Page 8 of The Taming of a Wicked Rogue

“You are a cad,” she muttered.

“Oh yes, a terrible cad, wanting to see you rested and bathed.”

She rolled her eyes. He had not lost his sarcastic touch either it seemed. She thrust a finger in his direction. “I shall have you know this is blackmail.”

His responding tilted grin made the butterflies dance in her stomach. She pressed her lips together in case her own mouth decided to curve in response. The man was too charming, irresistible and handsome, and he well knew it.

So she would have to keep her guard especially high because goodness, if anyone could get through her carefully crafted shield, it would be Leo.

Chapter Four

Rebecca stilled when the tips of the chimneys of Eastwick came into sight. Her skin visibly paled and she shook her head. “I cannot be seen here. I should leave.” She twisted on a heel, but Leo stepped in front of her, arms folded.

“Why?” He gestured to her. “If it is some fear of scandal, I would suggest skulking around, dressed as a boy and sleeping—well, I can only assume amongst pigs from the smell of you—is hardly the behavior of a respectable young lady.”

“I do not care about that,” she muttered. “My father brought enough scandal upon us as it is.” Her chin jutted out. “And it was sheep actually.”

“Livestock then.” He stared her down, but her glare did not waver. “You know Rebecca, you make it hideously difficult for me to help you.”

“I did not ask for it.”

“True, but you will have it regardless, so you might as well resign yourself.”

She eyed the house over her shoulder. “I cannot be seen,” she repeated.

“Because of your father?” He shook his head. “My servants can be trusted. Lord knows, you know most of them from when we were younger.”

“That does not change what he did.” She thrust her hands into her trouser pockets and kicked a stone aside. “The damage he wrought was unforgivable.”

“He is not well-liked here, to be sure.”

“So you understand why it is imperative that I not be seen?” Her gaze lifted to his, her olive eyes wide and imploring.

“Then you shall not be seen,” he declared.

“How?”

“Do you fail to recall how we snuck around Eastwick Hall when we were young?”

A little color appeared on her cheeks. He hadn’t meant to bring upallof the memories but there had certainly been a great many kisses and fumbles conducted in shadowy alcoves in the house. Despite their young age, the feelings between them had been palpable.

He had a sneaking suspicion those feelings had not faded with time, despite himself. However, he would not be giving in to them. He offered aid because he might be a rake, but he was not a cad, as she had suggested. Rebecca needed help and he might not forgive himself if he did not offer it.

He also might not forgive himself for offering it either. Especially if he did not move his mind swiftly on from how kissable her lips were and how poorly the boy’s garments hid curves that had certainly developed with age. His fingers twitched with the desire to slide a hand down her side and trace said curves, slowly and intimately.

Inhaling deeply, he gestured to the house. “I will get you in unseen, I promise.”

She nodded, her jaw clenched, and they continued on along the path worn into the grass that would eventually join with the main road to the house. Leo would lead Rebecca along the line of trees, out of the sight of the house and into the ballroom entrance. No one stepped foot in there unless they were hosting a dinner party or ball, and that rarely happened given he and his brothers spent little time here.

“Will you tell me where you have been? What you have been doing all these years?”

A few beats of silence followed, marred only by the swish of grass underfoot. “Florence,” she finally answered.

A knot tangled briefly in his throat and he swallowed it. “So close.”

“Still another country.” Her gaze met his briefly before fixing upon the house ahead.

“I was in Florence only last year.”

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