Kiss Me at Christmas--Playful Brides Read online

  “You said you have a proposal for me,” he said finally, leveling a look at her that said he’d dispensed with the chitchat.

  Hmm. He didn’t appear to be in a flirting mood today. That didn’t bode well for his agreeing to bed her. But she’d come this far. She might as well get on with it. She took a fortifying sip of brandy, which burned down her throat and made her eyes water. Drat. She should have practiced drinking brandy before now. Nicole made it look simple. The truth was it tasted like poison. Regina much preferred wine. “Yes,” she managed to choke out.

  “And that proposal is?” Daffin drummed his fingertips along the top of the wooden desk. He was doing his best to appear nonchalant, but he was curious. She could tell. Excellent.

  “My birthday is the thirteenth of January,” she announced, her belly roiling, the glass trembling in her hand. She set the thing on the desk to keep from sloshing its contents on her lap. She’d never be able to explain to Genevieve why her pelisse smelled as if she’d taken a bath in alcohol. “Today is December thirteenth.”

  “Happy birthday?” he ventured, with a furrowed brow.

  Regina snapped her mouth shut. Lord, she was doing a poor job of speaking in his presence. She’d practiced this countless times in her bedchamber in a whisper. She’d memorized it, experimented with her inflection, her tone. She’d changed the wording a hundred times before settling on the perfect speech. But seeing Daffin in the flesh distracted her. His height, his broad shoulders, his blond hair and sharp green eyes, and the scent of his cologne, which filled the office with its spicy clean scent and made her head spin in a very good way—these caused all of her practiced speeches to fly out of her head. She tried to remember her next line. Something about a present she wanted?

  “I have decided what I would like for my birthday,” she announced. Drat. That wasn’t how she’d meant to say it. It made her sound demanding, possibly entitled.

  Daffin’s brow remained lowered. He stared at her, his head cocked to the side, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face, as if she were an inmate escaped from Bedlam and it was his task to coax her back there without causing a scene. “Do you want me to purchase it for you?” he asked, slowly.

  She half laughed, half snorted, and immediately regretted the noise. Oh, lovely. She was here to offer the man her virginity, and she’d just made the most unattractive sound imaginable. This was going poorly. If she had any hope of salvaging this mission, she needed to get to her point.

  “No, I, er, that is to say … I want you to be my birthday present.”

  Daffin’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

  “I mean…” She sat forward on her seat, sweat trickling between her breasts. Her breathing turned shallow. She tapped her slipper against the wooden floor in a staccato rhythm. Anxiety made her blurt. “I can pay you if you’d like.”

  Daffin’s brow dipped into a deep frown. “Pay me? For what, precisely?”

  Oh. Dear. God. She had made a complete bungle of this. She considered jumping out the window, only she’d probably end up twisting her ankle or dirtying her gown. Besides, not only would that be cowardly, but how in the world would she face the man ever again if their paths were to cross? And they were likely to. Daffin was a friend to Mark and Nicole.

  “My apologies.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to start over. She swallowed hard. “Allow me to explain.”

  Daffin leaned back in his chair, watching her with open curiosity.

  Regina pressed her gloved hand to her middle to still the nerves running amok in her belly. “For my thirtieth birthday—before it, actually—I have decided that I must … that I want to…” Her face heated. She cleared her throat. “Divest myself of my…” She stared at him, unable to force the word out of her dry throat.

  “Of your…” he prompted, his eyes still narrowed on her.

  “Virginity,” she blurted. She grabbed her drink and sucked down an indecent amount of the stuff, which only served to spin her off into a coughing fit.

  When she finally stopped coughing and returned her tortured gaze to his face, Daffin’s was a mixture of surprise and … interest? He tugged at his cravat, sticking a finger under the neckcloth to pull at it. He opened his mouth to speak. Closed it, and opened it again. Finally words emerged from his perfect lips. “I thought that’s what you meant to say, but I had to be certain.”

  “I understand,” she said with a nod. Oh, why wouldn’t he give her a hint about how he felt? His face had returned to its previous unreadable state.

