Nicole Jordan by Lord of Seduction

to her cousin.
    A betrothal would give her instant respectability. In the last year, without Nathaniel to lend her countenance and protection, more than one gentleman had considered her fair game because of her scandalous past and had made her an indecent offer.
    It didn’t matter that she was still a virgin and practically an innocent when it came to carnal matters. She was still considered ruined in the eyes of society.
    Respectability would also benefit her artistic career, Diana knew. And she did long to be admitted into the academy, although she wanted it to be because of her talent rather than through Thorne’s connections.
    She had worked fiercely to become worthy of admittance. Snubbed by the local gentry since her aborted elopement, she’d lived a quiet, retiring existence, channeling her restlessness into her art, teaching herself to express her feelings in works with emotional power and beauty.
    For years that had been enough. She had been fairly content with her life. But since Nathaniel’s death, she had come to know a growing dissatisfaction. The burning desire to do more. To
be
more. In the past months she had renewed her fragile dreams of becoming a renowned artist.
    Yet it was the possibility of freedom that held an even greater allure. An unwed lady of doubtful reputation had few choices; a female artist seldom had opportunities to exhibit her work.
    Surprisingly, Thorne had understood the unfairness of her situation, although Diana doubted he could truly know the depths of her resentment. Surely no man could comprehend what it was like for her to spend a life shackled by convention, forced to obscure her artistic skill because of her gender.
    The prejudice against her would be even worse in London. Alone, she would be subjected to the numerous small cruelties that only polite society could contrive. But as Thorne’s betrothed…
    His consequence could indeed shelter her from the gossip and intolerance she would face when she returned.
    Perhaps she
should
consider accepting his proposal, Diana reflected.
    She pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to quell the butterflies rioting there. She really wanted nothing to do with a man of Thorne’s rakish stamp. Yet as he’d said, they would be thrown together simply by virtue of their connection to Amy. And her reputation would only suffer because of it. More critically, Amy could benefit greatly….
    Diana gave a start when Thorne suddenly materialized on the terrace behind her.
    Dusk had begun to fall without her even noticing, and the glow from beyond the French doors of the drawing room told her that the lamps had been lit for the evening.
    In the dimming light, Thorne moved toward her with a muscular grace that reminded her vividly of their encounter in the cove earlier, when he’d been entirely nude. She had a lustful vision of his body, recalling how hard and lithe it had felt pressed against her, how his fingers had aroused her nipple….
    Stop remembering, you shameless goose!
    He had dressed for dinner in a superbly fitting, dark green coat and white cravat that accentuated the masculine appeal of his chiseled features and golden hair.
    Deplorably, the sight of him made Diana warm and breathless.
    It was alarming how vividly his mere nearness affected her senses. When Thorne came to a halt before her, she had to force herself not to turn and flee.
    “I met Amy in the corridor,” he remarked. “She just returned from her ride and is changing her gown.” His gaze raked over her. “I failed to comment earlier, but you look ravishing.”
    She was becoming accustomed to his outrageous frankness and so paid his compliment no mind, although she couldn’t possibly ignore the admiring heat that had kindled in his eyes. His hot gaze burned through the silk of her dress to the pulsing skin beneath.
    “So have you considered my offer, sweeting?”
    Diana dragged in a deep breath, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. “Yes. I have considered