What a Reckless Rogue Needs (20 page)

“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” she said.

“I like hot baths and stay in until the water grows cold and my toes and fingers wrinkle. Now tell me something about you I don’t already know,” he said.

“I love scents,” she said. “They mesmerize me. I stop sometimes to inhale the smell of beeswax candles.”

He regarded her with fascination. “What other scents do you like?”

“Rose soap and warm sugar biscuits.” She paused. “I love the scent of freshly washed and ironed linens; they smell of sunshine. Sometimes I hold them and keep breathing in the warmth and the sun. What scents do you like?” she murmured.

He nuzzled her neck. “I like the scent of your skin and the feel of your soft cheeks.” He met her gaze. “I like your slender fingers and the pearl earrings that dangle from your ears.” He flicked one with his finger. Then he smiled a little. “I like when you’re feisty and want to spar with me.”

“Surely you jest,” she said, laughing.

“No, I like that you’re spirited and clever.” He considered her with a mischievous expression. “There are other things about you I like very well, but I’ll keep them to myself.”

She sniffed. “Doubtless they are wicked.”

He laughed. “I’m not telling.”

“Good,” she said.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked.

She frowned. “For what?”

“This.” He leaned down and captured her lips.

W
hen he drew his tongue over the seam of her mouth, she opened for him, welcomed him, and hoped she would never forget the taste of this man she’d known since before she could remember. Despite everything that loomed between them—her past and his raking—she craved him. But it was more, much more than a craving. It was need, soul deep, for him, just him.

Little by little, he’d captured pieces of her heart. She remembered the sweat running down his face in the woods, despite the bitter cold wind, and his guttural shout as he’d swung that ax. She recalled the day at the folly when he’d thought no one cared about his mother’s grave, and though he’d clenched his jaw, she’d known it had hurt him. Most of all, she remembered his bleak expression when they had failed to turn up his mother’s miniature. She’d wanted to take him in her arms to let him know that she’d felt his loss as if it were her own.

She’d been in denial, because she was terrified of making another horrible mistake, but she recalled him saying he would make the engagement official that very moment if she wished it. There was so much more to him that others never saw. He’d hidden his wounds behind his sharp wit and rakehell reputation.

She could no longer deny what was in her heart. She was madly, deeply in love with him.

Unlike her bitter experience with Brentmoor, she did not have to persuade herself that she was on the verge of falling in love or nearly in love. There was no comparison. This time, she did not doubt her feelings. She felt giddy and anxious at the same time. No matter what happened—or did not happen—she swore she would never regret loving him.

The faint fragrance of sandalwood soap clung to him, and the warm scent emanating from his skin intoxicated her. Unable to resist, she kissed him back, and he grew more ardent. She was lost in the taste of his lips and threaded her fingers through his hair. When she dared to return his kiss, he answered with the sweep of his tongue. Rivers of desire coursed through her. She focused on the feel of his hard chest, his ragged breathing, and the heat emanating from his body. It wasn’t enough. She loosened the knot of his cravat, flipped up the shirt points, and tossed the long length of cloth aside.

He pulled her onto his lap, and she unbuttoned his waistcoat and ran her hands over his linen-clad chest. She somehow managed to get his waistcoat off. When he stood, he let her slide down his hard body, and she caressed him through the linen shirt, but it wasn’t enough. She yanked down the braces, pulled his voluminous shirt out of his trousers, and slid her hands underneath his shirt.

“God have mercy. What have I unleashed?” he said.

She withdrew her hands, pulled his head down, and captured his lips. Then she slid both hands over his rock-hard chest and down his flat belly. She feasted her eyes on the bulge in his trousers.

“I never thought it possible to ignite from a woman’s gaze, but you have seared me.” He kissed her again, a long, wet tangling of tongues. Then he reached for her bottom and pulled her up to her toes. She could feel his erection against her belly and planted kisses over his chest.

Then he lifted her in his arms.

“Colin, what are you doing?”

“I plan to let you have your wicked way with me.”

“Then set me down and let me.”

Angeline looked at his confident expression and decided to take matters into her own hands. She might have limited experience, but having seen his reaction to their previous kisses, she figured she could wrest control quickly enough. When he let her slide down his body, she reached out to him. “Your wrists, please.”

He grinned as he held out his arms.