  Daffin cocked his head to the side and traced a finger around the edge of his glass. “I heard what you said, but I confess that I abjectly fail to understand what that has to do with me.”

  Pressing two fingers to her throat, Regina set the brandy glass back on the desk and met his gaze. Her heart felt as if it might escape via her throat. She needed to set this to rights. “When we met last summer, I felt we had a connection, and I think you did, too.”

  He arched a brow. “That, my lady, is a dangerous statement, and I make a habit of not commenting on dangerous statements.”

  She briefly closed her eyes. He was not making this easy for her. She blew out a tiny breath and bit the inside of her cheek, summoning every ounce of courage she possessed. Ever since her beloved cousin John died, she’d made it a priority to be courageous. Tried to, at least. Life was short, and one didn’t get what one wanted by being a timid mouse. “I would like it very much, Mr. Oakleaf, er, Daffin, if you were the man to … ahem … take my virginity.”

  There. Now that the words were completely out in the open, they weren’t so bad, were they? Only they were. She could tell by the look on his face, the expression of surprise that spread quickly across his handsome features.

  “You … what?” The desk chair squeaked beneath his weight as he eased forward, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. He’d heard her. She could see it in his eyes.

  More courage. She straightened her spine and resisted the urge to avert her gaze from his piercing appraisal. “I am a spinster, Mr. Oakleaf.” How utterly ridiculous was she for calling him “Mr. Oakleaf” when she’d just asked him to take her virginity? “I have been firmly and solidly ‘on the shelf’ as they say for quite some time, which has never bothered me. However, given recent events in my family, I would like to take a lover while I still have the choice to decide for myself whom I give myself to.”

  “You want me to be your lover?” he asked.

  “Yes, precisely.” She gulped, feeling as if she were standing in the middle of the park in only her shift, while a crowd gazed at her.

  “Why me?”

  “As I said, I thought we shared a connection, not to mention, Mark and Nicole think highly of you.”

  His eyes remained narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘recent events in your family’?”

  She winced. She’d been afraid he would ask that. She wasn’t certain she should admit this next part, but he would find out soon enough. The announcement would be printed in the papers after Christmastide, and Mark would no doubt mention it to him. She straightened her shoulders and met Daffin’s gaze. “I am soon to become engaged to the Earl of Dryden.”

  “Engaged?” he echoed. Was it her imagination or had disappointment flashed across his face? “To Dryden?”

  “Do you know him?” she asked, perching on the edge of the chair.

  “No. I can’t say we’ve met, but I’ve heard of him.”

  She blew out a breath. “Yes, well, my uncle is dying and he’s become preoccupied with ensuring that I’m settled before he goes. My grandmother is elderly. He’s worried about me. I understand, but—”

  “But I take it from your proposal to me, that you’re not as enthusiastic about the good earl’s offer as your uncle is.”

  Regina shook her head miserably. “Dryden offered for me years ago when I first made my debut. I turned him down. That was back when I had scores of offers, and Uncle Edward was convinced I’d choose another man. These
days, however, Dryden is the only one who’s offered.”

  “I see,” Daffin replied. “Been settled on you all these years, eh?”

  Regina couldn’t help her unladylike eye roll. “He’s much more settled on the land he stands to gain as part of my dowry, but it seems he’s not one to give up easily. I’ve been putting him off for years, but Uncle Edward has finally told me to prepare myself to marry him.”

  “What do Mark and Nicole think about that?”

  “They want my happiness, of course, but they also understand why Uncle Edward worries about me. He comes from a different era, one in which marriages were made based entirely on family names and dowries.”

  “And you don’t agree with that sort of an arrangement?” Daffin asked.

  “There’s a reason I remained a spinster. I’ve yet to find the man I want to marry.”

  Their gazes met and an undeniable spark leaped between them, but Regina glanced away. The talk of marriage was too much. How had they got into this? She’d come to offer him her virginity, not recite the reasons she was a spinster.

