Page 86 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

Unable to help himself, he rose from his seat, then dropped to his knees before her. His hands pressed on the seat of the chair, framing her hips. “And I want to kiss that dimple so damn badly, I can’t think of anything else.”

Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked. “You . . . what?”

“I want to kiss that dimple. Let me kiss it, Charlotte. Just once.”

Before she could answer, John arrived at the open door, buckets of steaming water in his hands. “Sir?”

Damn.

CHAPTER 23

Charlotte fought to pull air into her lungs.

Simon stared up at her, his blue eyes sincere. Dark stubble of his evening whiskers peppered his cheeks and jaw. She hated how quickly the wordattractivepopped into her mind. Would his beard scratch her skin if she allowed him to kiss her cheek?

How could she be so angry with him and at the same time want to run her fingers through his dark hair, pulling his lips closer for a kiss?

“Sir?” John, the footman, stood at attention in the open doorway. The man’s gaze darted away, focusing instead on the ceiling.

“Should I send him away?” Lowered to a whisper, the plea in Simon’s voice matched the entreaty in his eyes.

Yes. The word clung to the tip of her tongue. Years of self-preservation, the armor fastened tightly, kept it in place. “Y—y—you should go. I want my bath.”

Simon gave a curt nod, then rose, his mouth tightening in a thin, straight line. When he reached the door, he didn’t turnback, instead calling over his shoulder. “I’ll return to say goodnight. John, bring some water to the guest room when you have a chance. I think I’ll have a bath as well.”

“The guest room, sir?” John’s gaze flitted between her and Simon.

An aching emptiness assaulted her stomach.Call him back.Tell him to stay.

But when Simon turned, painful sadness replaced the typical playful mischief on his face. “Yes. Have my belongings moved there after Lady Charlotte has finished her bath.”

The words froze on her tongue, then he was gone.

Once the tub was filled and Rose had helped her undress, Charlotte lowered herself into the water. Warmth eased her muscles, stiff from sitting in the coach for days. Rose had scooped up some of the flower petals strewn on the bed and placed them in the water.

As she washed Charlotte’s hair, she chattered away. “I didn’t expect such a fine house and grounds, did you, my lady? Everyone is so pleasant, and they all seem happy to be of service to Mr. and Mrs. Beckham.”

Charlotte barely restrained the snort. “Unlike my brother, you mean.”

“Oh. Please, my lady, I didn’t mean any disrespect. The marquess has high standards, is all.”

“Hmm.” Charlotte closed her eyes, drifting into a sated sense of peace as Rose massaged her scalp. And yet, the house and grounds were as impeccably maintained as her brother’s—without the iron-fisted rule and acid-laced orders. Mr. Beckham governed with kindness.

The tiny voice that had kept her safe for years whispered in her ear.Appearances can deceive.Remain on guard.

Wanting to trust Simon, she’d almost forgotten the sage advice of her inner protector. And still . . . another voice, so quiet she could barely hear it, whispered back.Let him in.Coupled with Honoria’s request, the opposing voice grew stronger.

As the water splashed over her, Charlotte couldn’t help but imagine Simon’s fingers brushing against the sensitive areas of her body. He accused her of being attracted to him, and although she was loath to admit it, truth rang in his words.

She hated the way her stomach flipped when he’d kissed the inside of her wrist. How her fingers itched to test the silkiness of his hair. Hated how she wanted to see if she could make him moan when he kissed her. How that silly grin of his could turn her mind to mush.

Even more, she hated how his family adored him. Teased him. Accepted him for who he was. Hated the love he shared with his family—not because of whathehad, but because it shone a bright light on what she lacked. Hated it because of the envy that grew like a weed in her heart.

Like a dark void, she felt the lack of such love so greatly, tears welled in her eyes. What would it have been like to be a cherished daughter instead of a millstone around her father’s and brother’s necks? To be protected by someone other than herself?

“Did I splash water in your eyes, my lady?” Rose’s voice startled Charlotte from her self-pity.

She brushed the tears away. “It’s fine, Rose.”

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