Never Trust a Rogue (18 page)

“Precisely.”

His mouth stopped her tartness with a kiss. Before she could recover from that strategic move, he pulled her flush against him. She uttered a muffled protest as he caught hold of her rounded bottom to keep her from squirming free. Then he mustered all of his seduction skills to woo her.

The softness of her lips belied the rigidity of her body, but gradually the resistance ebbed from her. To his great satisfaction, she slid her arms around his neck, lifted herself on tiptoe, and returned his kiss with fervor.

God help him. He had bedded a lot of women in his time, he had experienced all manner of sensual moves, but nothing stirred him as much as Lindsey Crompton’s fingers in his hair, her slim body pressing against his. She was such a mix of contradictions, both cold and hot, with a feisty manner that boded ill for any man who treasured peace in his life.

Not that he cared much for tranquility at the moment. He hungered for a bout of hard, wild, animal rutting. With Lindsey. Only Lindsey.

It was the last coherent thought he had for a time, as Thane lost himself in tasting her, in learning every inch of her shapely figure, at least as much as her gown would allow. The kiss went on and on, but it was no longer enough;
it was a mere sample of the banquet that he craved. His mouth traveled down the fragrant curve of her throat and thence to her bosom. Cursing the barrier of fabric that guarded her silky skin, he walked his fingers along her low-cut neckline and then dipped inside to explore the uncharted territory of her breasts.

A small moan of enjoyment eddied from her. She tilted her head back against the bookcase, resting her hands on his shoulders in a move that was unbearably erotic. With her eyes closed and her lips parted, she looked like a goddess offering him his most carnal desire. Drunk on her wine, he moved his mouth along the edge of her bodice to lap her sweetness. All the while, he worked his finger inside her tight corset until he could stroke the nub of her breast. The action elicited a whimper from her that drove him wild.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, “you are so very beautiful.” He wanted Lindsey naked in bed, her legs parted to receive him. Compelled by the dark delirium of passion, he walked her backward to the nearest table and levered her down beneath him.

Gasping, she attempted to roll away. “Stop! You cannot . . . oh!”

He distracted her by continuing his erotic play with her breasts. “Shh. We’re promised to each other.”

She shook her head. “No . . . we aren’t . . . this is wrong.”

The fevered yearning in her eyes told a different story. She found as much pleasure in this romp as he did. “Nothing could be more right. Let me make you happy, Lindsey. Trust me, darling.”

He subjected her to another deep, drowning kiss. Driven by reckless need, his fingers shifted to the hem of her skirt to delve beneath it. He shaped his hand around her slim calf, sliding upward over silken warmth until he found
the garters that held her stocking in place. Thane didn’t stop there; he was too focused on his quest, too keen on discovering—

A sharp jab to his gut jolted him back to reality. “Ouch—blast it!”

Self-preservation overruled the command of his loins. Thane jumped up, grabbing for the back of a chair to steady himself. He stood there, breathing hard, unable to comprehend anything but the sight of Lindsey half-lying on the table with her lips reddened and her skirts in disarray.

Then he noticed the metallic glint in her hand. A silver letter opener.

He instantly regained his mental acumen. Lindsey had attacked him with that puny weapon. She must have grabbed it from the table. While they were in the middle of their passionate kiss.

Scowling, he rubbed the sore spot in his belly. There was no blood; she’d only bruised him. Too bad for her, his coat was well made and the blade too dull. “What the devil—! Why did you stab me?”

“I warned you to stop.” Lindsey slid to her feet, the letter opener gripped in her hand. “And if you dare to assault me again, I’ll use this where it hurts the most.”

He had faced the enemy in battle without flinching. He had fought in hand-to-hand combat when his horse had been shot out from under him. Yet Lindsey’s threat made his manhood shrivel. He didn’t doubt she meant every word. The little termagant looked fierce enough to carve him into pieces.

“Assault? You enjoyed that kiss as much as I did.”

She shook her head fiercely. “You’re mistaken.”

