"No."

Dare glanced up at her refusal. He had not thought it possible, but Regan was even lovelier with her blue eyes glittering with anger and her red lips slightly swollen from his kisses.

"I am not a child, Dare," Regan said, planting her fists into her hips as she swaggered toward him. "Nor are you my brother."

"Thank Christ for that small favor," he muttered, pretending not to hear her gasp of dismay.

He was destined for hell for his wicked intentions toward Regan.

Regan glared at him. "Furthermore-"

Dare could no longer bear it. "Enough, Regan, enough!" He whirled around and seized her wrist. Before she could pull away, he brought it the front of his trousers. "There, you see? I am bloody aware that you are not a child. Now leave me, or I will demonstrate what I do to shameless ladies who tease me."

Chapter Thirteen.

Regan stared down at the aspirations that she had written in her diary weeks before she had departed for London.

Bedevil Frost.

Fascinate the ton.

Seduce Dare.

All three laudable ambitions had seemed attainable until she had actually tried to carry them out. Frost was ... well, Frost, after all. He seemed immune to her mischief, or remorseful about his decision to send her away with Lady Karmack. Regan had yet to fascinate anyone in the ton. Beauty and scandal held the ton's fickle attention. It was a pity she did not possess enough of either.

And then there was Dare.

Regan could hardly seduce a man who was so determined to resist her. Nevertheless, he could not disguise his body's response. Dare desired her, though he had made it clear in the drawing room that he had no intention of bedding her. He was too honorable to betray Frost by seducing the man's younger sister.

Nor did she want Dare and Frost to come to blows because of her. Perhaps it would come as a surprise to Frost since her arrogant brother believed the sun would not set without his permission; however, Regan had not considered how Frost might react to her plan to seduce Dare. And why would she? Regan had grown up quietly watching Frost and the other members of the Lords of Vice fulfilling their needs and desires at whim.

Five years of structure and instruction at Miss Swann's academy had not tamed her. Her years away had taught her patience and cunning, but no one could dilute what was in her blood. Regan closed her diary and slipped the small book in the drawer of her desk.

She collected her dark green cashmere shawl from the end of the bed as she headed for the door. Regan was not quite finished with Dare. She had a few more things to say to the stubborn gentleman before she retired for the evening.

Lying on the bed, Dare stirred from his thoughtful repose at the soft knock at the door. He braced himself on his elbows and scowled at the door. Regan would not be so foolhardy as to- "Dare, are you awake?" she whispered.

He shut his eyes as he considered ignoring her summons. Of course Regan was on the other side. After all, she was Frost's sister. The lady had picked up some of her brother's reckless habits.

Dare glanced down at his half-dressed state. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned and the ends pulled out from his trousers. While he was not appropriately attired to receive guests, his modesty was intact as long as his cock behaved. Barefooted, he crossed the bedchamber and opened the door.

To his relief, Regan was still attired in the mulberry crepe and white satin dress that she had worn to the Deightons' ball. She had even covered her bare shoulders with a green shawl. Like him, she had obviously been preparing for bed. Along with her jewelry, Regan's gloves, shoes, and stockings had been removed. She had also taken the time to remove the pins and adornments from her hair.

Dare had never seen Regan's hair unbound. Even as a child she had worn it in a braid. Her waist-length midnight-colored tresses were a glorious thick bounty that made his fingers itch for a chance to touch it.

"You should not be here, Regan."

It took more than a few chilly words to deter a Bishop.

"Well, yes," Regan said, looking past him. "I thought you might be a bit prudish about conversing in the passageway." She rolled her eyes. "Appearances and all that."

Dare hid his grin as he stepped aside and beckoned her to enter. "Frost will be pleased that you learned a thing or two at that fancy lady's school he paid a small fortune for you to attend."

"My brother does not concern himself with such trifles and you know it," Regan said, walking into the bedchamber. "However, that is not why I have come. I never gave you an answer to your question."

He closed the door and braced his back against it. "And this could not wait until breakfast?"

Curious, Regan went over to the dressing table and picked up the crumbled remains of his discarded cravat. She brought the starched linen to her nose and inhaled. The muscles in his abdomen tightened as Dare watched her set the folded linen aside.

Regan whirled away from his dressing table. "We could wait until morning. Frost will likely be highly amused by the notion that you were prepared to throttle Vane over a rather insignificant kiss."

Regan did not seem to appreciate her importance to Frost. Her brother was not going to be amused by the evening's mischief. Dare met her in the middle of the bedchamber. "I propose that we do not bore Frost with what happened at the Deightons'."

Or in the drawing room.

"Agreed," Regan said, staring at his bare feet. She gave a decisive nod and headed for the door. "Then I shall not keep you from your bed."

The courage that had brought Regan to his bedchamber at this late hour had vanished at the sight of his bare feet. The intimacy of their situation had been her undoing. Bemused, Dare followed her to the door.

"You have yet to deliver your answer, my lady."

Her lips parted in surprise. "Oh! I almost forgot." She grinned up at him. "No."

Dare leaned against the door to prevent Regan from opening it. She made a soft exasperated sound.

"No?" he prompted.

"I will admit that I might have been a bit curious," she said, her blue eyes twinkling as Dare frowned. "Even so, I did not desire Vane's kiss."

"What of mine?" he asked before he could censor his thoughts.

Regan bit her lower lip as she pondered his question. "Perhaps I will give you my reply at breakfast."

Dare caged Regan within his arms. "Tell me now. Your brother can be rather bloodthirsty in the morning."

Especially when he learns that I have put my hands on his sister.

"And encourage you?" She did not try to slip away when he closed the distance between them. "I think not."

