I Kissed a Rogue (Covent Garden Cubs) (17 page)

“Sit with me by the fire.”

She could hardly object. The wood had dried and didn’t smoke, and the night was cold. The fire was warm and cheery.

She nodded and moved to join him, her heart beating a little faster at the chance to be close to him.

He watched her, his dark eyes cool and assessing. “I thought you’d refuse.”

She’d been smoothing her skirts down, but now she looked up quickly. “Why?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to sit on the floor.”

“Oh.” She looked down at it. At one time she might have found the notion appalling. But she’d done far worse, not even counting the tasks she’d performed the past day or so. “I don’t mind.”

His eyes narrowed. “Not at all?”

She took a bite of bread. “I could be more comfortable, but at least it’s warm,” she finally said because he seemed to expect a response.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Lila searching her brain for some topic of conversation. She’d always been witty and garrulous, though never so much as to be considered forward. But now she found she could not think of a single topic of conversation that would not sound completely inane.

Finally, she settled on the weather. “Do you think it will rain tomorrow?” she asked at the same time he said, “I have a proposition for you.”

She shifted with astonishment. “Pardon?”

“You asked about rain?”

She nodded but gestured to him to go on. “No, please, you first.”

“Ladies first. And to answer your question, I saw rain clouds in the distance tonight. I think we’ll see rain tonight into the morning.”

“Oh.”

“You seem disappointed.”

“I had hoped to go for a walk tomorrow. I thought I might look for berries or something else we might eat.”

“Berries? In the middle of winter?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose I want something to do. I’ve all but finished the book on the Peloponnesian War.”

He frowned at her. “Is it that interesting, or are you merely that desperate?”

She smiled. “Both, I suppose.”

He gave her a slight smile, and she realized this was the first time they’d had a pleasant conversation in seven years.

“Well, we must eat. If Mrs. Spencer does not come to our rescue again, I will walk to the posting house. It’s a couple hours’ walk, but if the weather is not too bad by afternoon, I could be back by dinner.”

She took another bite of bread. “Thank you.”

His head jerked up, startling her.

“Stop thanking me.” His brows lowered in anger.

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically, confused by his sudden explosion.

He rose abruptly, forcing her to look up at him. “And don’t apologize. You won’t think me deserving of it when you hear what I have to say.”

A tremor of unease rippled through her. The bread tasted stale in her mouth, and she set it down. “You’re leaving me.”

The look he gave her was one of astonishment. “No.”

She sighed in relief.

“You don’t want me to leave?” he asked carefully.

“No.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. He’d never bothered with a waistcoat or cravat, and he’d removed his coat when he was inside for the night. In the firelight, she could see hints of his skin through the fine lawn.

“Then you enjoy my company.”

“I…” He’d been little company the past few days, but she supposed someone was better than no one.

“Might I propose a way for you to enjoy my company more?”

“Of course.”

He looked away and into the fire. “You are so innocent.”

She had no idea what he meant by that. He didn’t seem inclined to enlighten her. “I thought we might look for a deck of cards,” she said. “I’m rather good at piquet.”

He gave her a cocky smile that had her heart fluttering. She pressed a hand to her belly to quell the butterflies there.

“I don’t want to play cards with you. What I propose is rather more…intimate.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t. I shall have to be clear.”

Lila didn’t know why this admission should make her shiver, cause her breath to come short. She had no reason to worry.

Did she?

“What I want, Lila, is to take you to bed.”

Her hand went to her throat, and she thought for a moment she’d misunderstood. And then his gaze traveled lightly over her body—what little she imagined he could see of it—and she knew she had understood perfectly.

“Sir—”

“Don’t call me sir, and don’t go missish and formal.”

She rose, hastily pulling her pelisse closed protectively. “I don’t know how else to respond to such a…a…”

“Request?” he supplied. “This isn’t rape I suggest. You may say no.”

“N—”

He held up a hand. “Hear me out first.”

“There’s nothing to hear, not if you are proposing what I think you are.”

