Let Sleeping Rogues Lie (14 page)

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Authors: Sabrina Jeffries

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Romance, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance: Historical, #Romance - Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Romance - Regency, #American Historical Fiction, #Teachers, #Young women

BOOK: Let Sleeping Rogues Lie
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And like the ram he was, he let a knowing smile tug at the corners of his lips, then reached forward as if to catch her about the waist. Instead, he tugged her notebook from beneath her arm, where it was still tucked.

 

 

Embarrassed, she grabbed for it, but he turned away to read the words inscribed on the cover boards. "'A Natural History of the Fauna of England, by Madeline Prescott.'" He arched an eyebrow at her. "You're an author?"

 

 

Heat rose in her cheeks. "Without a publisher, I'm afraid. Mostly it's for my own use. It chronicles my research into the habits of various animals."

 

 

To her mortification, he flipped through it, silently reading until he reached something that made him laugh aloud. "'Beasts of the Field.'" He lifted his gaze to her, eyes twinkling. "After my lessons are done, you should add a chapter on 'Beasts of the Drawing Room.' That will ensure that you find a publisher."

 

 

"Or that I'm drummed out of London by your fellow 'beasts' for exposing their tricks," she said dryly.

 

 

He continued flipping through. "I don't see any notations for your article on nitrous oxide," he commented, deceptively nonchalant.

 

 

Lord help her, he was prying into things again. "Those are in a separate notebook. One about chemicals." She reached for it once more, but he caught her hand with his free one. As his fingers curled around hers, a tremor coursed through her. "Please return my book, Lord Norcourt."

 

 

"I thought you were going to call me Anthony in private," he murmured, turning her hand over so he could rub her palm with the pad of his thumb.

 

 

She started to snatch her hand away, but remembered her purpose and didn't. Instead, she let him trace circles in her palm, even though his touch twisted her insides into a knot. "I thought you were going to arrange a party for me to attend."

 

 

"I will."

 

 

"When?"

 

 

He shrugged. "I see my friend this afternoon. But it will take a few days— "

 

 

"Saturday. I want it arranged for Saturday."

 

 

"
This
Saturday?" He snorted. "Are you mad? Invitations must be sent, a place decided upon…"

 

 

She tugged her hand from his to take hold of her notebook. "Saturday," she repeated. "It must be then."

 

 

Refusing to release the book, he eyed her closely. "Why?"

 

 

"Because I don't trust you to keep your promise, that's why."

 

 

"I'd be foolish
not
to," he said irritably. "I know what will happen in two weeks if I don't. But nothing was said about arranging the party for so soon."

 

 

Realizing he wouldn't budge without a good explanation, she wracked her brain for something convincing. "The following Saturday is our monthly assembly, which I'm required to attend. Nor can I go to a late party on a school night— "

 

 

"
I
did."

 

 

"You don't have to teach several sessions, then return home to tend an ill father. The only night anyone can sit with him is on Saturday, our usual assembly night," she said, lying for all she was worth. "I can't leave him alone." That much was true at least.

 

 

"Ah, yes, the ill father." Rank suspicion glimmered in his eyes as he used her grip on the book to draw her closer. "Very well, I'll see if I can arrange it for Saturday. Providing that you offer me something in return."

 

 

"Other than allowing your niece to enroll here, you mean?" she said tartly.

 

 

"Something to encourage me to go beyond our original agreement." His calculating gaze drifted down to fix on her mouth. "An additional enticement, if you will."

 

 

Perhaps she shouldn't have pressed him to have the party so soon. "What sort of enticement?"

 

 

Heat flared in his face. "You know exactly what sort."

 

 

There was no mistaking that look. Or what he wanted.

 

 

Pretending ignorance, she stared him down. "I prefer to have things spelled out. That way neither of us can complain we were cheated in fulfilling the terms."

 

 

"You're always thinking like a teacher of mathematics." His eyes raked her as they had the day before. Only this time they lingered on her breasts, her belly, her hips. "Try thinking like a woman for a change."

