“And now, to the nearest pub,” he declared. “I intend to drink a toast to being alive. Do come with me, Portia.”
“Oh, er, that is very kind of you, but I cannot, I’m afraid.”
“Then marry me, Portia. You have captured my heart and my soul. You are lovely and clever. I feel you are exactly what my mother believes I need—a capable woman to make a worthy gentleman of me.”
“Your mother?” She’d never dreamed Rutledge would . . . heavens . . . propose marriage. “I am very flattered, but I cannot marry you.”
“You are going to marry Sinclair. A duke.”
“No, you see, I already turned down Sinclair. And if I did that, I should not accept anyone else.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know. It is complicated. But I cannot marry you, Rutledge.” She let him go.
He joined the others but gave her a longing look, and Sin came to her side.
“Why is he looking at you like that?” Sin asked darkly.
She gave an innocent smile. “Rutledge asked me to marry him.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I would have to think about it.”
He blinked. “You didn’t say that to me. You refused me flatly.” He stepped back. “Are you going to go with him?”
She knew she’d teased him long enough. After all they’d been through it wasn’t fair. “I refused him, Sin, of course. I’m not in love with him.”
“And you aren’t in love with me either. Come, Portia, I’ll take you home.”
“No, there are two things you do not understand, Sin. The first is that I love you very much. The second is that I do not want to go home. I want to spend one more night with you, alone with you, at the nearest inn that will give us a bed.”
* * *
Once she returned to the foundling home, she would return to her world where she had to be proper. They had to keep up the reputation of the home, for that ensured the children’s futures. She could not have an affair with Sin. That would be impossible.
So this night was her last chance to convince Sin to have a real marriage. One filled with love. And passion.
They were in his carriage, heading toward an inn. Sin had turned his attention to the window. Now was the perfect time to surprise him.
Daringly, Portia reached over and stroked his cock through his trousers. Under her palm, it pulsed, twitched, straightened. All with astonishing speed.
And she absolutely had his attention.
She undid the falls of his trousers, bent down, and took him into her mouth.
This time, his cock was already hard and thick by the time it slid past her lips. Fluid bubbled from the full head, leaking over him to make him slick. She licked up those silvery, tart and sweet juices. Breathed in his scent.
“Portia, that’s good,” he growled. He fell back against the seat and gave a moan of pleasure that made her tingle to her toes.
She ran her tongue all over the smooth, delectable head.
Now that she’d been so intimate with him, could she really go back to a life without any intimacy at all? That would be her future if she refused to marry him—or if they had an empty marriage. How could she wake up every morning, knowing she could never do this again to this wonderful, brave man?
Her heart gave a little hiccup. The hot sting of tears threatened.
At least, she had right now.
She opened her mouth wide and took as much of his magnificent cock inside as she could. And sucked him.
Lovingly at first. Then hard and wild and demanding, determined to pleasure him. Because making him moan and arch his hips and grip the seat cushions gave her pleasure too.
Then she reached down into his open trousers and cradled and caressed his ballocks with both hands.
To her shock, he pulled back, out of her mouth. He took her hands out of her trousers.
His brown eyes glowed like gold with desire. “Do that any more and I’ll explode. I’d rather fuck you senseless first. Give you a half-dozen orgasms. Right now.”
“That sounds rather good,” she squeaked.
He was easing her back on the seat, drawing up her skirts when the carriage stopped.
“Damnation,” she breathed, swearing aloud for the first time. “We’ve arrived at the inn.”
* * *
The moment Sin left the room to fetch food for them, which he intended for them to eat in their rooms rather than in the dining room and tavern, there was a rap on the door.
It was safe to open doors now, Portia knew, but she still opened it only a crack. When she saw it was Clarissa, she opened it fully.
Clarissa stepped into the room, clad in a thick robe of a sensible beige flannel.
At Portia’s look of shock, she smiled. “I don’t always wear scandalous gowns, you know. Even though the wealthy Earl of Rutledge is at the inn and ripe for seduction, tonight is just for me. A night with a book and a cup of cocoa. But first, I had to bring my gift to you.”