He moved toward her, like a predator stalking his prey. “Oh, I am proposing exactly what you think. More than you imagine, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want to hear this.” She turned, but he grasped her arm and turned her gently back. Only a finger or two touched her flesh. Most of his hand caught her pelisse, but that feel of skin on skin made her crave more.

She knew if he did not withdraw the request, she would not say no.

“First of all, I would point out we are married. What I propose is not immoral. It’s not fornication.”

She felt heat rise in her cheeks. This sort of conversation would never have been remotely appropriate just a few days ago. Except, of course, now she was married. He had a point there. He was allowed to talk thus to her, and she didn’t have to blush like a virgin.

Only, she
was
a virgin!

His hand slid down her arm to capture her wrist lightly. She inhaled sharply but didn’t pull her hand away. “No rejoinder?”

“I…”

But his thumb began to move in slow circles on her wrist, and she forgot what she had wanted to say.

“Very well, here’s what you should point out. We don’t intend to stay married.”

His thumb continued its gentle circles, and heat spread from her wrist up her arm. “Are you arguing against your own point?”

“I’m no rake trying to take advantage of you.”

She looked down at his hand, where his thumb had moved to her palm and now stroked the sensitive flesh lightly.

He gave her a cocky grin. “I’m not a rake. I didn’t say I was a saint.”

His thumb made a tiny circle in the center of her palm, and the light touch both tickled and aroused. Lila attempted to gather her thoughts. “As to your point”—the circle widened, and her entire body tightened—“your point…”

“The annulment.”

“Right.”

His thumb moved to her fingers, stroking each.

“I cannot argue your point because annulment or no, everyone will assume I—you—we—”

“That I deflowered you?”

“Oh, how I detest that phrase.”

He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed the pads one by one. Lila felt the room spin.

“No, you are no fragile flower. I won’t pluck you unless you want to be plucked.”

“Good Lord that’s an awful metaphor.”

He grinned. “It is, isn’t it? But you understand my meaning.”

She couldn’t quite tear her gaze from his lips as he kissed another of her fingers, the tip of his tongue reaching out to flick the end. The room felt quite warm now, far warmer than simply the heat of the fire in the hearth. And her heart pounded in her chest, her body tense and seemingly poised to flee or… What was the alternative? Surrender?

“Another point you might argue,” he said, “is that our actions might produce a child.”

She closed her fingers before he could continue to kiss them. “You really have thought about this.”

“Of course. I’m not an impulsive man.”

No, she could see that now. And why did that make him so much more dangerous?

“There are ways to prevent children, of course.”

Her eyes widened. “How?”

“I won’t bore you with details.”

Lila huffed. Surely he would know the subject was far from tedious to her. Everything he said surprised and fascinated her. She had almost forgotten to be appalled.

“Suffice it to say, I don’t have the means with me. We may still enjoy each other without risking conception, but I know I’ll want more.” His eyes darkened, something she had not thought possible. “I will leave the decision with you, but if you decide to risk it and there is a child, know that I will accept him or her as mine.”

“And when we part, the child will be yours. You could cut me out of his or her life,” she said.

“True. Another point to consider.”

“Then it would seem the honorable thing to do is to refrain from activities that would produce a child.”

“That’s your choice,” he said. “But I will take you to bed, Lila. It might not be tonight, but it will be soon.”

She finally tugged her hand out of his grasp. “What makes you so certain? You won’t force me, and you’ve given me ample reason to refuse.”

“I give you reasons to refuse because I don’t cheat. When I win, I win fairly.”

“Then I suppose you’ve lost.” She crossed her arms over her pelisse.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I haven’t played my final card.”

She ignored the flutter of anticipation in her belly. “What’s that?”

“I’ll have you because you want me.”

Lila blew out a breath of indignation. “No, I don’t!”

He gave her a disappointed frown. “I was honest with you. Am I not to receive the same courtesy?”

“But I am being honest. I don’t love you.”