  Daffin cleared his throat. “May I ask why you’re interested in, ahem, losing your virginity ahead of your marriage?”

  Regina’s face heated. She’d been expecting this question, too, but that didn’t make it less awkward. “I don’t want to marry Dryden and I certainly don’t want to go to bed with him. But Uncle Edward is insistent. If I must marry the earl, I at least want to give my virginity to the man of my choice.” She glanced at him sheepishly. “And that man is you.”

  Daffin rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He blew out a deep breath. Tension was coiled in his shoulders. She could see it there, and it made her anxious, made her slipper tap more rapidly against the floor.

  “I fully admit I felt an attraction to you when we met in Surrey. You are a beautiful, desirable woman, of that there is no doubt.”

  Regina swallowed. “Why do I feel as if the next word you’re about to say is however?”

  Daffin leaned forward and arched a brow. “However, I solve cases for bounties. I don’t accept money for pleasuring my lovers.”

  She winced. The part about the money hadn’t been in the best taste. She should have stuck to her original plan and offered that only as an incentive if he seemed hesitant, but her blasted nerves had got the better of her and she’d blurted it out. She might as well be honest with him.

  “I’m sorry. I’d heard that gentlemen sometimes pay for the service when they lose their virginity; I assumed the practice could apply to both sexes given the right … circumstances.” She winced again. No. Definitely not helping.

  He shook his head, but the hint of a smile still played across his lips. That was encouraging. Perhaps he wouldn’t order her from his office. “It seems you’ve confused me with a prostitute, my lady. I should be angry with you. But as you’re obviously a novice at such exchanges, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  Oh, dear. She’d insulted him. Of course she’d insulted him. But his words about giving her the benefit of the doubt caused hope to flare in her chest. “The offer to pay you was ill conceived, I admit. My apologies, but will you at least … consider it? Without money changing hands,” she hastened to add.

  “No.” He pressed his lips together.

  Hope died a quick and humiliated death. She slowly lifted the brandy glass to her mouth and drained the contents in one giant, supremely necessary gulp. At least her throat was numb. She barely felt the liquid burn its path to her belly. “Why?” She hoped her voice sounded calm and reasonable, not petulant.

  Daffin crossed his arms in front of him on the desktop. “For two reasons. First, you are the cousin to two of my good friends, and I make it a practice never to become involved with ladies related to my friends. It’s a certain way to ruin a friendship.”

  “But Mark doesn’t—”

  “Second, you’ve told me that you’re about to become engaged, and as tempting as you are, I’m not such a blackguard that I’m willing to cuckold a future bridegroom, even if you aren’t particularly keen upon marrying him. Cheating is not my style.”

  Regina blinked at him. “But it’s not cuckolding if we’re not yet married.”

  Daffin arched one brow. “Be that as it may, I have my standards.”

  Regina sighed and glanced away. He was too honorable to bed her. Drat. She’d been afraid of this. He’d turned her down with two perfectly reasonable excuses, but that didn’t make it less embarrassing. She wanted to sink through the floor and be swallowed up by Bow Street. Instead, she forced herself to meet his gaze and nod slowly. She’d mustered the courage to make him the indecent proposal. She had to remain courageous during his refusal of it. She slid the empty brandy glass onto the desk. She could argue with him, but it would just make his refusal more excruciating. Wouldn’t it?

  “Don’t you want to … think about it at least?” Very well. She couldn’t help one last desperate attempt.

  He slowly shook his head. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip in a way that made her want to cross her legs.

  “Tempting, but I’ve made my decision.” He stood and crossed to the door, opened it, and with a swipe of his arm, gestured for her to leave. “Good day, Lady Regina. Merry Christmastide and happy birthday. I wish you luck in your future marriage.”

  At his curt nod of dismissal, Regina bit her lip to keep her tears at bay. Then she solemnly stood, slid her hands back inside her muff, and stepped toward the open doorway.

  As she passed him, he said softly, “Don’t worry. I will not mention this to anyone. Your reputation is safe with me.”

