Page 70 of Teach a Rogue New Tricks
“It’s what men do,” she said with a grunt. “Judge women for the sins everyone forgives them for. They are not even considered sins whenyoudo them.”
His eyes glinted danger. “Who has judged you?”
Suddenly, she felt the lateness of the day, how very packed-full of emotion the last week, had been. She leaned into his tall, strong body. “The man I slept with—Lucas—his father died two summers ago. We had never been close, but we knew each other growing up.” He likely did not want the details, but she needed to speak them aloud. She had told no one, but now she had two options—let the words tumble from her lips or let them rot her insides. “The night his father died, Lucas escaped the house and wandered out into the hills. I found him sleeping under a tree the next morning on my daily walk. His heart hurt. He needed a friend. I became that friend. The night after his father’s will was read, he snuck into my bedroom. I awoke to find him sitting next to me on my bed. He sought solace. I gave it to him. I thought I wished to marry him, then. He told me before we … well, you know … that wewouldmarry. It wasn’t a question, but I offered no confirmation.”
Cass rested his chin on the top of her head. “Was he… gentle with you?”
Ada nodded.
“But you felt… trapped after that.”
She nodded again.
He sighed. “I’ll not trap you, Ada Cavendish.” He wrapped his hands around her elbows and pushed her out to arm’s length. “You gave yourself to heal a man. Would you accept the same in return?”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Let me give myself to you tonight. Let me worship you. Let me give you pleasure with no expectation of anything in return.”
“Not even—”
“Marriage? No. Not even that.”
“Why?”
“Because I think I need to stop being a selfish bastard. It doesn’t matter how many notebooks full of my good deeds I keep or how many charities I fund or how much I impress my brother. If I’m always putting myself first, I’ll never step out of my past. And because you give so damned much to other people. Your family. This Lucas. Me. Let me give you something just for you.”
She should say no.
She fisted his shirt in her hands, dragged him down to her, and kissed him, a soft press of lips that shivered her from head to toe. “You promise? No expectations?”
“None.” He nipped her bottom lip and pressed his thumbs into the hollows behind her ears. “Except that you will be absolutely and utterly sated when I’m done with you.”
She shivered. “Take me upstairs.”
He clasped her hand and tugged her into the house. He pulled her down the hall, and they ran on tiptoe, side by side, until he slid to a stop, opened a door, and pulled her through.
Chapter Nineteen
Cassclosed the door of his bedroom softly behind him and watched as Ada sailed into the moonlight, her gaze lighting on every detail—the mostly barren bookshelves, the tables without mementos, the tidy bed. It could be the room of an inn, completely without personalization though he’d lived in it for over a month.
He opened his mouth to flirt. “I don’t know who I am, quite, anymore.” He did not expect to saythat.
She turned around slowly, trying to see him through alternating moonlight and shadow. “You will. I think you’re getting closer.”
He held his arms out wide, gesturing to the room in general. “You would not know any particular man lives here. It’s empty as I am.”
“Shall I help you figure it out?”
“You already have. I feel more myself when I’m with you than I do at any other time.” He cringed. She might think he said the words to keep her with him. He hadn’t. They were true and needed saying.
But they did not seem to bother her. She glided toward him, and when she stood close enough for a kiss, she pressed her face against his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist. Shehuggedhim. And a feeling so large, he’d never be able to name it lodged in his throat, burned behind his eyes.
Viscount Albee, the villain, close to tears. Because of a hug.
No. Becausethiswoman hugged him.
She lifted her face and set the point of her chin on his chest. “If you could fill this room with anything, what would it be? What books on the shelves? What knickknacks? What colors?”
