The Devil Rogue (12 page)

“Ah
,
not used to sleeping in strange beds, is that it?”

Angela sat up straighter
.
“Certainly not, my lord
.
Contrary to what you might believe, there are those of us who re
main in our own beds at night.”

“Who said anything about
the
night
?
Beds are extremely useful for
activities other than sleeping.
And might I remind you that you’re about to be sleeping in my bed soon, or have you conveniently forgotten?”

Her mouth
went
suddenly dry
.
“I’ve not forgotten, my lord.”
She needed no reminders about what loomed on the near horizon, nor did she need to be reminded of her impending bathing session with the much too handsome viscount
.
At least s
he had successfully gotten his permission to make her own gowns, rather than have
them made for her
.

What
was
she
going to
do when it came time to become his mistress in reality
?
Angela
experienced
a moment of panic as she logically assumed they would both be unclothed
.
Of course
they would be naked
!
How else would the deed get done
?
But then,
one never knew the habits of men and women doing such things
.

Would she be able to hide her scars from him
?

There
had to
be another way.
If there was one horror Angela could think of, it would be for someone, a stranger, to get a look at her
scarred body
.
That was why she’d refused to have a modiste fit her for clothes.
Rosemary was the only one who knew the extent of her disfigurement.

The most recent addition was the cut on her arm, now healing nicely, but would still leave a telltale scar.
Each time her father had beaten her
,
it had
added to the others until they culminated into a lifetime of painful memories, ugly reminders of her failure to make him love her.

But
he
wasn’t her father, or at least she suspected it.
He
must
actually be her stepfather
. S
he was loath to give him even that title
.
The Baron
seemed to fit better in her mind.

She
thought of
Blackridge, with his masculine beauty, s
eeing her scars and being repulsed
by
them
. It
made
her
stomach tighten into knots
.

His skin was probably smooth and unmarred by
any
imperfections
.
Ju
dging by his pleasing features and his impressive physi
que, he was most likely perfect
.

“May I be excused, my lord?” she asked politely
.

He
studied h
er for a moment.

She needed
to escape his presence, at least for a
little while before she had to—

“Yes, princess, you may
have some free time to yourself, but
I expect you in my room
in two hours.”

5

Villarreal / The Devil Rogue
                                     

Chapter 7

IAN WAS HAVING
second thoughts about his scheme to have Miss Hopkins bathe him
.

What
the hell
had he been thinking
?

Just imagining her hands roaming over his skin made him swell painfully in his trousers
.
He
stood next to the bed, a half empty glass of brandy in his hand, and
stared at the tub
.
He watched the misty steam rising from the heated water
, consider
ing
whether or not he should forget the whole thing
.

No
. H
e couldn’t back out now
.
He
’d already
set his course and
now
he must continue to follow it.

Moving toward the tub, he set his glass on the small table next to it
. He
removed his robe
and
settled into the hot water
. T
he warmth wrapp
ed
around his body, relaxing his tense muscles
.

What was it about the lovely Miss Hopkins that made him want her more than any other woman
?
He was an experienced lover, having
bedded
some of the most beautiful women in
London
and beyond. S
o
,
why was his pulse
racing
in anticipation of her arrival
?

He had no time to answer that question when the knock sounded on his door.

Angela stood
on the other side
of the door to
Blackridge’s
bedroom
.
Should she knock
or
just
go right in
?
What rules of protocol pertained to a mistress
?
But she wasn’t
officially
his mistress yet, so she supposed she should knock
.

Oh, for
goodness’ sake
!

What was she doing here, anyway
?
She should run back up to her room, pack her things and bolt for the front door – now, while she still had the chance.

But then where would she go
? W
hat would she do
?
She had
no other option
s
except to forge ahead, face the unknown, accept the inevitable
.

Gathering her courage, she l
ift
ed
her chin
,
straighten
ed
her shoulders,
and
knocked
.
She heard his muffled voice from within call,
“Enter!”

Angela
opened the door and
walked into
the room
.
She immediately faced the large, imposing bed, the covers turned down invitingly
.
A breeze, still warm from the heat of the day, gently parted the sheer, floor
-
to
-
ceiling curtains
covering
two large, open windows on one side of the room.

“My lord, I
—
”

“
Close the door
, princess.”

Her words
lodged
in her throat
. A
ll she could do was stare dumbly,
as
her air supply seemed to be cut off
.
He was already in the tub
–
naked
!
She blindly swung the door closed, h
er heart pound
ing
in her ears as she took in his broad, muscular shoulders, and the wide expanse of his chest
–
h
is
smooth and hairless
chest
.
Odd
, that. S
he’d heard men were generally very hairy
,
or at least that’s what she’d
overheard
,
as she’d eavesdropped on numerous conversations at parties
.
She knew it was rude to listen in
while others were talking
, but how else was she to learn
anything
?

