few hours later, Emma's eyelids fluttered open, and she groggily took in her surroundings. She took a deep breath and let

out a catlike yawn, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A faint smell of musk hung in the air, and she

sniffed a few times, unused to such a scent in her bedroom. Taking another breath of the heady aroma, she yawned again, squeezing her eyes shut as she twisted her body around, turning onto her side. With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes again.

And then she opened them wider, finding herself mere inches away from Alex's face.

That was when she realized that the heavy weight across her hips was Alex's leg. She sucked in her breath, startled by the intimacy.

"Oh my," she breathed, holding herself very still, lest she wake the man sleeping next to her. She hadn't any experience with

this sort of situation. If she moved, she'd probably wake him up. On the other hand, her heart was beating so rapidly she knew

that there was no way she'd be able to fall back asleep.

It seemed to her that she probably ought to scream. Or faint. That, she imagined, was what a well-brought-up lady was

supposed to do in such a situation. But then again, a well-brought-up lady wasn't supposed to be in such a situation. Anyway,

she didn't really see how screaming would solve anything. And swooning seemed a rather stupid endeavor; one couldn't really

do anything while unconscious, and once she awoke, she'd be in the same place in which she'd started. Besides, Emma thought wryly, she really wasn't much good at fainting without a sufficient blow to the head.

There would be a scandal, she supposed, unless Alex and her family behaved with the utmost discretion. Actually, there was a very good chance that Uncle Henry and Aunt Caroline hadn't yet noticed her absence. When they left for Lady Mottram's ball, Emma had let them think that she was retiring early with a headache. They had been very worried about her because she had seemed so depressed and tired for the past couple of days. They told Emma to get some rest, and she was sure they wouldn't bother her when they returned. Ned would know, of course. And Belle, too, who would almost certainly ferret out the information from her brother the minute she got back home.

She'd be all right as long as she made it home before sunrise, when the servants started going about their daily chores. Her

cousins had probably left the front door open for her. She smiled wryly. Belle and Ned were probably waiting for her in the

front parlor, taking turns keeping watch through the window so they could let her in. They wouldn't want to miss whatever

story Emma offered to explain her lengthy absence.

Emma twisted her head and squinted at the clock that sat on Alex's nightstand. It was quarter to four in the morning. Henry, Caroline, and Belle had probably returned from Lady Mottram's sometime in the last couple of hours. She still had plenty of

time. It didn't really matter if she left now or in a half an hour. Whatever damage she had incurred was already done.

Having duly justified her silence, Emma was content to lie in the big bed, studying Alex's face. He looked very boyish while

he slept. His dark lashes were sinfully long as they rested against his cheeks, and Emma found herself wishing, not for the

first time, that she had lashes like that to frame her own eyes. His hair was rumpled by sleep, and his lips were slightly parted

as he breathed steadily.

Alex had thrown a bare arm over the blankets, and Emma could see the very top of his chest. She had never before seen him without a shirt, and she flexed her hand, longing to place it on his chest just to see what it felt like. Her eyes followed his skin to where it disappeared under the covers. He had definitely taken his shirt off, but what about his breeches? Emma gasped. Dear Lord, he wasn't naked?

The leg that lay across her hips suddenly felt very strange. Emma caught her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to figure

out a way to wriggle out from under him without waking him up. Alex made a sleepy sound as he shifted his weight. He rolled toward her, and Emma found herself even more firmly pinned underneath his leg. There seemed to be only one way to

determine the state of his undress. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her hand beneath the covers and slid it down until she reached the soft springy hair on his knee. Emma quickly pulled her hand away. He definitely wasn't wearing breeches.

If he wasn't wearing a shirt, and he wasn't wearing breeches, there was only one other place he could have remained clothed

so as to protect her modesty. Emma swallowed. She certainly wasn't going to slide her hand under the covers and touch him there. She wasn't even entirely sure what to expect.

