But did he dare take the risk he wasn’t being played for a fool? He was curious how far she’d go. A kiss? Far more? A proper ruin? That was what she claimed to want from him.

  He’d only find out the truth if he met with her.

  Roman moved from his spot, circling the room so he would pass close to George Sweet before he decided. The man laughed like a braying ass, his wife—Roman’s sweet Melody, by his side forever now instead of Roman’s—was smiling up at her husband as if she’d only ever loved him.

  Roman gritted his teeth and continued out of the ballroom, turning toward the staircase and then passing under. He saw no guest or servant who might remember he’d walked this way. But there was also no sign of Amity either, which disappointed him thoroughly.

  He paused behind the stairs, believing he’d been led a merry dance. “Damn the whole lot of them.”

  A creak reached his ears then a woman’s hand shot out of the shadows of a hidden door, gripped his arm, and hauled him into a tiny chamber under the very staircase. He had visited this house many times and never noticed its existence.

  Chapter 2

  Amity peered up at the man bent over her. “What kept you?”

  There was a long pause. “I’m here, my sweet,” Crawford drawled finally, relieving her no end that she’d grabbed the right man in her hurry to drag him inside. She had feared Roman Crawford would let her down. He’d not really seemed keen to help her with her plan to ruin herself, and she didn’t blame him for mistrusting her motives, given what her brother had done to him in the past.

  Amity wished she might see her would-be lover but would make do. She was about to be ruined. “Do not ever make more jests with my name,” she hissed.

  He chuckled softly, his breath stirring the tendrils of her hair about her ear. “I cannot help myself. Has there ever been a more poorly chosen name for such a devious a woman?”

  Amity shivered. “Devious in thought only until tonight, unlike my cousins, who practice the art of debauchery in your company on every possible occasion,” she said bitterly, thinking of the lengths she’d been driven to by her older brother’s ambitions and her families’ machinations. She’d learned to hate her name and the association of purity that was attached to her skin. She had been made into the reluctant paragon of the family, her virtue considered a priceless commodity to be traded for wealth and connections by her older brother and her uncle the duke.

  Well, no longer would she be their pawn. Tonight, she’d be ruined well and truly with Roman Crawford’s help.

  “Your cousin, and his brothers, are men more to my taste,” he promised. “The rest can go to hell.”

  “I agree, and my brother first of all,” she murmured, feeling fury build inside her again as it had done for weeks now. Her brother thought he’d the right to trade her like cattle by marrying her off to the highest bidder. Well, she’d not let that happen. She’d rather engineer her own ruin than accept a husband her family chose.

  She did not approve of marrying a pork-bellied buffoon who already wouldn’t let her speak her mind.

  She took a steadying breath to release her temper. Roman Crawford loomed over her in the dark, making her feel small and decidedly breathless, she found. His normally sleepy honey-brown eyes were hidden in the dark, but she knew his fondness for mischief with other ladies and for causing chaos when it came to her brother’s interests. She was grateful he jumped at the chance to accommodate her suggestion to meet in private.

  His hands settled lightly about her upper arms. “Definitely your brother first. Then, after tonight, let’s hope he suffers apoplexy from the shock of how he’ll find you and dies.”

  “As long as he doesn’t find me with you, I’ll be satisfied that he lives forever disappointed in me. But I must warn you, George wouldn’t hesitate to call you out and shoot you dead tomorrow morning. I insist you disappear as soon as we’re done.”

  Roman’s fingers, now bare of gloves, traced a pattern up and down her arm. “I admit, I’m not keen to die by his sword or pistol at dawn…or do you think me unequal to such a challenge?”

  “Not at all. I should only rather you did not have to kill him and flee the country after. That would be grossly unfair after all you’ve suffered at his hands. He would certainly try to kill you, I’m sure, and not just because of me. You’re causing him no end of trouble.”

  “Because of Melody.”

  “I am truly sorry about her,” she whispered, laying her hands on his chest. “And I promise you won’t be sorry about me.”

  It was no secret Crawford had set his cap for her now sister-in-law two years ago. Courting her with sweet poetry and constant attention. Amity had heard some. George had read aloud Roman’s beautiful love letters one night to everyone in the household to hear. But Crawford had not been the only man circling Melody, and the vain, foolish woman had played right into George’s hands and ended up married to him instead of someone better.

  Just because George wanted it that way, wanted her dowry, not because of a deeper bond of affection for the woman. The pair were not happily married. In public, they of course pretended to be happy with the match, but in private, at home, the chill and fury between them was unbearable.

  Ever since that dreadful marriage, Crawford had subtly interfered in just about every aspect of her brother’s life. He’d lured away their chef, and her brother’s valet, too. Purchased livestock intended for their country estate but not already paid for. He’d been quite inventive really, exacting any number of small revenges. Amity had found her brother’s frustration of late quite satisfying to watch. But she’d known deep down that Crawford wasn’t done with her brother. That helped with her situation.

  “How fortunate a man I am to have such a beauty eager for me to ruin her.”

