Page 52 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
Ice flooded his muscles. If Willa’s brother had seen the way Dom and Willa had beenthis closeto making love... then it was only a matter of moments before Kieran punched Dom in the face. Even poets could be pushed to violence if their sisters were involved.
“Celeste and I were just heading up to our bedchamber from the conservatory after...” Kieran cleared his throat, and Dom was grateful his friend didn’t finish that sentence. “Never mind. But we both saw you and Willa coming up the stairs, back from the beach.”
Dom exhaled. Thank God Kieran had only seen them returning from the shore.
“We’d gone for a walk,” Dom explained gruffly.
Kieran stuck his hands in his pockets as he regarded Dom with interest. “How fascinating.”
“Nothingfascinatingabout it,” Dom said, dour. “Just two people walking next to the water. It happens all the time.”
“Exceptthesetwo people used to be engaged, and things between them appear to be thawing.Arethey thawing?”
Dom blew out a breath. “Hell if I know. We go forward, and then back, and it’s a bloody confusing dance.”
“Does she know the steps?”
“We’re both lost,” Dom admitted. “How to go onward, I’ve no fucking idea.”
Everything was so sodding confusing, except for the fact that he couldn’t stay away from Willa. And he wasn’t sure she wanted him to stay away.
“I see.” Kieran stared at the space over Dom’s shoulder, looking into nothingness, but seeing something, because a pleat of thought creased between his eyebrows.
Dom didn’t trust that look on his friend’s face—not by a mile.
“Well,” Kieran said brightly and abruptly, “I’m certain some kind of answer will present itself. All we need is faith in the movement of the celestial spheres.”
Dubious, Dom said, “The celestial spheres aren’t the only things that are spinning.”
“Prepare yourselves for delight,” Longbridge announced. He strode into the parlor where most of the guests—Dom included—had gathered to read or write in their diaries or sketch or whatever the hell it was nobs did when they were trying to fill the long, empty hours of their days.
Dom himself was attempting to readPersuasion, and, as engrossing as the novel was, his attention kept drifting from the book to across the room, where Willa was bent over a small desk, frowning over something she was writing in a clothboundjournal. No doubt recording for posterity what a ruddy confusing mess everything had become.
Sunlight through the open curtains gilded the tender line of her neck, illuminating all the soft, downy hair that curled up from her nape.
He gripped his book tighter, but the feel of its pages was no substitute for touching her, and the scent of the paper and leather couldn’t compare to the fragrance that rose up from her flesh.
Dom knewexactlywhat she smelled like because he’d inhaled her deeply as they’d kissed on the beach. And he craved more of her scent and the feel of her and her taste... all things he shouldn’t desire.
She looked up now at Longbridge’s entrance, and her frown deepened when a sturdy footman trailed after their host, carrying a large wooden trunk.
Dom fought the urge to roll his eyes. Longbridge was doing his best to be hospitable and attend to his guests’ entertainment, but, my God, could there beonemoment when there was nothing to do but sit and brood? Dom had a lot of brooding to do. He was actually something of an expert in it.
At his employer’s signal, the servant set the trunk down and opened it.
Longbridge plunged his hand into the trunk and lifted out what appeared to be a toga. “For you, my dearest guests.”
“An orgy?” Kieran asked excitedly from his place beside Celeste on the sofa.
His wife patted his hand. “Always hoping. That’s what I love about you.”
“I cannot vouch for what happens afterward,” Longbridge said, now pulling out a sword made of paper, “but before that, we’ll disport ourselves marvelously with some amateur theatricals.”
A round of applause went up from the guests, though Dom noticed that Willa halfheartedly added to the clapping. He himself kept his hands occupied by holding his book.
Amateur theatricals seemed a bloody odd thing to do, but then again, they’d done something similar inMansfield Park. Although that had turned out to be a disaster for everyone involved.
The orange tabby cat that occasionally showed up to lounge beside the fire decided that these activities were simply too much for its peace of mind, and quickly left the room. It surely knew better than any of the humans.