She tried a different tactic. Very slowly and very carefully, she lifted up the covers, taking great care not to disturb Alex. Once the blanket was higher than her eyes, she peered in, but she couldn't make anything out amidst all the shadows. Summoning all

her courage, she dipped her head beneath the cover, still holding it far enough up to let in the slight glimmer of moonlight that bathed the room. It was still too dark to see anything. Emma grimaced and resigned herself to defeat. If she moved her head

any further under the covers, she might crash into something, and she certainly didn't want that. She slowly unfolded herself, returning her head to its original position on the pillow beside Alex.

His eyes were open.

Emma caught her breath and looked closer. His eyes were definitely open, and even in the darkness of the room, she could

see humor lurking in those green depths.

"I did not remove my undergarments, if that's what you were trying to discern," he said, and Emma swore she could hear a

smile in his voice. "I'm not a complete cad," he continued.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"You fell asleep, and I didn't have the heart to wake you up. You're quite adorable when you're sleeping."

"So are you," she could not help saying.

"Thank you," he said, just* as sincerely. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long."

"You were warm enough?"

"Oh, yes," Emma said mildly, marveling at the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, lying next to a man in bed, in his bed,

at nearly four in the morning, and they were conversing as politely as if they were in a drawing room. She sighed, letting her

gaze float across the ceiling. ''We'll have to be very careful when you take me home," she finally said. "If we're very quiet,

we won't wake anyone up, and we'll be able to avoid a scandal."

"Don't worry about it," Alex said offhandedly. "I'll take care of everything."

Emma rolled onto her back. Alex made no attempt to move his leg, and it settled into the crook between her leg and hip.

"It's very cozy in here," he remarked. "I'm not used to sharing this bed with anyone."

"Oh, really, Alex," Emma scoffed. "You've had scores of mistresses. It's common knowledge."

Alex grinned widely. "Jealous, are we? Now that's a good sign."

"I'm not jealous."

"As it happens, I haven't had scores of mistresses. Even I'm not man enough for that. I admit that I haven't lived the life of a monk, but I haven't kept a mistress for quite some time now."

Emma turned her face to his, her eyes questioning.

"It's been at least two months now, I imagine."

That was just about as long as they had known each other. Emma was absurdly pleased.

"And," he continued, "I certainly never brought any of them here. You, my darling, are the first to grace my bed."

"You make it sound as if we have done something that we haven't."

Alex declined to comment; he just took her arm and pulled her to him. "You're too far away," he murmured.

Emma gasped as she was pressed up against the hard length of his body. Cocooned under the bedcovers, his skin had grown

very warm, and the heat was melting through her clothes. "Maybe," she allowed. "But now I think I'm a bit too close."

"Nonsense," Alex sighed, sinking his hands into her thick hair. "You smell lovely."

"Rose-scented soap," she said shakily.

"I think I love rose-scented soap." He pressed his lips against the tip of her nose. "I also think you have far too many

clothes on."

"Now that I know is not true."

"Will you hush?" Alex moved his lips to her face and kissed her eyes shut. Emma felt her resolve begin to melt, and she

realized that she wanted to be seduced every bit as much as he wanted to seduce her. As he continued to rain light kisses

across her face, she tried to rationalize her position. She knew what she was doing was wrong. Or at least everyone told her

it was wrong. But something inside her told her that this was very right, that she belonged here with Alex, lying in his arms.

It was as if all the warmth in the world had accumulated inside of him and was now shining out of his emerald eyes onto her.

And was she really such a sinner for loving him so much? Emma didn't think so. She deserved this one moment of bliss. Her decision made, she took a deep breath and tilted her face up to his, parting her lips slightly when his mouth settled on hers.

Alex sensed the change in her instantly, and the desire that he'd been almost afraid to feel rocked through his body once he realized that she wasn't going to reject him. "Oh God, Emma. I want you so much," he moaned. "I've wanted you for so long."