 

 

"I
am
." She fought to ignore the strange tingling he provoked wherever his gaze touched. "A woman with the good sense to know when a beast is trying to run her to ground."

 

 

"If I am a beast, madam, then you are a schemer."

 

 

"I am not!"

 

 

A thin smile tightened his lips. "You blackmailed me into giving you what you want. What else does that make you?"

 

 

Desperate
.

 

 

But she dared not reveal that. If he knew her situation, he would never help her. It could hurt his cause if his uncle ever found out. The sad truth was she needed him more than he needed her. So she would simply have to find a way to get what she needed from him without losing her virtue.

 

 

"Should I assume from your prolonged silence that you agree with my assessment of your character?" Anthony drawled.

 

 

"Certainly not. You told Mrs. Harris you prefer women who know what they want and aren't ashamed to take it. That's all I'm doing."

 

 

Eyeing her askance, he yanked her notebook free and strolled over to place it on the desk. "And all
I'm
doing is making sure you don't run roughshod over me with your demands."

 

 

"I daresay no woman has run roughshod over you since you were in leading strings," she grumbled.

 

 

He froze, then rubbed his left wrist absently, the same motion she'd noticed before when he was agitated. "You'd be surprised." When he faced her, his eyes glittered like glacial gems as they trailed knowingly down her gown of green spotted muslin. "But I don't mean to let it happen again, with you or anyone else. So if I give you your party this Saturday, I'll expect an additional reward."

 

 

And he was making it perfectly clear what sort of reward that might be.

 

 

Lord help her, this was what she got for behaving like a tart yesterday when he kissed her. That, combined with her frank manner of speaking and her "scheming," had apparently led him to think her rather more naughty than she was.

 

 

But if she set him straight, he would lose interest in her since inexperienced women didn't appeal to him. Then she'd have nothing to offer him as an "enticement."

 

 

And if the nitrous oxide party didn't gain her entrée to Sir Humphry, she might still need Anthony's connections. As a possible conquest, she had more leverage for the future. After all, she needn't do more than flirt and let him kiss her or perhaps touch her a few times. Nothing
too
risky; only enough to get her what she wanted.

 

 

You just want to see what it's like,
a voice niggled at the back of her brain. She shushed it. A bit of curiosity never hurt, as long as she didn't let it go too far. Which she wouldn't, given everything she knew about the dangers. What sensible, intelligent woman would? "You still haven't specified what reward."

 

 

The smug curve of his lips showed he'd expected her to capitulate. "It's simple. After the party on Saturday, you spend the rest of the night in my bed."

 

 

His blunt statement took her so off guard that she let out a burst of nervous laughter. "Don't be absurd."

 

 

He quirked up one eyebrow. "You find the idea of sharing my bed absurd?"

 

 

She found it alarming, terrifying…and horribly tempting. Yet she dared not refuse him outright. The key was to keep him close but not too close until he helped her meet Sir Humphry.

 

 

"It's just so predictable." She deliberately imbued her voice with contempt. "I thought you'd use more finesse in your seductions. No rogue worth his salt should need to bargain his way into a woman's bed."

 

 

A blatant hunger rose in his face. "Are you challenging me to seduce you?"

 

 

"Certainly not!"

 

 

"Ah, but I think you
are.
And I love a challenge."

 

 

Oh, dear, this wasn't going quite how she'd hoped.

 

 

"If finesse is what you require," he went on as he came toward her, "I will accept a less 'predictable' enticement from you."

 

 

"We cannot discuss this now. We're expected outside." She swept past him and stuffed her notebook in the satchel, but before she could close it, Anthony came up from behind to trap her against the desk.

 

 

Not being able to see him unnerved her exceedingly, yet when she tried to slip from between him and the desk, he caught her by the muslin sash cinched about her waist. "Don't run away." He bent his head so close she could smell his shaving oil. "I only need a moment to explain what I want."