One
sculpted
arm, bulging with more muscles
,
was draped over the side while he rested the drink in his hand on the edge of the tub
.
The opposite edge supported his other arm,
those
long, tapered fingers
of his
casually dangling
.

The
mellow
glow of the lamps cast golden
,
shimmering lights over his dampened skin, skin that disappeared beneath the
murky
water
at
his waist
.
Thank goodness
!
If her reaction to only half
of him
was any indication, then seeing his entire naked body would probably
have her fainting like a ninny!

By God, no man should have the right to be put together so deliciously
. I
t just wasn’t fair
!
How could she ever hope he would not be sickened by her
scars…her
ugliness
?
She would just have to get herself through the next three months, and then she would be free to start a new life.

“Don’t just stand there
, slave, your master awaits you.
”

H
is deep, commanding voice sen
t
a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach
.
Wait a minute – did he just call her
slave
?
She m
ov
ed
forward with as much dignity as she could muster
.
“I have a name, my lord
. It’s
not slave
. . .
or
. . .
or
princess.
”

Just the same,
she
moved toward him as though
he reeled her in by some
invisible tether
.
K
neel
ing on the floor
behind him,
she
grab
bed
the soap and washcloth that lay on a nearby table
.
She dipped the cloth quickly into the water and began scrubbing his back with the tenacity of a washerwoman.

“Ow
!
Take it easy, will you
?
” He sat forward
, taking care not to spill the liquor in his glass
. “
I’d like to keep
some
of my skin
.
” He turned slightly to
look at her over his shoulder.
“
Listen,
I apologize
. . .
Angela
. . .
could you please begin again, except without such
enthusiasm?”

Angela felt awful
.
She shouldn’t have taken her
annoyance and frustration
out
on him
.
His beautiful, dusky
skin was red from her thoughtless actions
.
“I’m sorry, my lord
.
It’s just that
I was
angry
.
I
t was wrong of me to
take it out on you.”

He swallowed the remaining brandy in his glass, setting it on the table where the cloth and soap had been.
“It’s all right
,” he said huskily
.
“
Just begin a
gain.”

Without conscious thought, she
ran
her bare hands over the reddened spots to soothe them.
“Your skin
–
it’s so hot,” Angela
said softly
.
“Are you always this warm?”
I
t was an innocent question, asked only out of curiosity
.
She’d never touched a man before and she found the experience quite pleasurable.

“I suppose it’s just a little warm in here,” he rasped.

“And smooth, too
.
Do all men have such smooth skin and so many muscles?”
She wanted to know
.
Now that she was here, getting a good look, she
craved
more information.

“I wouldn’t know, princ–
,
Angela
.
I’ve never made it a point to observe other men that closely.”

Taking up the cloth again, she rubbed some soap into it and returned to washing his back
.
“Lean forwa
rd, so I can reach further down,
”
she ordered
.
This was wondrous
!
And she ha
d
n’
t even gotten to his front, yet!

“What are you doing?” he choked out
w
hen
she blew a
cooling stream of air
on
the back of his neck
.

“I was just observing the way the tiny little hairs on the ba
ck of your neck stick up when I
lightly
blow
on them.”

“
Angela.
”

She wasn’t sure
how
she was doing
it
, but
he
was
obviously
becoming agitated
.
So she decided to try different things to see how he would react
.
She knew she was probably playing with fire, so to speak, but the feeling of power and control gave her the courage to continue with her ‘experiment.’”

“Tip your head back,” she said, reaching for the pitcher on the table
.
She
filled it with water from the tub and poured it over his head
.
She soaped his hair, running her fingers through its rich thickness, and massaged his scalp
.
She’d done this before, with Rosemary, but this was entirely different
.

He
groaned,
and she noticed that he was gripping both sides of the tub so tightly, his knuckles
had turned
white.

“There
. . .
done
.
Time to do your front,” she said cheerily
.
However, when she scooted on her knees to get a better angle for washing, she couldn’t suppress her gasp of surprise
.
On closer inspection, she
could see
that
his chest and abdomen
had
several long scars
. They
looked like claw marks
.

“Oh, my,” she breathed, “where did you get these?”

Her gaze was fixed on
his chest, so she didn’t see
Ian’s
expression turn cold
.
“Why do you ask, my pet
?
D
o
t
hey disturb you?”
He assumed she was repulsed by the scars
. She’d been so
interested
in
his smooth back
,
just moments ago
.

“Oh, yes, my lord, they disturb me greatly
.”

“Well, then maybe you should
—
” He was about to tell her to leave if the sight was too horrifying, when she lightly ran her fingertips over the scars
.
He sucked in a startled breath.

“It must have been awful,” she murmured
.
“So much pain.”
Leaning over, she placed her lips on one silvery line just above his nipple.