As he began to unbutton the man's shirt she was still wearing, he realized that his fingers were shaking, and he smiled

sheepishly, feeling very much like a green boy. As each button slipped out of its hole, Alex got the feeling that he was

unwrapping a delicate treasure. His breath caught in his throat, and he realized that he had never before felt this kind of

nervous, exhilarating anticipation. Finally, the last button popped free, and he parted the shirt, revealing a silky chemise that

bared more than it hid.

He placed his strong hands on her midriff and slowly pushed the chemise upward, the silky material rubbing sensually

against Emma's glistening skin. She shivered, unable and unwilling to contain her response to the strange and beautiful

feeling of Alex's hands through the thin silk of her chemise. Dear Lord, how she wanted him, wanted this. Her entire

body felt aflame, burning up with weeks of unfulfilled need.

Alex paused when the bottom of the chemise was settled just below her breasts. He raised his eyes to hers, offering her

one last chance to stop him, but all he saw in those violet pools was desire and trust. "Sit up for a moment," he said huskily.

Emma did so, and he pulled the chemise up over her head, sucking in his breath as her full breasts were finally revealed to him. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, gazing upon her with reverence. "So beautiful."

Emma flushed under his intense gaze, her skin tingling in anticipation. When his hand settled around her breast, she gasped,

barely able to comprehend the sensations that shot down to her abdomen. And then he squeezed, and she knew she was lost.

"Oh Alex," she moaned, awash in pleasure. "Kiss me. Please kiss me."

Alex's chuckle came from deep in his throat. "As you wish, my darling." He leaned down and captured her rosy nipple

between lips, sucking gently as his hand continued to massage her other breast.

Emma nearly screamed. "Oh my God!" she burst out. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Mmm, I know, but it's very nice, isn't it?"

Emma couldn't deny that it was, so she sank her hands into his thick hair, pulling him tightly against her. If she held him close enough, she decided wildly, he could never stop all these delicious things he was doing to her.

Alex smiled as his lips trailed a path down her stomach, pausing to run his tongue around the edge of her belly-button.

"I think we need to do something about these damned breeches." He undid the buttons and slowly lowered them down her legs. "Not that you don't look darling in breeches, of course, but don't think I'm going to let you out of the house dressed like that again." With a quick tug, Emma's breeches joined her shirt and chemise on the floor, and Alex slid up the length of her so that his nose was touching hers. "I don't think anyone else needs to know just how sweetly rounded your bottom is." As if to prove his point,

he cupped her backside with his hands and gave it a squeeze, pulling her tightly against him.

"Oh my," Emma breathed. She was now completely nude except for her unmentionables, and he felt so hot and hard against her. Timidly, she stroked the warm skin of his back, eager to explore him but unsure of what to do. "Do—do you like this?" she asked.

"Good Lord, Emma," Alex said hoarsely. "The mere sight of you makes me want you. You have no idea what your touch does."

Emma blushed but did not stop stroking his back, and when Alex moved to take off her last piece of clothing, she made no attempts to stop him. "You're going to have to take off yours, too," she said, unable to believe her own daring. "I may be

new at this, but even I know it won't work with your undergarments on."

Alex laughed out loud at that and almost blurted out how much he loved her. But he held back, not quite ready to declare his feelings before she did. Instead, he quickly rectified the problem at hand, sliding his undergarments off and covering her body

with his.

Emma's heart started beating wildly as Alex's lips descended on hers. His hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking, probing,

and squeezing, yet still she wanted more. Finally, his hand settled over her womanhood, and she felt herself buck up off the

bed at the pleasure of his touch. Though he had caressed her there once before, and she knew what to expect, somehow everything seemed much more intimate now that they were in bed, his bare skin pressed up against her own. Suddenly she

felt his forefinger enter her, and every muscle in her body tensed.

"Shhh," he murmured. "I just want to make sure that you are ready for me. I'm bigger than my finger, and I don't want to hurt you."

Emma relaxed slightly, and Alex continued his sensual movements, caressing her most private nub of flesh with his thumb.

As pleasure shot through her, Emma could feel herself growing wet with desire and she groaned, her hips instinctively

writhing beneath him.

