Page 11 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
Drew’s jaw stiffened, his hand itching to throw a punch. He shook his head in an adamant no, as he tossed down a card, another heart, the knave, and claimed the trick. He forced his shoulders to relax as he leaned forward and slid all the cards towards him.
‘Why not share, you’re hardly the monogamous type,’ Harry said with a smirk.
Drew tidied the cards into a pile, then looked at Harry and Mark. ‘I may not be. However, I require that quality in a wife, and if any of you lay a hand on her…’ his gaze fell on Peter too, ‘I shall call you out.’
They burst out laughing.
Drew did not. It was not a jest.
‘My God, Drew, have you fallen for her?’ Peter charged. He knew Drew too well. They’d known each other since they were six.
Drew pulled a face at him, calling him ridiculous. ‘No. That is hardly my style. I merely do not fancy being done to?—’
‘As you have done to others… Chickens coming home to roost, Fram?’ Harry threw Drew a broad smile.
‘I will not be made a fool.’ He admitted that much.
Let them know he would insist on a faithful wife. He just did not wish them to know how important it was, because that would make him appear weak and vulnerable.
* * *
A week had passed since the Jerseys’ garden party, a week to contemplate her foolishness. Yet no matter how stupid Mary knew it was, she had not ceased looking for Lord Framlington at every event. Her traitorous body refused to heed the frequent warnings of her conscience and her common sense.
As she walked into the crush of another ballroom, on her father’s arm, her eyes immediately identified her heart’s quarry.
He stood in the far corner, with his elbow on a marble bust, leaning forward and speaking with a beautiful blonde woman, the Marquis of Kilbride’s wife. Mary’s heart sank and she looked away before Lord Framlington felt her observation as he always did.
John is right.She had told herself so a thousand times in the last few days, and yet even as she said it her mischievous mind recalled the press of his lips and the feel of his hand cradling her breast.
Heat spread across her skin and awareness prickled along her nerves.
Why am I so attracted to him?This emotion never clawed at her when she looked at other men, and she had danced with dozens. It was just Lord Framlington her heart and body craved.
Ninny!her common sense screamed. But her senses still whispered Lord Framlington’s nearness.
He walked past without looking at her, barely feet away, as if he knew his proximity made her senses sing.
Mary held her father’s arm more firmly.I will overcome this attraction.There must be some man she could feel as much for. A man who did not have a wicked streak. Who she could trust not to treat her badly.
‘Miss Marlow, I would be extremely honoured if you will allow me this dance.’
Mary turned and faced Mr Gerard Heathcote, one of her devoted admirers. He bowed deeply. He was a wealthy merchant’s son who had courted her last season. Her family liked him. He was charming, in a genteel way.
He made her an offer last season. She had refused, saying it was too soon to settle on a husband. But that had been kindness. He was good-natured, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. But her heart craved dark brown locks and laughing brown eyes with a wicked glint.
However, Gerard was a good dancer and he’d become a friend, as had many of her beaux. But none of them were anything more. She felt nothing beyond like.
Mary swallowed back her growing impatience, letting go of her father’s arm. She offered her hand and Gerard drew her away. Usually she enjoyed dancing, but tonight it was one endless boring whirl.
When did I become jaded?
Since the rogue kissed me, she answered her thought.
From this moment on, unless Lord Framlington kissed her again her life would be dull.
* * *
Arms folded across his chest, with one hand loose, the stem of his wine glass dangling between his fingers, Drew watched the dance floor.
