It was unforgivable--and unbelievable--but he had an erection.
At almost thirty, one should not get aroused just from sitting across the table from a woman. Granted, she was an exceptionally lovely young lady, but still, she was just another female.
What the devil was wrong with him?
Jonas tasted the claret, felt a measure of gratitude it was at least a decent vintage, and shifted in his chair to ease his discomfort. Keeping his expression as neutral as possible, he said, "I realize this afternoon was not as fruitful as we wished, but we will make more progress tomorrow. Surely someone will remember a pretty woman heavy with child traveling alone."
Marianne glanced up from her abstract contemplation of the ruby liquid in her glass. "I hope so." Her soft mouth quivered ever so slightly and he couldn't help but being entranced by the sensual fullness of her lower lip. He'd noticed it before, of course, but it glistened temptingly in the candlelight at the moment and drew his complete attention. Actually, everything about Miss Glass was tempting, from the lustrous mass of her striking auburn hair, to the ivory perfection of her oval face, to the undeniably female curves of her body.
What would she taste like? He pictured himself slowly licking that soft lower curve, and then molding his mouth to hers in what he imagined would be her first kiss.
And if she knew, he thought wryly, the direction of his lascivious thoughts, much less saw the prominent bulge in his breeches, she would immediately reconsider his innocence in the seduction of her sister. No, he didn't routinely dash around England luring lush young daughters of country vicars into his bed, but this particular one was fascinating.
If he reflected more deeply, he wondered at his insistence on her having a more fashionable gown to wear. Surely it wasn't because the lower neckline exposed the upper curves of her--from what he could see--very shapely breasts, and emphasized the slimness of her waist? He wasn't merely giving her a change of clothing if he were honest. He was pleasing himself.
The soft blue color suited her, he decided, declining to further analyze his motives. It brought out the vivid color of her beautiful eyes.
"Have I grown a second nose?"
The tart question brought him out of his reverie. Jonas blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You said it to me this afternoon," Marianne explained. In the soft light of the inn's dining area, her cheeks looked a little pink.
He had indeed. Uncharacteristically disconcerted, he eased back a fraction in his chair again. His cock actually throbbed.
"I am sorry, was I staring?"
"A little." The color in her face deepened and she self-consciously tugged at the neckline of her gown a little before it seemed she realized what she was doing and quickly dropped her hand.
Recovering his composure, Jonas gave her a bland smile. "Forgive me. I think I am still a little at a loss as to how I am suddenly on this odd quest for a woman I do not even know."
He should have said he was at a loss for the immense attraction to a woman he didn't even know and was not suitable in any way.
She arched a delicately-shaped brow. "How do you think I feel? I was certain you were a villain, yet here I am with you." After a moment, she added, "Alone."
He really, really, wished she hadn't pointed that fact out in such a forthright manner. But then again, Marianne Glass seemed to be forthright about most things.
His fingers smoothed the stem of his wine glass. "Rest assured I would never do anything you did not desire."
Well, hell, that came out all wrong. Why did he use the word desire? He wasn't usually gauche and uncomfortable talking to women, and certainly an unworldly country miss shouldn't make him so off balance.
Her azure eyes widened and he gave a small self-deprecating laugh. "I think I phrased that poorly. I meant nothing by it, Miss Glass, so do not look alarmed."
"I am not alarmed," she denied, but her smooth cheeks held a hint of pink.
The small dining room was nearly deserted at the late hour, and a sudden silence descended. Jonas sipped his wine and wondered with an inward curse how difficult it would be to conceal his embarrassing state once it was time to go up to their rooms. The fashion of the day that required tight trousers was a bit inconvenient if a man was as hard as a rock. He felt the constriction at his crotch and fought the urge to shift position again.
He didn't know her at all really, and since when did he get the irresistible urge to take some grass green girl to bed? He always chose experienced lovers, for they knew how to give pleasure as well as receive it. Somehow he doubted she even fully understood the process of sexual intercourse.
Of course, he'd love to teach her. The insidious thought sprang into his mind before he could stop it.
Her lashes lowered and she looked at her wine glass with sudden concentration. When she looked up again, those tantalizing lips curved into a wry smile. "I believe I am beginning to understand how my sister came to the state she is in, Lord Wilding. Quite obviously smooth manners, a charming smile, and a handsome face inspire trust."
"I hope you are not putting me in the same category as the man who fathered her child and apparently abandoned her," Jonas said a little too curtly, since he wasn't at all sure he was any better, not with his rigid cock as evidence.
"No." She shook her head, tendrils of red-brown hair brushing her graceful shoulders. "I like to think I can judge a person's character fairly well. Upon closer acquaintance, I believe if you had seduced her, you would care for her and the child."
The subject of children, or the process of creating one anyway, was probably not one they should discuss at the moment.
"Thank you for the exoneration. I told you last evening I do not run about begetting illegitimate children, but you are correct. If it had been me, I would do my utmost to make sure she was cared for and certainly I would never turn my back on my flesh and blood."
"Do you have a mistress?"
Jonas choked a little on his mouthful of wine. "What?"
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