He held up a hand. “Love and desire are two very different things. I don’t love you, but I desire you. Perhaps you aren’t certain what you feel for me. Perhaps there hasn’t been enough desire in your life for you to be able to pinpoint the emotion.” He’d moved toward her again, and she backed up until she was against the table and could move no farther.

“Or perhaps I just don’t feel desire for you.”

“I’ve seen it in your eyes after I kiss you. You want more.”

She shook her head, but she knew she lied. She did want more of his kisses, more of his caresses. And what sort of woman did that make her when he pointedly told her he didn’t love her? Lila didn’t love him either, but she knew she was perilously close to the edge of that dangerous emotion. He was a difficult man
not
to love. He’d saved her numerous times, risked his life for her, and sacrificed for her. Not to mention, he was all the things he claimed—honest, thoughtful, honorable.

And she very much liked the look of him without his shirt.

If she allowed him into her bed—well,
his
bed—how could she stop herself from falling in love with him? And Lila knew he would never, never fall in love with her. He still hated her for what had happened between them in the past.

“I think this is a bad idea. Not because I don’t want you.” She held up a hand, placing it between them. “But because I do.”

“Why not give in to that desire?” he asked, taking her hand in his warm one. “You are a woman with needs and desires like any woman. Why not indulge them?”

His dark eyes locked on hers, and he released her hand and ran his fingers up to her shoulders and over to the ties of her pelisse.

“Because…”

He flicked the ties and the garment opened.

“Because you might enjoy what I do to you?”

He pushed the pelisse off her shoulders, his gaze dipping down to the front of her gown. Could he see she wore no stays? Her hard nipples chafed against her chemise.

Because she might never want him to stop.

“You can retain your misplaced virtue, but it’s for no one’s value but your own.” His hands skimmed over her bare collarbone. “In the eyes of the world, your virtue is long gone. You’ve lost it without the pleasure.”

His fingers on her skin were so warm, so light. His touched persuaded her, never demanded.

“And you’re so certain you can give me pleasure.”

His fingers halted. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

“Care to wager on that?”

What was she doing? This was madness. She did not want to further involve her emotions! On the other hand, what was more impersonal than a wager? She’d always enjoyed gambling, but she never felt elation at her wins or devastation at her losses. Why should this be any different? It was a game, nothing more. If she thought of it as nothing more than a game, her heart would be safe.

Either that or his touch had so affected her, she was willing to create any excuse to give in. She rather feared this was the case but refused to dwell on the possibility.

“Would I wager that I can give you pleasure? Name the stakes and terms.”

“It’s for me to define pleasure.”

“A given, as long as you are honest.”

“You may not do anything that will produce a child.”

“Accepted. What else?”

Should she be blushing? She rather thought she should be. But she was too excited to blush, too feverish with eagerness.

“You will stop if I ask.”

He frowned at her. “That goes without saying, but you won’t ask me to stop.”

Her breath hitched. “If I do—”

“I will cease immediately.”

She bit her lip, trying to think of more terms. Brook stood patiently, seeming content to wait her out. “You will never mention this wager to anyone,” she said, thinking of the infamous betting books at White’s club.

“Madam, do not insult me.”

“Fine. That’s all I can think of.” She took a shaky breath. “What now?”

But he didn’t pounce on her as she expected. “What sort of wager has only terms and no stakes?”

That was right. She had to set the stakes.

“If I win…” What did she want? More than she wanted Brook to kiss her again. More than she wanted to be safe from this Beezle. Security. Safety. A life where she would not be sent from one relative to another like an ugly family heirloom. “If I win, there’s no annulment.”

For the first time since she had met him again, his face registered genuine shock. His mouth opened slightly, and he leaned away from her.

The fire crackled in the long silence. Lila had ample time to reconsider what she’d said. She could withdraw the words. But she wouldn’t. She hadn’t even known this was what she wanted, not until the words had come out of her mouth. But now that she’d said them, she knew she wanted it more than anything else she had ever wanted, save for her mother to live.