She knew he was as strong as an ox, but she could distract him long enough to have her wicked way with him, as he’d put it so boldly.

When she tied his cravat around his wrists, he laughed. “What do you plan to do with me?”

“You will see,” she said, leading him upstairs by the cravat. “Mind the steps,” she said.

He clearly thought he had the upper hand, but she had something in mind.

“I’m anxious to see what you have in store for me,” he said.

“Behave,” she said.

“Oh? Will you punish me?”

She looked back at him. “Only if you beg.”

He was grinning from ear to ear as if he thought he would be the victor in this game, but she intended to have more than a little fun with him.

Once inside the lady’s bedchamber, she pushed him onto the edge of the mattress.

“What now, my captor?” he said.

She rose, cupped his face with both hands, and gave him a lascivious kiss.

He tried to reach up, but his hands were still tied. “Release my bonds.”

“Only if you behave.”

“Yes, mistress,” he said, laughing.

A moment later, he was naked to the waist. She caressed his chest and ran one finger down the center of his torso. She noted the line of dark hair below his navel and feathered her finger along the arrow.

He sucked in air. She noted the bulge in his trousers and smiled. “What do you want?”

“Touch me.”

She cupped him through his trousers. “Like this?”

He caught her hand, rose, and circled his finger. “Turn round so I can undo your fastenings and loosen the corset.”

“I didn’t give you leave to do it,” she said.

“You’ll be uncomfortable if I don’t.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Let me, so you can sleep.”

“I’m sleeping at Deerfield.”

“Angeline, listen to the pounding on the roof. We will not be able to leave tonight.”

“We have to leave.”

“Hush. Turn round, and I’ll unhook and untie you.”

“I cannot believe this,” she said, turning her back to him.

“Do not fret,” he said. “It can’t be helped.”

Her face grew hot anyway. She’d wanted to be worldly, but her limited experience showed.

He went to work on the fastenings, and then he helped her step out of her petticoat and skirts. The laces on her stays were trickier, but he managed to loosen them. Her head bowed as he pulled the stays over her head. She stood there a moment in her shift and stockings. He took her hand and walked with her to the bed. Then he pulled the pins from her hair.

“Colin, I can do it,” she said as her hair fell in waves over her breasts and shoulders.

He sifted his fingers through her locks. “You are even more beautiful with your hair down.”

She refused to let his compliment go to her head—well, maybe just a tiny bit.

“You’re quite skilled with lady’s clothing.”

“It’s cold,” he said, and assisted her into the bed.

He pulled the covers over her and kissed her lightly on the lips. Then he slipped his shirt on again. “I’m going to bank the fire in the drawing room, and then I’ll start one in here afterward.”

She thought about the way he’d stayed her hand earlier, but she’d loved touching him. Now she suspected that he would sleep in another room. Of course, that would be the virtuous choice for both of them, but she was worrying over something that would not happen. She released a frustrated sigh. Why did he have to be noble now?

It had to happen tonight.

Colin ascended the stairs and walked down the corridor to the slightly ajar door where she lay abed. There was no doubt about his reasons or his intentions. He would do anything to keep from losing Sommerall. He would take advantage of this one last opportunity for them to be alone. He leaned his forehead against the door. Damn it all to hell. She deserved better. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. He feared this would be his only opportunity, and he couldn’t be certain she would agree to marry him.

The truth would only hurt her, and he wanted to avoid causing her unnecessary pain.

He meant to compromise her thoroughly, and then she would have no choice but to marry him. It was true that they were unofficially engaged, but they’d agreed that either one of them could end the secret engagement. It was clear to him that Faraday meant to purchase Sommerall, and he could not let it happen.

She would never know he’d planned it as long as he played the game with all of his considerable experience. The trick, of course, was to make it seem as if it were the result of unbridled passion. He had the sensual skills to seduce her, but his damned conscience plagued him.

He told himself she needed a husband in order to restore her reputation and help her family. It would not be a fairy-tale romance, but he could provide her with a home, security, and the chance to redeem her reputation. No one but him would ever know.

He didn’t want to hurt her, but if he didn’t do something, he would lose the property. He had just cause, but his damned conscience bothered him. She’d been through a terrible ordeal with her first engagement, but he had no intention of wounding her. He would make sure she never discovered the truth. She would benefit as much as he did. There was no reason for guilt, but his stomach clenched anyway.

