Page 30 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
“Does it hurt?”
“Nah—my skin’s too thick, but I’ve ruined the sodding silk.” He tried once more to get the needle through the fabric properly. Yet he must havestabbed himself again because another drop of blood stained the silk. “Goddamn it.”
He surged to his feet and tossed the embroidery hoop to the ground, then stalked to the fireplace. “To hell with this.”
She followed, and when he glowered into the flames, she stared at him.
“Don’t quit.” When the words left her, she heard how much urgency there was behind them. Almost a plea.
He plucked the cheroot from her grasp and took a long draw from it before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, then gave the tobacco back to her.
Holding up his hands, he growled, “You don’t know what it’s like to live with these.”
“I can’t,” she said, almost desperate, “if you don’t tell me.”
He only shook his head. Keeping his silence.
They both held tightly to their secrets. As they stood together at the fire, it was clear that neither would relinquish their hold on them. But if the poison wasn’t released, it had the potential to destroy her and Dom from the inside out.
Chapter 10
“Don’t ingest too much,” Longbridge sang, coming into the breakfast room, where Dom and the other guests were eating their morning meal.
Dom sat at one end of the table, Willa at the other. They’d given each other distance today, and he cursed himself. He was never afraid, not of any damned thing, but the cost of that was having all the subtlety and caution of a beast. With her, at least, he couldtryto not be a brute. So, he’d been polite but distant today.
At least he’d slept well in his massive, plush bed in his sumptuous, dry room. He had her to thank for that.
“I have a very vigorous activity planned for after we finish here,” Longbridge went on. “And don’t look at me like that, Ransome, because while I may be dissolute, I’m notthatfar gone.”
“No orgies on the lawn?” Kieran said with obvious disappointment.
“Your skin is very fair, my love,” Celeste replied, patting his hand. “We wouldn’t want to run the risk of you burning in the sun. But,” she continued consolingly, “we can arrange for something suitably well shaded later.”
“Good Christ.” Dom clapped his hands over his ears. “Have a care for your brother’s nerves.”
“The same nerves that were utterly unbothered when you and my brothers attempted to steal Lord Caulfield’s painting?” Willa asked dryly.
Dom couldn’t stop himself from grinning. That had been the night he had finally met the Ransome brothers’ sister, having heard much about her from his friends. They had attended an exceptionally boring ball filled with the same nattering dullards and had challenged each other to nick a particularly luscious nude from their host’s study.
“You were equally steely when you found us,” he pointed out to Willa, “and diverted the staff’s attention to the kitchen, just as we were on the verge of getting caught. Cool as winter, you were.”
Willa gave a careless shrug, but her lips quirked in a tiny, self-satisfied smile. “And then you returned the favor by backing me later.”
“Course I did,” he answered at once. “Those nob fools didn’t realize who they were dealing with, insisting that you couldn’t outshoot any one of the bucks.”
“You hadn’t even seen me shoot,” she pointed out.
“I knew you could do anything.”
He and Willa stared at each other, smiling with warmth, and he was brought back to that night, the night when everything had changed. She’d been full of courage and vitality, determined to meet the world head-on, and damn anyone who got in her way.
She still had courage and vitality—but he was glimpsing more beneath that steely surface. And the more he saw, the more he wanted to know. But he didn’t have the sodding right to any of it, not after jilting her.
The trouble was, he couldn’t stop himself from going back to her again and again. She drew him in with undeniable force. Yesterday had proven that—had, in fact, made it even harder to resist her. He’d loved feeding her the wild berries that he’d foraged for her, and watching her smoke a cheroot might’ve been the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life.
He’d also seen the way she’d ogled his hands. Or the sound she’d made when he’d put on his spectacles. He used to resent that he sometimes needed them, but if he could have Willa look at him like a savory pie, fresh from the oven, well, he’d wear them as often as she wanted.
“Then Lady Willa has a chance at being today’s victor,” Longbridge said.
