Page 7 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
To the horror of her parents, also in attendance, she’d stood in the middle of the Academy exhibition hall and clapped loudly.Bravo, gentlemen, she’d said resoundingly.Naked women and men at war. You’ve shown us that you’re as limited in your imagination as you are in talent.
Stunned, silent shock had followed. All but for Dom, who’d stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Loudly.
She’d adored that about him, how brash he was,always ready to show the nobs that he might walk amongst them, but he never desired to beone of them. In that way, he was perfect for her.
And yet, hearing him encourage her now brought a rush of hot stickiness to her eyes. As if... she craved support. Not just anyone’s support, buthis.
She blinked the dampness in her eyes away. There was nothing he could give her that she wanted.
“Fine,” she said as icily as she could manage. “If there’s one thing we agree upon, it is that we’re to avoid being near one another for as long as we possibly can. No matter what my brothers want, we don’t have to speak to each other.”
He gave a clipped nod. At that little gesture, her heart sank. Only then did she realize that part of her still hoped that he would fight for them to remain together. Yet, just like before, all he did was run away from her.
Chapter 3
Dom had never been a soldier, but he’d heard stories in taverns and on the docks. Tales of battlefield horrors. Of men losing vital parts of their bodies to explosions and other sword strikes, but taking far too long to actually die.
Now he knew that he could watch his heart be ripped right out of his chest. Yet he continued to walk and breathe, and, worst of all, feel.
Tabitha and Celeste huddled around a stiff-shouldered Willa, offering sympathy and listening ears.
Dom had clung to some hazy wish. A wish that his former fiancée wasn’t completely disgusted by him, or perhaps—and this was an even slimmer hope—that she’d have forgiven him for what he’d done.
But he didn’t merit her forgiveness. He never did and never would, and living through this agonizing pain that should have, by rights, killed him, was precisely what he deserved.
Kieran and Finn approached.
“Wise you’re being chary about coming near me,” Dom muttered. “I’m at least two stone heavier than you, Kieran, and four inches taller than you, beanpole Finn.”
“And we’ve fought you in the boxing ring.” Kieran fingered his jaw. “Your right uppercut nearly knocked me into the twentieth century.”
Dom stalked away from them, into the hallway. He passed three guests tossing a globe back and forth as they cavorted along the corridor.
“You were damned stupid,” Dom growled at Finn and Kieran, who followed him.
The brothers exchanged a glance, which they often did in the silent communication of close siblings.
“We know this can work,” Finn said. “We’ve no intention of hurting you.”
Dom said, curt, “You’ve hurther.”
The flying globe hurtled toward Dom. He snatched it out of the air before it could hit him, and threw it back to one of the gentlemen. The man caught it, but winced from the force of Dom’s throw. Laughing and cheering, the group scampered down the hallway.
One of the women nearly collided with Willa, just as Willa was coming out of the parlor. The lady skidded to a stop, and then carefully edged her way past Willa, who looked annoyed.
Yet when Willa looked at him farther down thecorridor, her dark eyes gleamed with fury, and her arms crossed protectively over her chest. Her chin came up.
That was good. Better for her to be angry with him than heartbroken. She was always so full of force and determination, and it would have deepened his own self-hatred to see that he’d made her wretched.
“Perhaps,” Kieran suggested slowly, “thiscouldbe an opportunity. To gain the resolution you both seem to need.”
Finn began, “Tabitha and I learned that if we talk with each other—”
A harsh bark of laughter escaped Dom, causing Willa to throw him a hard look before striding briskly away. Even when she wasn’t full of fury, she wasn’t the sort of woman to softly glide from one place to the next, preferring to move with directness and purpose rather than appear a delicate blossom drifting on a breeze.
In motion, her spine was upright, and her hips moved from side to side, drawing his gaze to her ripe shape. When they’d been courting, he hadn’t permitted himself more than a quick graze of his fingers along those curves. God, how he’d wanted to, though. He’d wanted to grip her round bottom and press her into him because whenever he’d been near her, he’d been hard and aching and so full of desire for this hurricane of a woman, so unlike anyone he’d ever met.
But he hadn’t allowed himself that liberty. For all his family’s new blunt, he was a longshoreman and she was an earl’s daughter, always far above him.