He thrust away the remorse. She would be happier once she had the protection of his name. Seeing Faraday today, it had all become too real. Colin knew the man would make the purchase. He couldn’t let it happen. Sommerall was his birthright and his mother’s resting place.

Damn it all to hell. She deserved better. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. God willing she would never know the truth.

She clutched the covers and waited for Colin. It continued to rain, though not as hard as before. Angeline slid off the bed and walked to the window, but it was too dark to see anything. Foolishly, she’d wished he would kiss her again, but of course, she would rather melt in the rain than let him know she yearned for him.

A draft chilled her. She shut the drapes and returned to the bed. Even though she’d explored all the bedchambers at Sommerall, she felt restless all alone here. The blasted rain continued to pelt the windows and roof. She looked up at the dark canopy and wished Colin would hurry. It was too dark and silent, reminding her of all the nights she’d lain awake these two years past, despising herself for what she’d done to her family.

He’d expected her to be fast asleep when he entered the chamber, but she sat up and hugged her knees.

“You must be cold.” He poured the coals and managed to start a fledgling fire.

He applied the bellows and paused to look back at her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” He’d rather hoped she’d fallen asleep, because he was having second and third thoughts about his wicked intentions.

She didn’t answer right away.

“Were you anxiously awaiting me?”

She huffed. “Your head is swelling again.”

“What is keeping you awake, Angeline?”

“You.”

“You can tell me,” he said.

“I’ve already said too much.”

Apparently, she regretted telling him about Brentmoor. “Whatever you told me in confidence will go no further,” he said.

“I know.”

Her confession apparently bothered her nonetheless. He dusted his hands, picked up the candle branch, and set it on the bedside table. Then he walked to the bed. “Lie back now,” he said, pressing her shoulders gently. He leaned over her, his hands bracketing her face on either side of the pillow. He kissed her softly on the lips. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots.

“Are you taking off your clothes?” she said.

“My boots.”
Shout at me to leave.

He drew his shirt over his head and laid it on the chair.
Tell me to go to hell. Tell me you despise me. Tell me I’m the worst scoundrel you’ve ever met.

She sat up. “Come to me.”

“Aren’t you afraid? I’m naked to the waist.”
Tell me to go away.

“I want to see you,” she said.

He did her bidding. “What do you want?” he said in a harsh tone.

She caressed his chest and abdomen. “You’re so hard everywhere and beautiful.”

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

She planted a kiss where his heart beat hard. He clenched his jaw.
You should hate me.

He reached for the falls of his trousers, but she brushed his hand away. “Let me.”

A harsh exhalation escaped him.
Do not make this easy for me.

She slipped the first button free and let her fingers slide over the fabric. His cock stirred. As he watched her, heat and desire collided. He got harder and harder as she took her time with the buttons. When his cock sprang free, she kissed the tip, and he realized she’d become the seducer. “Angeline, you are an innocent.”

She smiled up at him. “Do you like it?”

His harsh breathing ought to tell her. “Yes, but I cannot let you.”

She pulled the covers down. “It’s cold. Get in the bed.”

“Tell me to leave. Now.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said.

“You know what will happen if I get in that bed. I can’t do it.” He’d thought he could seduce her, but he couldn’t. He should have known better. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“You banked the fire. It will be cold, and you are too big. Your feet will hang off the sofa.”

Lord help him. He hadn’t expected any of this. “I’ll leave my trousers on.”

“For pity’s sake. You’ll be uncomfortable.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you want me naked.”

She bit her lip. “Perhaps you should keep the drawers on—just to be safe.”

He laid his trousers over the chair and removed his stockings. Then he pressed a curl back from her forehead. “You are too good for me.”

“I’m glad you recognize it,” she said, grinning.

Hell, so much for his big, bad rake reputation. “Angeline, you keep me on my toes. No other woman can match your clever retorts.”

“Colin, you must be cold. Get in the bed.”

“Yes, mistress,” he said in a faux weak voice. He got under the covers and lay on his side to face her. “Brrrr. We’ll keep each other warm.”

“Colin, I may be a virgin, but I’m not stupid.”

He laughed and leaned over her. “You are adorable.”

“If I allow you to stay, you have to promise to be a gentleman.”

“I’m always a gentleman in bed. Ladies first.”

“You make no sense; you must have a touch of fever.”