  She placed her hands on his chest again, feeling the heat of him seep through to warm her gloved fingers. “Very eager to get it done, and quickly.”

  “A proper seduction should not be rushed, but given the danger of marriage, a rush is what you’ll get.” He bent close and nuzzled her cheek with his lips. “Are you ready?”

  “Indeed. I know my brother won’t allow me out of his sight for long.”

  “Hopefully he’ll not come before you do.” His fingers suddenly swept across the top of her breasts, and she jumped at the contact. “I’ve always believed a woman should enjoy her deflowering.”

  “I suppose that depends on your skill,” she murmured.

  “I love a challenge.”

  Crawford was reputed to be very experienced with women interested in short-term affairs. That was why she’d chosen him out of all others she could have picked. She believed he wouldn’t offer marriage to claim her dowry, although if he did, that would really infuriate her brother.

  Crawford suddenly tilted her chin up and pressed a kiss to her lips.

  Unused to such things, Amity’s first thought was to push him back. But her resistance lasted only a moment as she remembered why she was alone with Crawford in the first place. She had a job to see done.

  She received his next kisses with more enthusiasm. His hands slid restlessly all over her body, attempting to excite her no doubt, but she wasn’t sure what to do with her own fingers. Crawford must have sensed her confusion, because he slid his hands down her arms, caught her wrists, and slowly raised them to drape over his shoulders, nudging them higher until she embraced him, all the while kissing her with increasing passion.

  They swayed like that in the dark for several long minutes. Crawford explored her curves while she held him, overwhelmed by the new experiences.

  He drew back. “You’re a lovely woman, but part your lips for me,” he demanded impatiently.

  As soon as she did, he teased his tongue into her mouth—and the wonders of kissing became all too apparent. She grew hot as his hands rose again, sliding firmly up her back until he held her tightly against him at her shoulders, and intensified the kisses he delivered with such stunning passion.

  Amity moaned softly. She had known some of what to expect but nothing had prepared her for the onslaught of desire Crawford stirred in her. She could barely get enough of his kisses now.

  When Crawford lifted her skirt and caught hold of her bare thigh, she eased her body against his without shame or hesitation.

  He drew back and nibbled on her ear, sending shivers racing down her spine, and then whispered, “Do you ache between your legs yet, sweetheart?”

  “Hmm, yes, I believe so. Is that important?”

  “Essential,” he whispered. “You’ll enjoy this even more.”

  He urged her backward against the wall and brushed his hips against her lower body. Although the fabric of her skirts and his breeches lay between them, her ache became so much more urgent after that. For the first time in her adult life, she embraced the danger of wrinkling her own gown for the benefit of more pleasure.

  It felt so good to be wicked with him.

  Crawford eased her skirts to her waist. His bare fingers were rough and hot against her thighs and hips. She felt a cool draft swirl around her lower half…and then his hand was pressing firmly over her sex.

  Amity bucked from the shockingly intimate sensation.

  “Easy,” he whispered. “The first caress here is bound to be a surprise.”

  “Everything about you is a surprise so far,” she whispered back, gulping down her shock.

  “Wait till you feel me inside you,” he whispered. “Then it feels strangest of all but in a good way, I swear.”

  She could not help but laugh at that. “Boastful.”

  “That’s why you came to me, sweetheart. You needed a man of experience for this sort of adventure. Don’t think about what we’re doing or what happens next. Let your body follow mine.”

  “All right,” she agreed, nodding quickly even though he couldn’t possibly see her.

  Amity closed her eyes and let him have his way. This was what she’d come to him for anyway. She leaned into his touch, tilting her hips toward him when the urge struck or he encouraged her. Occasionally she had to turn her face away when the sensations of arousal became too shocking and made her breath catch.

  Her eyes flew open, though, when he pressed inside her with his finger. Dear God! Now that wasn’t something anyone had warned her a man might want to do. He thrust in and out a few times, slowly, and then withdrew to kiss her again.

  She learned from Roman Crawford to thoroughly enjoy her ruin. The brush and slight burn of his stubble when he kissed her lips made her restless and decidedly hot. She tilted her hips toward him even more as the tension in her body rose to incredible heights.

  When he stopped suddenly and exhaled, she whimpered in frustration. She wanted more of him.

  Crawford chucked. “Best not forget what I’m here for.”

  “Oh, of course, yes,” she said, and then swallowed. Being ruined seemed a much more enjoyable and prolonged business than she’d first assumed it might be.

  She heard the unmistakable sound of him unbuttoning his trousers and the rustle of fabric as he must have pushed his clothes aside.

  Amity gulped, but he gave her no time to consider a delay.

  Instead, he lifted her up against the wall, wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed inside her.

  At first, it was pleasant but then she hissed at the sting as he continued pushing into her.

  “Breathe, lovely one,” he whispered into her ear. “I won’t hurt you more than I must.”

  Amity tried her best, but it felt too odd, too intimate to have him inside her. She strained up, ready to dislodge him completely.

  Crawford grabbed her hands at the wrists and held them above her head against the wall. “We’re not done yet, my lady. You wanted ruin, and by God you will have it done properly.”