"You are standing in my bedchamber after midnight, Regan." Dare teased her lips with his own. "I am utterly encouraged."

Dare laved Regan's lower lip with the tip of his tongue. Regan tentatively parted her lips, and he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. Warm, wet, and eager, her tongue curled around his, making Dare's head spin. Blindly he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

"Dare."

He could sense her rising panic as he tenderly placed her on his bed. Now that Dare had her attention, he should give her a stern lecture on the dangers of flirting with men and send her back to her chamber.

Instead, he put one knee on the mattress and admired the way Regan's black tresses spread out on the bedcovering. He swept one of the ringlets from her cheek and marveled at its silkiness. "Hush. I have no interest in taking your innocence."

Dare ignored the growing arousal in his trousers that proved he was a liar. He caressed her lower lip with his fingers, and let them trail over her dainty chin to her neck. "There are other ways to pleasure you," he murmured huskily. He splayed his hand across her slender neck, and slowly slid his hand just above the swell of her breasts. "And me."

Regan forced herself to relax as Dare explored the contours of her breasts. With the exception of her shoes and stockings, she was fully dressed. Dare had already vowed he had no desire to bed her, and Regan believed him.

His proximity was making her feel restless. Dare lay down on the mattress beside her. Despite the layers of fabric between them, the heat of his body bled through and caressed her like an eclipsed sun.

"Perhaps I should leave."

Dare had the audacity to laugh at her. "It is too late to be sensible, dear Regan," he chided, delicately nibbling on her collarbone. "Not when I have barely gotten a taste of you."

She shivered in reaction.

Her corset seemed unbearably tight as Regan reclined on Dare's bed. She could barely breathe, and her nipples itched as the tender flesh chafed against her chemise.

Dare's fingers found the edge of her bodice. "Should I play lady's maid for you this evening?" He gave the front of her bodice a firm tug, causing her breast to spill out. "Lovely dairies you have, my lady."

Before Regan could respond, Dare cupped the underside of her right breast and covered her nipple with his wet mouth. She was too shocked to even blush. The throat muscles worked as he suckled at her breast. Regan squeezed her thighs together as pleasure rippled from her breasts to the soft curls between her legs.

"A shame we don't have some cream for such luscious berries," he murmured, his lips leaving a wet trail as he continued his ministrations to her left breast.

Her right nipple was engorged and rosy from his mouth. Regan glanced down at the top of Dare's head, uncertain of her part in this love play. If Dare had hoped to overwhelm her with his brazenness, he had succeeded. Regan threaded her fingers through his dark blond hair, fighting the enthrallment his skillful mouth was weaving. She moaned and guided him to her neglected breast.

"Dare," she pleaded, uncertain what she was demanding from him.

He raised his head from her breast, revealing that he was not unmoved by his efforts. His blue-gray eyes seemed glazed with passion and his lips as red and swollen as her own.

"There is much more," Dare murmured enigmatically, blindly groping for the bottom of her skirt.

Regan's eyes widened as the chill of the room caressed her thighs while Dare slipped his hands through the large slit in her drawers. She pressed her knees together to conceal herself from Dare's hungry gaze. It was a futile attempt at modesty. Regan trembled as his fingers touched her intimately.

"Your nether curls are damp," he said, arrogantly pleased with his discovery. "Do you understand what it means?"

Unable to speak, Regan shook her head. Regan inhaled sharply as Dare traced the wetness with his thumb.

"I thought not," he said, sounding winded. "You are too innocent to understand the temptation that you are offering or the consequences if I accept."

Dare was wrestling with the driving need to claim her maidenhead.

An unexpected surge of panic settled on her chest like a flock of pied wagtails. Regan tried to sit up, but the boning in her corset made her clumsy. "I may be innocent; however, I am not a simpleton."

After all, seducing Dare had been part of her plan all along.

"Pray, cease your mischief, my lord. I cannot think when you have your hand on my-my-!"

Regan could not bring herself to dwell on where Dare was stroking her. She tugged on the front of her bodice so she could stuff her breasts back into her dress. Dare was to blame for her current predicament. She was overly warm, agitated, and likely to hit her would-be lover if he laughed at her.

"Regan."

She fell back against the bed and covered her face with her hand. "This is all wrong," Regan said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She was not a worldly courtesan or widow who sought lovers only for pleasure. It was humbling to realize that she wanted more from Dare than a careless tumble on his bed-that she always had. She squeezed her eyelids shut, willing the stinging moisture away.

Regan pulled her hand away and glared at Dare. "You were correct. I should not have come here."

Dare helped her sit up. Without looking at him, she pushed her skirt and petticoat over her legs, not caring if she was wrinkling the fabric. As soon as she was satisfied, she slid off the bed. She might have fallen if Dare had not caught her by the elbow.

"We should discuss this," he said tersely.

"Nonsense." Regan waved away his hand and strode to the door. "For years, I watched my brother and the rest of you dally with whores and mistresses, and until this moment I did not understand what was missing."

"Do tell."

Regan's chin came up at his sarcastic tone. "Affection, respect ... heart. It is a cold union for a lady."

"That is because most of those women are not ladies, Regan."

Annoyed, Dare threaded his fingers through his hair. His harsh expression softened as understanding washed away his impatience. "I have frightened you."

Yes.

"No," Regan said, opening the door. "It just seemed silly to continue something neither one of us truly wanted."

Dare pounced, caging her body with his own. "Lie to yourself, but not to me. Your desire was not feigned."

"No," Regan said, resisting the urge to turn and bury her face against his chest. "I just want more."

She walked out of Dare's bedchamber, acutely aware that he was not begging her to stay.

Chapter Fourteen.