, inside her mouth.

Finding him impossible to resist, she gave a tiny, shuddering sigh of defeat and returned his kiss helplessly.

His mouth was magical…and so was his touch, Arabella thought long moments later. While his kisses enchanted, his hand moved on her throat, then lower, his long fingers stroking her skin as he explored the contours of her breasts beneath the round neckline of her gown.

Shortly Arabella gave a start upon realizing that Marcus had lowered her bodice and chemise to expose her nipples, but the teasing caress of his fingers on her skin soothed her, his palm molding the ripe swells as his hot lips worked their spell. Arabella found herself arching against his touch, seeking more of the delicious pleasure he was arousing in her.

It was some time before he paused in his seduction and raised his head to contemplate her. His gaze was frankly, sharply male as it fixed on her bare breasts, surveying the high mounds crested with rosy nipples.

Arabella felt herself flushing. She was lying there wantonly, accepting his brazen scrutiny without protest. Yet when she made to cover her breasts with her hands, he caught her wrists and held them away.

“No, let me look.”

It was arousing in itself, Arabella realized, to have Marcus studying her body. She never would have believed a simple look could be so titillating. The heat of his gaze, combined with the warm sunlight on her skin, made her restless and feverish.

And then his fingers joined his gaze, his knuckles brushing over her tautly straining nipples, dredging a soft gasp from her.

His eyes sparking at her helpless response, he plucked at the tight buds, pinching lightly and then soothing with his thumbs. Arabella nearly moaned at the sweet torment. “Marcus…you make me feel so…”

“So what?”

“Hot…like all my senses are inflamed.”

His eyes darkened further. “I know.”

He desired her, she knew. The thought gave her a powerfully feminine feeling to combat the vulnerability she felt lying here at his mercy. Determinedly, she returned his gaze, vowing she wouldn’t run this time.

His eyes held hers, hot and blue, as he reached for the hem of her gown and drew it up above her knees. Then, very gently, he ran his hand up her stockinged calf to the bare skin of her thigh.

Arabella tensed until Marcus bent his lips to her again. “Just relax, love, and let me caress you,” he murmured against her throat as he pushed her skirts higher.

What he asked was impossible, for when he eased her thighs open with his knee, the pressure on the sensitive core of her sent a shock of fire rippling through her.

He touched her frantic pulse with a stroke of his tongue while his hand dipped between her legs to find the wetness there. When she whimpered at his scandalous touch, Marcus kissed her again, a slow, lazy, possessive kiss that had her shivering. At the same time he used his fingers to stroke her, rimming the sleek cleft of her femininity, teasing the tiny bud hidden there.