  He drew back his hips and pressed back into her, again and again.

  Amity turned her face aside, grateful that the dark hid her flaming cheeks from his sight.

  His grip on her wrists softened, and then he gently wound her arms around his neck again. When he held her close, she could almost imagine there was tenderness between them in that small, dark space.

  And she responded to that more than anything. What had initially caused pain now brought pleasure with every movement of his body inside hers. The ache between her legs slowly returned, only stronger somehow.

  Crawford stroked her cheek softly. “Yes, now you feel it. Now you begin to understand the delights that await you.”

  She blushed even harder. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him branded everywhere on her skin. She feared she might never forget Roman Crawford after this scandalous adventure.

  Amity pressed her face into the crook of his neck, and Crawford cuddled her closer. They rocked together like that for some time. It was lovely. She had to admit, her lover seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

  Crawford slipped a hand down onto her belly. “I need you to come.”

  “What?”

  He chuckled against her ear. “You’ll love it,” he promised. “Widen your legs a bit more so my hand can fit between us.”

  When she did, Crawford leaned back a bit and slid his fingers into the space they’d created. He brushed across her sex and then teased his fingertips down lower, around his own cock inside her. When he slid those same fingers, now slippery wet, higher up, touching a spot so exquisitely sensitive, she moaned out loud and shuddered.

  “Yes, sweetheart. I want you to feel passion tonight, too…but not too loud, if you don’t mind. Whisper to me what you like.”

  Amity had assumed Crawford would do the deed and quickly vanish into the night. Not want to talk about it during the act of lovemaking and take his time pleasing her. “I like this.”

  “What exactly about this excites you?” he asked, kissing her cheek while strumming over that sensitive spot again and again.

  “This.”

  “Not my cock inside you?”

  “Yes. No. All of it.” She chuckled and looked up into his face. “You.”

  “Damn,” he growled.

  He suddenly started moving with more frenzy against her, inside her, his fingers pressing over that spot so sensitive and throbbing.

  She immediately missed the slow tenderness of their beginning. The touches and caresses had made her ruin somehow less sordid and shameful.

  His pace slowed again, and then he pressed hard into her body, but his touch became frenzied upon her sex. “Such a lovely tight cunny. So warm around me!”

  Amity blushed and buried her face in his shoulder again. It shouldn’t…but his compliment excited her. Aroused her even more.

  “I never imagined I could have you, but I’m sure I’ll never forget.” Crawford suddenly eased her back against the wall. They were still joined at the hip as he grasped her bodice and jerked it down, ripping the fabric, and his hand settled on her bare breast. “I wish I could see you naked. My cock surging into you. Your breast tumbling out of your gown and my hand on these perfect plump orbs. Legs spread and my fingers teasing your clit to bring you to completion. My teeth grazing your lovely white shoulder. Giving you a lover’s mark.”

  To illustrate his words, he bit down on her shoulder and lingered there a long time, sucking on her skin.

  Amity shivered, holding him closer than ever. “Is that enough?”

  “No,” he huffed. He swore under his breath. “You’re one of those women.”

  “What women?”

  “The slow-to-find-completion type.”

  She frowned. “Is that bad?”

  Crawford juggled her in his arms, holding her up entirely without the wall’s help again. “Given tonight’s urgency, it could be.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t ever apologize for challenging me,” he ordered. “I have never left a lady unsatisfied, and I’m not about to with you, either. Hold tight to me and don’t let go.”

  This time when he touched her sex, she felt desire more powerfully, somehow. Crawford held her close, his hand persisting to tease her as he ground into her. They stood entwined in each other’s arms, panting heavily as time seemed to stand still. They could have been the only two souls in the world. Except for the ballroom full of society’s finest, her family standing among them.

  Amity loved the slower pace better than everything he’d done to her so far that night. She tightened her legs around his hips to keep him as close as possible. She knew she must look utterly shameful with her legs wrapped around a near stranger, but she didn’t care.

  The sensations only grew in strength the longer they made love, until she couldn’t think of anything else but reaching for more of that elusive sensation. Crawford grabbed her bare bum and rocked quickly against her.

  Amity’s back arched, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, caught off guard by a sudden increase of feeling. Her body tightened all over and she whimpered, quickly trying to muzzle the sound of her cries.

  “My God!” Crawford groaned.

  And then it was over.

  Crawford set her on her feet and drew back.

  Amity’s legs nearly buckled, and she put her hand out to the wall for support as she adjusted to the sudden end of Crawford’s embrace. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but eventually she pushed her skirts down.

  She also hurried to push her breasts back into her torn bodice and looked up at the dark shape before her. “Well…that’s done and everything squared away.”

  Crawford said nothing to that.

  “Well,” she repeated, uncertain of how to go on with Crawford so quiet now. “You’d best be on your way, sir. Thank you.”

  He was suddenly clutching her elbow. “Should I stay?”

  “No!” she cried and hurried to push him toward the secret door. The last thing she wanted was for him to develop a conscience. “You must go. My brother will be looking for me. You must go back to the ballroom. I’ll go the long way round.”