Alex labored to keep his breathing even and steady. It was taking all of his control not to plunge into her right away and lose himself in her softness. But he was determined to make this first experience perfect for her. He knew that his would be an

empty pleasure if Emma did not also find her climax. Somewhere along the way, her happiness had become vastly more

important to him than his own.

Emma felt her body arch as hot sensations streaked through her. "Alex, please," she begged. "Please. I need you."

Emma's stark declaration proved to be Alex's undoing, and he quickly positioned himself to enter her. "Are you ready?" he

asked hoarsely. At her feverish nod, he pressed forward. Lord, but she was tight. "Shh," he said, more to soothe himself

than her. "I'm going to take it slowly. I want to give you a chance to get used to me." With a groan that was half pleasure

and half frustration, he pulled out a tiny bit and then pushed forward again, ever so slowly.

Emma was convinced at that moment that she was going to die. There was simply no way her body could take any more

of the pressure that was building up inside of her. "Please," she moaned, tossing her head from side to side. "I want—I need—" She shuddered. "Oh God, I don't know what I want!"

"Shh, darling, I do. But you're not quite ready for it yet. You're so small. I'm afraid I might hurt you." Alex thought that

there could be no greater aphrodisiac than the sight of Emma writhing in his bed, utterly consumed by passion. But still,

he kept his own desire in check, forcing himself to take it slowly. And then, just when he was convinced he could restrain

himself no longer, he reached her maidenhead.

"Emma?" he said, his voice rough with passion. But she was so lost in her own haze that she didn't hear him. "Darling?"

he asked, a bit more loudly. She looked up at him, her eyes barely able to focus on his face. "Darling, this may hurt you

a little, but I promise you it will only be this one time."

"What do you mean?"

Alex grimaced as he propped himself up on his elbows. Dear Lord, had no one explained this to her? "It's because you're

a virgin. I have to break your maidenhead. It might hurt, but I promise that it will go away, and it won't pain you next time."

Emma gazed at his face. He looked so concerned for her, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes a softer green than she

had ever seen them. "I trust you, Alex," she said softly, reaching up to put her arms around him.

Every last shred of self-control that Alex possessed snapped at that very moment and he surged forward. Emma let out a soft

cry at the rending of her maidenhead but found that the pain was quite minimal and was soon replaced by the luxurious pleasure

of Alex's insistent lovemaking. With every stroke, she felt an urgent warmth shoot through her body until suddenly it all became too much, and her entire body tensed and almost froze. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, and then finally her entire world exploded, and she collapsed, purely and utterly spent.

A spasm of white-hot need shook Alex's body as he felt her muscles clench around his manhood. The primitive rhythm of his

body grew fast and frenzied, and then he plunged forward one last time, erupting with ecstasy as he poured himself into her.

Emma heard him cry out at the moment of his release, felt him collapse atop her, and as she drifted down from her own

climax, she thought that she had never before felt so completely content. "I feel good," she sighed.

Alex chuckled as he rolled off of her. "So do I, my love, so do I."

"If I had known I was going to feel this good, I might not have kicked you out of my bedroom the day we met."

Alex cupped her face in his hands. "It wouldn't have been this beautiful, my darling, because we hadn't come to care for each other yet."

Emma snuggled closer to him at his tender words. Surely now he would tell her he loved her. But he didn't. She sighed. She

was too happy to worry about it just yet. He couldn't have made love to her like he just had without loving her a little, could he?

They remained in that position for several minutes, Emma burrowed against Alex as he absently toyed with her hair. Finally,

she tilted her face up and asked the dreaded question. "What time is it?"

Alex glanced over the top of Emma's head to the clock that sat on his nightstand. "It's nearly half past four."

"I'll have to go home," Emma said regretfully. Dear Lord, she hated to think about reality, but she was going to have to get

home sooner or later. Preferably sooner. "The servants will be up and about any time now, and I don't want them to see me coming in. Their gossip rivals that of the ton, you know. If one housemaid sees me, it will be all over town by tonight."

