Page 39 of Pride: The Rogue
“Is there a problem, darlin’?” he drawled.
“None at all,” she said, lying all too easily between her teeth.
He quirked a dark eyebrow. “Don’t you mean not anymore?”
Livian frowned. What was he…?
His grin widened. “That is, now that you aren’t touching me?”
“I wasn’t touching you,” she muttered, her cheeks ablaze. “Or I was, but—”
Amusement sparked in Lachlan’s eyes.
“Notthatway!” Livia exclaimed.
Her unlikely tablemate gave her a peculiar look. “Which way is that, Livian Lovelace?”
“Inappropriately.” Her cheeks went several shades warmer.
Availing himself again of her tankard of milk, the bounder helped himself to another sip. “And you feel that needs clarification, darlin’?” he asked, setting the mug near her.
She ignored it. “At the very least, it seemed important to point out that detail,Lachlan Latimer.”
Lachlan rested his palms on the table, framing either side of her leather tome. “And do you know why that is, Livian?”
Unnerved at his proximity to her treasured book, she faintly registered that question. She shook her head.
“Because, human nature has proved time and time again, sexual needs supersede anything and everything in a relationship between a man—”
She made a sound of protest, but in hushed tones, he continued over her. “And don’t pretend sweetheart, you and I aren’t both well aware of our response to one another.”
His gaze locked on her mouth, and a flash of desire darkened his eyes, leaving her all warm and weak inside. “I felt your body tremble upstairs, Livian, and I’ve caught the way your lips quiver and your breath catches.”
This man knew all that?
Livian’s hands shook, and she lowered them to her lap to hide their trembling. “It certainly makes sense,” she said regretfully.
“As I said, it’s human nature, darlin’.” He lifted Livian’s tankard and toasted her.
Her face went hot, again. “Not…that.” She motioned to him. “You.”
He paused with her drink halfway to his mouth. “Me?”
She nodded. Between Lachlan Latimer’s charm, boldness, virility and the ease and skill with which he’d handled Livian when he’d thought her a widow, he was a man who knew his way about women and seduction.
“You are a rogue, then,” she said, regretfully.
He snorted. “That’s the conclusion you reached?”
“Are you saying you aren’t a rake, Mr. Latimer?” she shot back.
“Yours would certainly be the first time I’ve ever had that accusation leveled at me.”
“That’s something a rogue would say,” she felt inclined to point out.
Lachlan chuckled. “That’s a fair point, darlin’. Truth is, I’m just a regular street tough, who happened to build a fortune selling sex and sin.”
This man was determined to keep her painted in a blush; this time, heat hit every corner of her body.
