Page 16 of The Tantalizing of a Scandalous Rake

“I wondered how I ended up so bruised. You must have hit every step on the way up.”

“I was exceedingly careful with you!”

“Tell that to the back of my head.”

She gave his arm a light tap and he pretended to wince, rubbing the spot where she struck.

Rolling her eyes, she urged him to tilt his head back. “Noble men are such soft creatures.”

“You just do not know your own strength.”

“Oh I know it well enough, now keep still.”

With the razor so close to his neck, he did as he was commanded, trying to keep his gaze from the curves that hovered around him. A difficult task indeed, considering how close they were. He kept picking up the slight scent of lavender too, working its way through the simple scent of soap. Did she rub lavender on herself or had someone gifted her some perfumed oil?

He would not be surprised if she had been given many things by her admirers, but Rosie did not seem the sort to accept gifts. Something for which he was grateful. The thought of men offering her luxuries made him curl his fingers into the arm of the chair.

∞∞∞

Rosie glanced at the whitening of his knuckles. Either he thought she was going to accidentally cut him, or he was in pain. She could not do much about the pain, but she had little intention of harming him. Though, he had to be no stranger to pain nor cuts, given the scars on his face. The tiny white lines marred a few spots on his face, not just his eyebrow where it was most obvious.

“How did you get this?” she murmured, rubbing a thumb over a slightly raised one on the shadows of his jaw line.

He shrugged. “Cards mostly likely.”

Smoothing soap lather over her face, she met his gaze. “Cards?”

“I seem to have the knack of playing against sore losers.”

“It seems to me you need a new occupation. Next time you might not survive.”

Adam’s lips curved. “I shall have to make sure you are nearby to nurse me better again.”

She shook her head. “I have little intention of playing nursemaid ever again.”

“But you do it so well.”

“Whilst you, sir, make a terrible patient.” She put a hand to his jaw. “Now keep still lest you really do want me to slice you.”

She ran the blade carefully over the planes of his face, her focus entirely on keeping her hand steady.

Not on the way his gaze tracked her movements and certainly not on how her fingers tingled after touching his face so intimately. She fought the desire to spread a hand across his cheek and simply hold his face. Men really should not be built this way. Beauty should be reserved for women who knew how to wield it properly. A wealthy man like Adam had no need for good looks—he would always be at an advantage in the world anyway.

She glanced briefly at his full lips. Her mouth dried a little. What would they taste like? What would it feel like to be kissed by such a mouth? An ache opened up in her gut that she hadn’t felt in an eternity, if ever. By the time she reached the right side of his face, her breaths felt hot and erratic. She paused, swallowed hard and shook the thoughts from her mind.

Or tried.

Adam curled his fingers into the fabric of her skirt, tugging her ever-so-slightly closer. The tiny touch, the small gesture of need, made her stomach do a leap. Her legs brushed his thigh, and she swore she heard his breath hitch. She paused, aware the control over her hands was waning.

“Adam.”

He reached up and took the blade from her. It clattered to the floor.

“What—”

He took hold of her bodice with both hands and drew her in front of him. She could have moved away, she supposed, could have put an end to this. But his eyes were dark and searching and her mouth dried and her heart hammered when she met his gaze.

Rosie knew what he wanted. Knew what she wanted too. Her instincts warred with desire. She knew men like Adam—they frequented her inn often enough. They were bored, rich, privileged nobles who would take all she had to give then toss her aside.

---