Page 83 of Pride: The Rogue
He is keeping his distance from me. He’s making sure we’re no longer alone…
To Lachlan, she remained nothing more than a vexatious chore he happened to pick up last evening.
What should you be?A voice in her head needled. Despite the way in which the world had been tipped off its axis for her, the fact still remained, she was nothing to him. They each had their own lives, and at the end of this surreal interlude, she’d meet her husband, he’d have his new business, and they’d each only harbor the memory of what’d passed here…
Not they.
Livian. Livian, would.
And Livian, even for the hardships she’d faced throughout life, had never felt more miserable…
Chapter 14
Latimer should have left.
He should’ve taken his arse the rest of the way to the Duchess of Argyll’s and gotten on with the business of a betrothal, a marriage, and the ultimate prize—ownership of his newest club, The Devil’s Den.
But he hadn’t done any of those things.
Instead, he sat at the same table, in in the same taproom of the same inn where he and Livian Lovelace spent last evening alone, speaking.
Only, this time, he had an entire tap room of the same drunken villagers for company.
Tankard in hand, Latimer considered the stairs leading to the rooms above. When he’d instructed Caleb to keep an eye on his mistress, Latimer anticipated a show of defiance and fury. He had anticipated not only would Livian defy Latimer’s instructions within an instant of being back at the old inn, but that she would set herself up in the tap room.
At which point, she would’ve of course found him seated there, just as he’d been since he returned from the old, muddy road. And just as he’d been for the rest of the damn day and now night, reliving the unbridled way she’d ridden his leg and fingers, and called his name.
Since he’d parted ways with the innocent temptress, he’d had a massive cock-stand that wouldn’t quit. No, if anything, his erection grew more violent and painful with every passing minute and thought of her.
Which made it all for the best that they didn’t cross paths again.
Wonder of wonders, in steering clear of him, the spirited chit proved to have a brain in her head after all.
Latimer gave his head a rueful shake. He should be pleased as a pig in dung.
He took a swig of ale.
But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge, he kinda hoped to find her down here.
She…
“Some fancy lord’s sister she is, Felchin says, anyway.” A patron’s words cut through Latimer’s ruminations and were followed by protestations from another fellow.
Latimer went stock-still.
“…not a sister, Toms,” one man was saying. “Believe he said sister-in-law…”
Livian.
All his attention snapped on high alert.
A third fellow piped in. “You fools; she’s not a young miss.”
At being questioned,Tomsbristled with annoyance. “Aint’ old, either, Scott.”
“Ain’t my point,” Scott said, like a wizened elder counseling the young. “With the way she looks and dresses, if she’s an earl’s sister or sister-in-law, she’d be married.”
The purveyor of information managed to silence the previously confident lot.
