Free Rendezvous by Amanda Quick Page A

sounding desperate. “It is very hard to change one’s temperament, you know.”
    “I am not asking you to do that.”
    “You are not?” she searched his face anxiously. “You actually like me the way I am?”
    “Very much.” He kissed her shoulder. “There are, perhaps, one or two areas of concern to be addressed. But I am convinced that everything will work out and that you will make me an excellent countess.”
    “I see.” She bit her lip and clamped her legs together. “Harry, do you love me?”
    He sighed and stilled the movement of his hand on the inside of her thigh. “Augusta, I am aware that many modern young ladies such as yourself believe love is some mystical, unique sensation that descends like magic without any rational process or explanation. But I hold a different opinion entirely.”
    “Of course.” The disappointment in her eyes was clear. “I expect you do not believe in love at all, do you, my lord?You are a scholar, after all. A student of Aristotle and Plato and all those other terribly logical types. I must warn you, sir, that too much rational, logical thinking can seriously rot the brain.”
    “I shall bear that in mind.” He kissed her breast, delighting in the texture of her skin. God, she felt good. He could not remember the last time he had wanted a woman the way he wanted this one tonight.
    He was impatient now. His body was throbbing with desire and the faint, pungent scent of Augusta’s arousal was enthralling him.
She wanted him
. Deliberately he urged her legs apart again and eased his fingers into her damp heat.
    Augusta cried out in shock and clutched at him. Her eyes widened with amazement. “
Harry
.”
    “Do you like that, Augusta?” He trailed small kisses over her breast as he stroked his fingers across the soft plump petals that guarded her most intimate secrets.
    “I am not sure,” she managed on a strangled gasp. “It feels quite strange. I do not know if—”
    The tall clock in the corner chimed the hour. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over Harry. He came to his senses with a sudden start.
    “Good God. What the devil am I doing?” Harry sat up abruptly and yanked Augusta’s gown down to her ankles. “Look at the time. Lady Arbuthnott and your friend Scruggs will be waiting for you. There is no telling what they will be thinking by now.”
    Augusta smiled uncertainly as he tugged her to her feet and straightened her clothing. “There is no call for alarm, my lord. Lady Arbuthnott is a very modern sort of female, just as I am. And Scruggs is her butler. He will not say anything.”
    “The hell he won’t,” Harry muttered as he struggled to adjust the satin roses around her bodice and pull her cloak over her shoulders. “Damn this gown. You are practically falling out of it. Allow me to tell you that one of the firstthings you will do after we are married is arrange for a new wardrobe.”
    “Harry—”
    “Hurry, Augusta.” He took her hand and hauled her over to the window. “We must get you back to Lady Arbuthnott’s without further delay. The last thing I want is gossip about you.”
    “Indeed, my lord.” There was a hint of frost in her tone now.
    Harry ignored her irritation. He climbed through the window and reached up to help Augusta down onto the grass. She felt supple and warm in his hands and he groaned. He was still painfully aroused. He thought briefly of carrying her straight upstairs to his bedchamber rather than taking her back to Sally’s. But that was quite impossible tonight.
    Soon
, he promised himself as he took her hand and led her through the gardens toward the gate. This marriage would have to take place quite soon. He would not survive this kind of torture for long.
    Good lord, what had the woman done to him?
    “Harry, if you are so concerned about gossip and if you do not believe you love me, why on earth do you wish to marry me?” Augusta wrapped her cloak securely around herself and skipped