Page 37 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“I’m sure you’re aware my brother is far more worried about our not-quite-spotless name—at least protecting it from further tarnish—than protecting me from a ghoul or two lurking about after dark.”
“It’s not the blasted ghouls that concern me.” He sounded gruff and grouchy and all–too appealing. “In any case, we should see to getting some food in our bellies. I know of a quiet café—not nearly as posh as a countess’s drawing room, but the cook knows what he’s about and the company is good.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Ye’re certain?” His forehead furrowed. “If ye’re disappointed about the countess’s gathering, we can make an appearance. Unfashionably late or not.”
“Disappointed?” She eyed him skeptically. “Surely you know that is not the case.”
“I suspected as much.” A smile played on his mouth. “But ye found my effort gentlemanly, did ye not?”
“Even Sir Lancelot could not have appeared more gallant.”
“Ah, so I’m in good company,” he said, then called up to Reggie, alerting the driver to their change of destination—the Rogue’s Respite.
“A café for rogues?” Macie arched a brow.
“Seems appropriate, does it not?” The slightest of grins quirked one corner of his mouth.
“Quite so,” she agreed.
He leaned back against the upholstery, appearing relaxed for the first time that night. “Ye’ll like it, lass. Besides, there’s someone I’d like ye to meet.”
“I simply must seek out a chat with Lady Yarbury. I’ve heard she is quite fascinating. Each month, on the night of the full moon, she invites a medium to conduct a seance. I’d relish the opportunity to set up my camera and capture the scene.”
“Full moon, eh?” His brows hiked. “Does the medium intend to summon a wulver?”
“A Scottish wolf-man?” Macie could not help but smile. “I suppose he might be wearing a kilt.”
“All the better to accommodate his tail,” he said in mock seriousness. Amusement gleamed in his eyes. Now that was the Finn she knew.
“If such a creature would put in an appearance, I would like to make its portrait. Sadly, I doubt it would cooperate long enough to pose.”
“Ah, that’s where ye’re wrong.” A grin played on his mouth. “Any self-respecting Scot would savor the opportunity to spend his night with a lovely woman.”
“Including you?” she teased as the carriage slowed.
“Ye already know the answer, lass.” His eyes flashed with the same cockiness that flavored his husky voice. Why did she find his brash confidence so very appealing?
The driver brought the coach to a stop before a quaint café on a pleasantly quiet street. A light fog had descended upon the city.As Finn escorted her from the coach, gaslight filtered through the haze, casting golden light over his chiseled features.
My, the man could certainly conjure a delicious dream or two. Decidedly improper dreams, to be sure. Her eyes drank in his strong chin. His full mouth.Oh, his kiss would be so very, very tempting.
One kiss would never be enough.
Macie let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Putting on an act was one thing. But dreaming of his caress—while fully awake, no less—was a recipe for disaster. She would be in over her head before she knew it. The peculiar longing in the region of her heart was all the proof she needed. Giving in to temptation would be far too dangerous. Definitely a chance she could not take.
Or would the surrender be worth every moment of risk?
*
Savoring a fineScotch, Finn drank in the quiet of Logan MacLain’s latest venture, a café MacLain had aptly dubbed the Rogue’s Respite. Gaslight cast a subtle ambiance on the deep-brown woods and leather décor while a lone pianist played with a light touch, enhancing the relaxed atmosphere. Seated across from him, Macie nibbled on finger-sized watercress sandwiches. Meeting his gaze, Macie’s mouth curved into a subtle smile. Serene, for all to see.
But Finn knew better.
Despite the years and distance that had separated them, he could still read the subtle hints of tension. The slight narrowing of her eyes. The thinning of her lips. The light tap of her finger against the tabletop. Deep inside, Macie was anything but calm.Anything but at ease. Had the discovery of an intruder at the old house shaken her more than she wished to let on?
He leaned back against the plush upholstered chair, catching sight of Logan and his wife as they strolled into the café. Logan nodded a silent greeting before heading to the immense oak bar, while Amelia MacLain hurried to their table. Her warmth shone bright in her eyes. Logan was a lucky man. Bloody lucky, indeed.