  “Yes, but such a pity.” She sighed before slipping out the door.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Daffin closed the door behind Lady Regina, walked back to his desk, grabbed his brandy glass, and knocked back the rest of its contents in one gulp. He groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. Damned if that wasn’t a first. Of all the mad, absurd propositions. He’d thought the woman wanted a job. Turned out, she’d wanted to hire him for one. The hint of a grin touched his lips. A completely indecent one.

  He supposed he couldn’t blame her. She was an aristocrat. With their connections and money, members of the ton often thought they were entitled to anything and everything. He’d learned that lesson well during his childhood, hadn’t he? Of all the situations he could have imagined his next encounter with Lady Regina Haversham would entail, her waltzing into his office and asking him to make love to her was the last thing … the absolute last thing he would have guessed.

  He liked her. There was no denying it. Their connection in Surrey had shown him she was practical and easygoing. She hadn’t put on airs or acted entitled, unlike some of the pampered ladies he’d worked for on various cases through the years. A lady of the ton had caused him the greatest hurt in life. He’d been wise to be skeptical of them.

  But Lady Regina had been fresh and funny and willing to laugh at herself. She hadn’t looked down her nose at him. She’d also been a help to their investigation. She and Nicole had truly been the ones to solve the thing. When they’d questioned the killer, they’d recognized a jilted debutante, something Daffin and Grimaldi knew nothing about.

  Regardless of his undeniable attraction to her, Daffin wasn’t about to bed Lady Regina Haversham. For precisely the reasons he’d told her. He didn’t need to discuss it with Grimaldi to guess his friend would disapprove and he greatly valued his friendship with Grim. They’d been mates for over a decade. As newly appointed Secretary of the Home Office, Grimaldi’s first order of business was to implement a police force in London. The city sorely needed it. Daffin and Grimaldi met weekly to discuss the plans.

  Daffin had no intention of becoming one of the officers. The bounties he made were much higher than the wages that would be paid to the men who were given the jobs as police officers, but he recognized the need for such a force, given that poor people had little recourse to the law since they co
uldn’t pay for their own investigations. Grim was a good man who did good work. Daffin had no intention of jeopardizing their friendship over an ill-begotten affair with Grim’s betrothed cousin, no matter how beautiful and desirable she was.

  The second reason Daffin refused to bed Regina was that while everyone knew the ton was full of liaisons and marriages based on many factors besides love, he’d been honest with her when he’d said cheating wasn’t his style. Besides, starting up an affair with a soon-to-be-married woman hardly seemed prudent. What if their lovemaking resulted in a child? No. He would never put a child of his in such a situation, and it wasn’t as if he and Regina could marry. They were from two different social spheres. Her uncle would never allow it.

  Daffin leaned back in his chair and stared broodingly at the empty snifter she’d left on the edge of his desk. The scent of apples still lingered in the office. He had turned down her proposal, not because the idea of bedding her wasn’t tempting. It was. Quite tempting. In fact, he’d spent a fair amount of time fantasizing about just such a scenario over the past months. In his baser moments, he might have pictured her spread out beneath him on his desk, his papers wiped away by a swipe of his arm, as he hiked up her skirts and freed himself from his breeches and buried himself deep inside her. He’d like nothing more than to use his handcuffs on her. Make her beg him for leniency.

  That had been his fantasy, but his penchant for dominance in the bedchamber would no doubt horrify a proper lady like Regina. She’d probably want the candles snuffed and the bed sheets covering her, like any pampered virgin. Not that he’d bedded many pampered virgins, but he could imagine they’d be less than adventurous when it came to making love. He was a man who prized adventure. In bed and out of it.

  Not to mention, he might be a hired hand to the aristocracy when it came to solving their crimes, but he damn sure drew the line at bedding their women for money. What the hell had Regina been thinking when she’d offered to pay him? Did she believe him some sort of rutting stag? A man with no morals? One who would either trace down a criminal or bed a Society miss if the purse was hefty enough? At least she seemed properly chagrined when he’d pointed out the insult.