Page 10 of The Taming of a Wicked Rogue

A frisson of pleasure swirled through her, landing deep in her stomach. The words were scandalous and roguish. Proof of the sort of man he was, and a clear example of why she should not respond to his flirtations.

“I shall not stay long. As soon as I have—” She paused. “As soon as I have finished my business in Langmere, I shall depart for Florence.”

“Naturally.” His smile remained, but his blue eyes hardened in a way she had never seen before. “And what exactly is your business here?”

She straightened her shoulders. “It’s private.”

“You are staying in my house,” he reminded her.

“I agreed to stay here because you forced me. I made no promises of divulging my business.”

“If it is something nefarious, I should be inclined to know.”

Rebecca pressed her lips together. “It is nothing nefarious, but I understand why a man such as you should imagine it might be so.”

“A man such as me?” He moved a few steps closer, taking strides across the rug until he had joined her on the other side, leaving only a pace or so between them. “And what sort of a man is that?”

“A rake,” she said simply. “I am not an ignorant fool, Leo. I know who you are.” She removed the hat from her head and clasped the brim in both hands for want of something to do. The rough fabric underneath her fingertips would prevent her from doing something ridiculous like reaching out to him or running her hands over his broad chest too, surely?

“Do you really?” he murmured.

His hand flexed at his side and he stretched it out, moving with enough deliberateness that she could have ducked away. However, she found herself held captive. Not physically restrained but held by the way his gaze searched hers then flicked down to her lips and over her person. Held captive by the sheer presence of him. She swallowed hard.

He flicked a thumb over her cheek, and she jolted at the touch. His lips tilted. “Mud,” he murmured.

Breaths rasped in her throat and he did not move his hand, instead letting it linger on her skin. She smelled, was filthy and likely about the most hideous she had ever looked, but when he stared at her so, she felt like the youthful, utterly enraptured sixteen-year-old she had once been.

Her stomach gave a grumble and his hand dropped back to his side. She exhaled slowly, uncertain whether to thank or be angry at her stomach for its interruption.

“You are hungry,” he stated.

Even if she had not been, she would have said yes. Anything to send him on his way so she could focus her thoughts once more. She nodded.

“I’ll get you some food.” He twisted on his heel and then paused. “I do not suppose I need to tell you to stay here.”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice, then dropped back against the wall once he left the room. “Fool,” she told herself.

She would never stay in Langmere. She could not. No one would accept her back. Most especially not Leo. The rake had not forgiven her for leaving, she suspected. In some ways, she did not blame him, even if it had been out of her hands.

Oh yes, and he was an entirely different man. She would not forget that.

Chapter Five

Leo should not have gravitated toward the sound of female chatter coming from the long gallery. But then neither should he have installed Rebecca in the house as a secret guest.

If his mother saw him now, she’d have his head. Or at least be exceedingly disappointed in him and tell him so in that sort of manner that made him feel like a boy again.

But, damn it, he was a grown man, and a little conversation with ladies was hardly scandalous, and would serve him well. Namely, he rather hoped assisting the ladies in their tour around the house might distract him from said guest.

There had been too many moments yesterday when he’d battled the desire to stride over, tear off that boyish hat and kiss her until he forgot himself and forgot any promises to his mother. He’d be breaking vows to himself too, though. If he kissed her, there was no telling what would happen to his heart. Would it fall for her all over again?

She’d always had a hold on him, ever since she’d grown into a young woman. Now it seemed that hold had not faded, and despite stinking to high heaven like a bloody farm and being smeared in dirt, he’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her again and recall those heady younger days of being so in love, so damned hopeful for the future.

He shook his head to himself and strode through the open gallery door. The cluster of eight women were a mix of ages, spanning from early teens to much older. He fixed the smile that had carried him through the past decade of his life and walked over to them. The housekeeper lifted a brow when she spotted him. He had a horrible suspicion his mother had written to Mrs. Jones about her request for Leo to remain a staid, boring recluse but did that also mean the woman would be reporting back to her?

Well, let her. The worse that could be said was he had charmed a few pretty ladies. His mother simply wanted him to avoid scandal. What was scandalous about greeting guests in his brother’s house?

“Are you enjoying what the house has to offer, ladies?”

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