"Who cares?"

Emma twisted around quickly to look at him, shock and remonstration mixing in her eyes. "What do you mean, 'who cares?'

I would rather not see my reputation dragged through the gutter, thank you very much."

Alex gave her a rather perplexed look. ''What's this about a gutter? We'll be married by next week. In a fortnight, all the

furor over a hasty marriage will have died down, and the only thing anybody will be calling us is 'romantic.'"

An irrational knot of indignation began to blaze within Emma at his high-handedness. It was just like him to declare that

they were getting married next week without even bothering to consult her. "Was that supposed to be a proposal of marriage?" she asked tightly.

Alex stared at her, dumbstruck. "We are going to get married, aren't we?"

"I certainly don't know. No one asked my opinion."

"For God's sake, Emma. We have to get married now."

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to, your grace," Emma declared, scooting across the bed and clamping the quilt

down under her arms.

"Emma, you asked me to marry you just two days ago."

"And if you recall," she sniffed, "you refused."

"Hell and damnation, woman, are we going to go through that again?"

Emma didn't say anything.

"Wonderful," Alex muttered. "This is just what I need. A female in a snit."

"Do not speak to me that way!"

Alex's eyes flashed with arrogance. "I was not speaking to you, my dear, I was speaking about you. And if you weren't

acting like such a damned fool, I'd be kissing you, instead."

Emma jumped out of bed at his insult, taking the quilt along with her. "I don't have to stay here and listen to you defame me!"

she exploded, tripping over the coverlet as she tried to pick her clothing up off the floor. Each piece had been flung aside

passionately, so she had to cross the room several times to gather it all, painfully aware of how foolish she must look as she desperately tried to keep her body covered with the heavy quilt.

Alex tried a different tactic. "Emma," he said softly, "after all we've shared, don't you want to get married? I'll go insane if

I can't hold you in my arms every night."

"You are despicable!" Emma stormed, her cheeks pink with fury. "I cannot believe the nerve of you! How dare you try to

seduce me into marrying you!"

"Well, it seemed to be working," Alex said with a lopsided grin.

"Aaaargh! I could—I could—Oooooh!" Emma's anger had reached proportions where her vocabulary retrieval was not

quite what it should be.

"Kill me? I wouldn't if I were you. It'd make a terrible mess."

Alex's unflappable demeanor sent Emma's rage spiraling out of control. She picked up a vase and raised it over her head,

getting ready to launch it at him.

"Please," he choked. "Not the Ming vase."

Emma lowered her arms, inspected the artifact with a discerning eye, and then placed it back down on the table. She picked

up a snuff box. "How about this?"

Alex grimaced. "Well, if you really must..."

The snuff box missed his ear by a hair's breadth.

"Destroying my belongings isn't going to solve anything," Alex said, bounding off the bed, completely unconcerned with his nakedness. "You will marry me."

"Has it ever occurred to you to ask for something rather than demand it?" she burst out furiously, trying to pull up her undergarments without dropping the coverlet. Her anger only grew when Alex's lips quirked with amusement at her

predicament. "Oh, I beg your forgiveness, your grace," she said, her voice dripping with ice cold. sarcasm. "I forgot.

A duke doesn't have to ask for anything. He doesn't have to earn anything. He can have whatever he wants. It's his due."

Emma whipped her head around as she said the last words, and she was stunned by the seething expression on Alex's face. Horrified, she took a step backwards, still clutching nervously to the blanket which shielded her from his furious gaze.

"Emma," he said very tightly, "will you marry me?"

"No!" She could barely believe she had said it, but the word actually came out rather forcefully.

"That is it!" Alex exploded. He crossed the room in swift, angry strides and snatched the coverlet away from Emma. She desperately tried to cover herself but soon found that that wasn't really necessary, for Alex seemed intent on shoving her

into her clothes. "I have had enough of your petty tantrums," he bit out, pulling the chemise over her head. "If you wanted

to prove to me that you are not a shrinking miss who can be ordered about, you can rest assured. You have done so. Now

stop acting like a child and accept the inevitable. You will marry me, and you will do it with a smile on your face."