Her blush gave her away, he noted. How swiftly he had forgotten she was a maiden who had little experience with passion.

Thane fought to get his emotions under control. The galling truth was, she’d had every right to attack him. He had been ready to mount her here in the library where anyone might have walked in on them. Never in his life had he treated a lady so shabbily, especially one he had sworn to protect from bounders and blackguards.

Bloody hell
. He had never been threatened in the midst of a seduction before, either. Usually his women begged him for more.

Frustrated by unslaked desire, he stepped away from her. “Pray forgive me. You may put that ridiculous weapon down. I’ve no intention of causing you harm. Come, I’ll escort you back upstairs.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said stiffly, sidestepping his reach and edging toward the door, her fingers still gripping the letter opener. “I can find my own way.”

Thane prowled after her. He harbored as much mistrust of her as she exhibited toward him. Good God,
she
was the one who’d intended to go snooping in his house—again.

“Nevertheless, I’ll accompany you,” he said. “I need a word with Jocelyn.”

Lindsey came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the library. “No.”

“No?”

“She and Blythe are having a pleasant chat. You
did
want your ward to have friends her own age, did you not? It’s best to leave them alone together.”

Once again, he had a suspicion that Lindsey was hiding something. “A brief interruption will hardly destroy their friendship. What I have to say won’t take but a few moments.”

He brushed past Lindsey and headed for the stairs. The patter of her footsteps trailed behind him. “What do
you mean to tell her?” she asked, her voice echoing in the marble corridor. “Perhaps I can convey the message.”

Something was up; he could sense her nervousness. She didn’t want him to visit Jocelyn . . . but why the hell not? “It’s a matter I’d like to broach to her myself, so I can gauge her reaction.”

“I don’t understand. Is it a secret?”

“It won’t be soon.”

He started up the stairs, ignoring the polished oak balustrade and taking the risers two at a time. There was really nothing covert in what he wanted to ask Jocelyn, yet he was curious to discover what had Lindsey in such a lather.

Upstairs, he strolled down the corridor and gave her a chance to catch up. He glanced back to see her half-running with her skirts hiked just enough for him to catch a glimpse of trim calf. The memory of that silken warmth likely would torture him in the nights to come.

He arrived at the sitting room to find the door closed. Odd that, for it was usually open. He was reaching for the knob when Lindsey thrust herself in between him and the door. To his annoyance, she still clasped the letter opener.

“Must you walk so fast, my lord?” she complained loudly. “It isn’t very well mannered of you to leave me lagging behind.”

Damn, she looked gorgeous with her cheeks flushed and a few chestnut curls dangling loose from her usually prim hairdo. “Call me Thane,” he murmured. “After what we just shared there’s no need for formality between us.”

Her blue eyes flashed beneath the dark wings of her brows. “I hardly think that’s appropriate. And as I told you, there’s no need to disturb Jocelyn and Blythe. I’m sure you have much more important things to do than talk to a pair of juvenile girls.”

Lindsey had raised her voice. It occurred to him that
she was sending a warning to Jocelyn and Blythe inside the sitting room. Why? So they’d have time to cease whatever they were doing?

He’d had enough of these games.

Thane reached past her and turned the knob. Pushing open the door, he leaned close and whispered, “By the by, you may wish to fix your hair. It’s in a bit of a muss from our kiss.”

In the time-honored manner of all women, she lifted her hands to survey the damage. As she did, he deftly snatched the letter opener away and stepped into the sitting room.

Late-morning light poured in from the tall windows that overlooked the rear garden. To his surprise, there were four females present, not just two. Jocelyn reclined on the chaise with the other three surrounding her. She looked perfectly normal, sitting up with the usual white coverlet over her legs.

The girl standing at the head of the chaise had to be Blythe. She gave him a rather saucy smile, her auburn curls tied back with a blue ribbon that matched her dress. At the foot of the chaise hovered Mrs. Fisk. Other than a swift look at him, she kept her gaze downcast.

