Page 33 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
“Fifty pounds says Willa and Dom reach twenty-five volleys first,” Finn announced.
Willa rolled her eyes at the fact that her gambling brother had placed a large wager. But at least that wager was in her favor.
“I’m insulted,” Kieran yelled as he and Celeste played.
“And I’m a strategist,” Finn answered.
“I’ll take that wager,” Baron Hunsdon said.
Willa wouldn’t let herself be distracted, keeping all her attention on the shuttlecock soaring back and forth between her and Dom. It was damn satisfying to hit the projectile, watch it fly, and then see Dom also make contact with it. As they did, she counted under her breath, her excitement growing with each successful volley.
Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.
She heard a wail of dismay from Miss Steele, who was teamed up with Gilbert. Clearly, that team wasn’t able to make it to twenty-five. Willa and Dom would surely be the victors.
“Don’t get cocky,” Dom warned lowly as he batted the shuttlecock toward her.
“This from the man who drank brandy straight from the decanter in Lord Davenport’s private study. In front of Lord Davenport.” She swung her racket and hit the projectile—though with a little too much force, so that Dom had to stretch out to connect with the shuttlecock.
Forget being too cocky—she couldn’t let herselfget unfocused by the mouthwatering sight of Dom in motion.
“Why put the liquor out if you don’t want your guests to drink it?” he asked, hardly winded by his effort.
Twenty-three. Twenty-four.
“That’s twenty-five,” she cried as she hit the projectile.
“There’s my girl.” Dom grabbed the shuttlecock out of the air and smiled at her, revealing the minuscule dimple just beside the corner of his mouth, and sending her already thudding heart to pound even harder.
“Damn it,” Baron Hunsdon said, and handed Finn several pound notes.
“Sing! Sing! Sing!” the other spectators chanted. “‘The Maid’s Complaint for Want of a Dil Doul!’”
Dom glanced at her. “Know the words? It’s a hell of a bawdy song.”
“I went to a school for genteel young ladies,” Willa answered with a sniff. “Of course I know the lyrics.”
That earned her another smile from him, and she had to concentrate to recall the lyrics she’d just insisted she was familiar with.
“At my signal,” she directed him. At his nod, she took a breath, planted her feet, and pointed at him.
Together, at the top of their lungs, they sang:
“For I am a Maid and a very good Maid
and sixteen years of age am I
And fain would I part with my Maiden-head
if any good fellow would with me lie.”
She’d actually never before heard Dom sing, and while her own voice was decent enough—though half yelling a filthy song didn’t truly count as holding a melody—Dom’s voice was...
Was beautiful. A rich, deep baritone with a hint of huskiness that curled beguilingly in her body’s sensitive places. He sang without any hint of self-consciousness, even as the spectators clapped along. Her attention wasn’t on their audience, instead riveted by the sight of this massive, strapping man singing with a voice that would ensorcel anyone.
It also didn’t help her focus that the words unwinding from him were about a girl in desperate need of a lover. The way her own body ached with the hunger for pleasure. Oh, she’d craved another’s touch for many years, but, ever since she’d met him, all of her lustful longings had been directed toward Dom.
Who was looking and sounding bloody good at the moment.