Emma flashed him a sickeningly sweet grin. "Is that good enough, your grace? We wouldn't want it to get out that the great

duke of Ashbourne had to force a woman to marry him." She regretted the words the minute they flew out of her mouth,

instantly aware that she had gone too far. Alex's face was a mask of barely concealed rage, and his grip on her upper arms tightened until Emma was sure she would be bruised. "I'm sorry," she said in a strangled voice, unable to look him in the eye.

Disgusted, Alex let go of her and crossed the room to the chair on which he had left his evening clothes a few hours earlier

before crawling into bed next to Emma. With sharp, savage movements he dressed himself, and all Emma could do was stare, awed into silence by his rigid control of his temper.

When Alex finished dressing, he tossed Emma her overcoat and crossed the room to the door, giving it a vicious yank. It didn't budge, and Alex swore viciously as he remembered that he had locked it the night before.

"The key," Emma whispered in horror. "You threw it out the window."

He ignored her as he strode into his dressing room and disappeared. Within seconds the door to the room opened from the

outside. Alex's broad shoulders nearly filled the entire doorway. "Let's go," he said tersely.

Emma wisely chose not to rage at him about his letting her think they'd been trapped in the room the previous evening, and she

lost no time in following his bidding, half afraid of his obvious, although tightly leashed, fury, half figuring that she wanted to go home anyway, so wasn't she getting what she wanted? She scrambled down the stairs and waited in the front hall while Alex woke up one of his footmen and asked that a carriage be made ready. "It will take a few minutes," he said when he returned, silently daring her to protest the delay. "I'm afraid my household isn't used to activity at this time in the morning."

Emma gulped and nodded, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor. She was starting to feel a little ashamed of her tantrum.

It was probably very natural for Alex to assume that they would get married now that they had slept together. But nothing

seemed to provoke her ire like his highhanded manner, and something within her had snapped when he simply announced their forthcoming nuptials. Now, as she looked hesitantly at his still-furious visage, she quickly realized that for all her outspokenness, she wasn't brave enough to venture a word.

* * *

Ten minutes later she was hustled into a carriage, and with dismay she noticed that the first streaks of dawn were beginning

to light the sky. The servants at the Blydon household would already have begun their morning chores. They would notice her unconventional arrival and tell their friends who worked in other households, who in turn would tell their employers. Emma

sighed wearily. There would be no avoiding a scandal.

It wasn't a long ride home, but by the time the carriage pulled up in front of the Blydon mansion the sun had risen, and London

was beginning to wake up. Alex quickly jumped down, practically dragging Emma along with him.

"There is no need to be so rough, your grace," Emma said indignantly as she stumbled up the steps behind him.

Alex whirled around and took her chin in his hand, holding her face up so that she could not avoid looking him straight in the eye. "My name is Alex," he said sharply. "Since we will be married this weekend, I would appreciate it if you would remember that."

"This weekend?" Emma said weakly.

Alex didn't answer; he just started banging furiously on the door.

"For God's sake, Alex! I have a key!" Emma grabbed at his arms, trying to stop the noise. She pulled the key from her

pocket and let them in. "Now will you go?" she pleaded. "I can see myself up to my bedroom."

Alex flashed her a wicked smile. "Lord Henry!" he bellowed. "Lady Caroline!"

"What are you doing?" Emma hissed. "Are you determined to ruin me?"

"I am determined to marry you."

"What is going on here?"

Emma looked up. Henry and Caroline were scurrying down the curved staircase, looking at the couple in the hall with

expressions of confusion and shock.

Alex planted his hands on his hips. "I have thoroughly compromised your niece," he declared. "Will you please insist that

she marry me?"

Caroline didn't bat an eyelash. "This," she announced, "is most peculiar."