 

 

When he slid his finger back and forth beneath the sash along the small of her back, she had to fight the silken shiver that danced along her skin. But she couldn't resist the image that rose in her mind, of his undoing the sash and letting it fall before he unfastened each button of her bodice…

 

 

"Fine," she said tartly, eager to be rid of him before she went mad. "Tell me what enticement you require, so we can join the others."

 

 

"Between now and Saturday you must allow me to give you a private lesson in seduction." His husky voice thrummed along her every nerve. "And it must include more than mere kissing."

 

 

He nuzzled her neck, and her pulse leaped into triple time. The man was an artist of sensuality. How in heaven's name could she survive his lesson in seduction?

 

 

In keeping with her chosen role, she said, "What makes you think I need lessons?"

 

 

"You claim that attempts to seduce you are pointless because 'such things' can't tempt you. At the very least, I mean to prove that they can."

 

 

"Has it occurred to you, sir," she snapped, peeved by his unerring ability to see through her, "that I might not even be attracted to you? That I might find your arrogant confidence and your reckless ways annoying?"

 

 

To her surprise, he laughed. "No, that hadn't occurred to me. Especially not after you melted beneath my kiss."

 

 

There'd been melting? Melting
he
could notice? Now that she thought of it, yes, she'd experienced a noticeable softening of her limbs. That would explain the swoony feeling. And his determined pursuit.

 

 

His mouth moved from her neck to her ear, which he laved with his tongue most effectively. "So we'll have our lesson. Then after the party, if you still consider the idea of sharing my bed 'absurd,' we'll call our private bargain complete. I'll finish out my second week here, you'll speak glowingly of me to Mrs. Harris, and we'll be done with each other."

 

 

He nipped her earlobe, sparking little tremors of excitement down to her very toes. "I'll wager, however, that your choice will be anything but that."

 

 

That's what she was afraid of. He was even better at this than she'd suspected, evidenced by the artful things his teeth were doing to her ear, things that gave new meaning to the word "finesse."

 

 

She'd just about steeled herself to pull away— really, she
had
— when he turned her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers…

 

 

Sweet Lord in heaven.

 

 

He kissed her with a leisurely enjoyment that sent lightning flashing over her skin. He leaned into her until she was sandwiched between the desk and his unyielding, oh-so-virile body, then took her mouth as if it were his due.

 

 

And she melted. No other word sufficed.

 

 

As if feeding off her reaction, Anthony ravaged her mouth so thoroughly she forgot where they were. The long, drugging strokes of his tongue made her pulse careen wildly and her skin feel ripe to the point of bursting, eager for his touch, longing for his touch. Perhaps that was why she scarcely noticed when his hand slid up to cover her breast, kneading it through her gown.

 

 

Then her nipples began to harden and ache.
That
she couldn't help noticing.

 

 

She tried to remember what she'd read about the mating of animals, but her mind was too fogged by his scent of shaving oil and leather…by the starkly possessive thrusts of his tongue…by his other hand slipping from her chin to her throat and then beneath the fabric of her chemise and her gown—

 

 

"Anthony!" She jerked back, staying his hand before it could touch her inside her gown. "You can't…we have to— "

 

 

"We don't have to do anything." His eyes gleamed down at her. "And you, sweetheart, owe me a lesson."

 

 

"But here? Now? It's too dangerous."

 

 

"No one even knows we've arrived. They certainly don't realize we're up here alone together."

 

 

Logically, she knew she shouldn't listen— there was nothing to stop Mrs. Harris or another teacher from coming in to fetch something. But they
were
on the top floor, nowhere near the office, and the door
was
closed, with no one around, and…

 

 

And she wanted to see what he would do, how it would feel.

 

 

Drat him! He was infecting her with his recklessness.

 

 

"We might not get another chance, you know," he continued as he branded her neck with hot, heady kisses. This time she did nothing to stop him when he slid his hand inside her gown to cup her breast, then fondle it in slow, silky motions that soothed the ache in her nipples, only to build it up again seconds later.

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