Page 80 of Pride: The Rogue
The forbidden things Lachlan had done to her would be seared in her soul, mind, and body, forever. But he was still a stranger, and she’d allowed him—nay, begged him—to pleasure her.
What was worse?
She couldn’t bring herself to regret having done so. There seemed to be only an absolute right in her meeting him again, here, at this very spot, that’d halted her journey last night and brought them together.
To Livian, her and Lachlan’s chance encounter had been ordained by the stars. Having him touch her and teach her real passion on this same road that’d brought them into one another’s lives, had been an incontrovertible moment.
Reality, in the form of a sharp, biting winter breeze, came rushing back to greet Livian.
For him, on the other hand, what’d transpired here on this fateful road had been borne of anger, annoyance, and more painfully, his desire to teach her a lesson.
Yet, in this instant, Lachlan ran a hand in slow, soothing circles along the small of her back.
It didn’t make sense.
None of this did.
How could it feel so comfortable, so right, in the arms of a man she barely knew, and also a man with whom she’d shared secrets and parts about her life and past, she’d never revealed to any other soul?
A belated shyness managed to make its way to the surface.
What did one say after a moment such as this? Did a lady simply go about conversing with the man who’d thrown her world upside down, like nothing had happened?
“Miss Lovelaace!”
A young voice piped in the distance.
Bennett Driver!
Bloody hell!
With an ease, skill, and efficiency that bespoke a man who’d found himself in the very position he now found himself with Livian, Lachlan set her away from him. In short order, he smoothed her skirts, rearranged her hair, and tidied his own rumpled garments.
“Miiiiiiis Lovelaaaace!”
Unable to meet Lachlan’s eyes, Livian cupped her hands around her mouth. “I’m h-here!”
“A lad,” he groused. Giving his head a disgusted shake. “Thisis who you think is going to protect you.”
“Ah, but you know as much as I do, Lachlan, regardless of age, no one who had to live in the ruthless streets of London is, or ever was, really a child.” Striving for a calm she didn’t feel, Livian managed to somehow draw her lips up in a smile. “Despite your earlier annoyance and name calling, Lachlan, I was never really alone.”
“Oh, no, sweetheart?” He cast a lewd glance up and down Livian’s person, one that somehow cheapened what they’d done. “What about when I had you pinned against the carriage and riding my leg.”
Her heart quivered.
No, his coarseness proved it’d only mattered to Livian.
“You are h-horrid,” she said quietly, hating the tell-tale tremble of her voice.
His expression darkened. “I never proclaimed to be a gentleman. You’re just the one who keeps insisting I am.”
Pain lanced through Livian’s heart.
She stared blankly at this man who’d brought her body to exquisite heights and showed her true passion.
Why is he saying these things? Why is he behaving this way?
He clearly sought to shock her; to remind her of his badness.
