The betrothal

Prologue

James Arbruster, Duke of Thorngrove, had a moment of weakness when he laid eyes on Rebecca, the belle of the ball, and let indiscretion rule over propriety or common sense that fateful night. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on, so young, so pure, so lovely he remembered. Her skin was soft as silk, porcelin white with not a blemish anywhere to be seen. Her perfect heart shaped face so delicate and soft, he yearned to touch it at their first introduction, but he acted the perfect gentleman in the presence of her parents. When he danced with her, she smiled at him with her perfect pink full lips that begged to be kissed, and he longed to do the kissing. Her chestnut brown hair flowed loosely about her shoulders, tamed only with a tiara glistening with rhinestones, and her brilliant emerald eyes sparkled by the light of the chandeliers. He longed to feel the silky softness of those beautiful locks of hair cascading around her face. As they danced, he could inhale the aroma of her perfume, and it was mesmerizing to his senses.

He knew the rules of propriety, he knew she was a properly bred highborne lady, the daughter of an Earl, and an innocent at that, but he couldn't resist the urge to pull her into the shadows of the garden that night. He was under her spell, and nothing would do him until he tasted of that perfect mouth of hers. He had held her in his arms and kissed her fully, tasting of her silky white neck, desiring her like no other, and although it defied all reason, he wanted her, all of her for his own. He knew she had no business with a rogue like him, and after tonight he vowed to leave her alone and allow her to find a more suitable match. But then they had been caught....and to avoid her ruination with the ton, he had signed the betrothal agreement. That was two years ago, and he had not dared touch her or kiss her like that again. He knew she longed for his touch, his kiss, his kindness, but he dare not let down his guard lest he ruin her completely. That didn't mean he didn't dream about her every night, and in his dreams, he made sweet love to her, and she was his, completely his and no others.

James had no desire to marry, for he had a lot of vices to give up yet, and the innocent Rebecca Worthington, daughter of the Earl of Pembroke deserved far better than the likes of a rogue like him. He would find her a husband deserving of her, and when she fell in love with him, he would have no problem being released from their contract. Problem was, in two years time, he had yet to find any man worthy of a beautiful angelic being like Rebecca. She deserved the very best, but he had to keep all the rest away from her, especially ones like himself! It was a constant battle keeping his hands off her, but he would not steal her treasure, he would preserve her for the man who actually deserved her...if there could be such a man. It took every ounce of restraint he had to watch her dance with other men and see them touch her, whisper in her ear, or make her laugh. Most of the time, his impatience won and he would but in, removing her from their grasps. Oh how he longed to kiss her, to hold her close, just once more, James thought, watching her stare out the window of the carriage.

Allowing her mind to travel back to that night, Rebecca remembered how James had held her in his arms and kissed her with wild abandon in the garden under the light of the moon. Her knees had felt weak and it seemed that thousands of tiny fireflies fluttered through her body as his tongue had entered her mouth, making parts of her body awakened to him, wanting more. It was her first real kiss from a man, and it awakened a desire in her that made her feel very feminine, very sensual and very much desired. But then, her parents had found the two strangers alone in the garden, lost in a rapturous moment, and Rebecca's whole world had come crashing down with her mother's scream. The next thing she knew, she was betrothed to the Duke of Thorngrove.

That was the last time he held her like that, the last time he kissed her so passionately, the last time he really looked at her like he desired her. These past two years he had fulfilled his obligations to her, giving her a beautiful ring, allowing her to buy herself things with his credit, taking her to all the expected social events of the ton.....but as for love, no there was no love, no words of kindness, no tender caresses, nothing she would want of the man she was to marry to portray. Oh how she wished he could care for her, perhaps even feel desire for her if not love. Truly, she preferred love, but James obviously did not love her....in fact, it was entirely possible that he hated her! Oh what a wretched wretched mess this was!