A plump foreigner in an embroidered purple wrap stood right beside Jocelyn. What had Lindsey called her Hindu maid? Kasi, he remembered.

Jocelyn glanced up at Blythe, who very slightly shrugged her shoulders. Thane had the clear impression he was missing something. Something vital.

He walked closer. “What’s going on here?”

“Hullo, m’lord,” Jocelyn said. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning. Why do you have a letter opener?”

Thane hadn’t realized he was still holding it. Placing it on the nearest table, he said, “Never mind that. Now, answer my question. What have you been doing?”

Lindsey appeared at his side. “Nothing, as well you can see. They were simply chatting. It’s about time Jocelyn had visitors to keep her entertained.”

“Are you Lord Mansfield?” Blythe chirped, stepping forward to dip a curtsy in front of him. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lindsey’s sister Blythe.”

He gave her a nod. As much as he planned to win over Lindsey’s family, he knew a distraction technique when he saw one.

Proceeding straight to the chaise, he noticed that Kasi was holding Jocelyn’s hand, palm up. He aimed a stern look at his ward. “You’re involved in some sort of mischief. I command that you speak the truth at once.”

“Oh dear, you’ve caught me,” Jocelyn admitted sheepishly. “Kasi was reading my palm. I asked her to tell my fortune, so please don’t be angry with her.”

“Reading your palm.”

Jocelyn’s green eyes sparkled. “Yes, and I must say it was most enlightening. Kasi said I’m destined to have a very exciting life filled with lots and lots of adventures.”

The hard core of suspicion in him melted into something softer. It had been forever since he’d seen Jocelyn so animated. Not since before the death of her parents. She had always been an ethereal fairy child who delighted in simple joys, watching the flight of a butterfly or tumbling in the grass with a puppy.

That carefree girl was crippled now, denied a normal life, and it would be cruel to allow her to be misled by a fortune-teller. Yet he lacked the heart to discourage Jocelyn. Was it really so wrong for her to dream about exciting adventures?

Warm fingers closed around his wrist. He blinked down at Kasi, who was placing his hand, palm up, in hers. In a singsong voice, she said, “I read your fate, sahib.”

He tried to pull free. “I’ve no use for such nonsense.”

Kasi held firmly to his wrist. Her raisin-eyed stare had a curiously mesmerizing effect on him. “Be still, sahib. You must not run from your destiny.”

Crouching close to his hand, she ran her stubby forefinger over the lines and whorls of his palm while muttering to herself.

Thane found himself gazing down at the knob of graying black hair on the top of her head. Run? Did she think him some sort of coward? He was caught in a quandary. It seemed rude to make an issue of wresting his hand from this batty old woman, so why not humor her?

Then he noticed that all eyes were upon him. Blythe and Jocelyn wore identical looks of expectation, Fisk was smiling fondly, and Lindsey stood watching with her arms crossed. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as if to bite back a smile, and the sight immersed him in the memory of kissing that lush mouth. He wanted to taste her again, and this time, he’d move more slowly and coax her. . . .

Kasi’s melodic voice lured him out of the fantasy. “You live far away for many years,” she said, “but now you come home to stay. You leave England no more.”

“Someone told you about my military service.” He frowned at Jocelyn, Blythe, and then Fisk, but they shook their heads. Lindsey shrugged as if to say it hadn’t been her, either.

“Long ago, you a very lonely boy,” Kasi continued, tracing the long line that bisected his palm. “No parents, no family, no love.”

Thane stiffened. How could she possibly have known about those harsh years with Uncle Hugo—unless Fisk had been gossiping. He aimed a glare at Fisk, but his old nurse held one hand to her fleshy cheek, her expression openly mystified.

Kasi went on, “You a man of great passion, like the
god Shiva. You destined for one love . . . only one . . . and soon she will be yours.”

His gut tightened involuntarily. Lindsey was watching him, her lashes half-lowered, her expression unreadable. The moment spun out into an eternity. For once, he wanted her to look him straight in the eye, so he could see into her mind and fathom her thoughts.