Page 11 of Her Rogue to Kiss Good Morning
She was being a bit churlish.How was this going to get her what she truly wanted?She had to be more coy and far more alluring.What man wanted a shrew in his bed?Though he did still seem interested.Perhaps this sparring did something for him.Clara sighed.“You’re the one being rude by denying me what we both know is mine.”
“I think we already determined it isn’t truly yours…” His lips twitched again.
Clara closed her eyes and shook her head.None of this was working for her.So instead, she decided it was time to stop asking.Perhaps he needed a little demonstration.Slowly, she untied the bow around her waist and let her dressing robe fall open.Her nightrail still covered her thin shift so he couldn’t see much, but if she let the dressing robe fall to the floor then he would still get an eyeful.
The dressing-robe slipped from Clara’s shoulders with a silken whisper and pooled at her feet.The thin muslin of her night-rail still shielded her modesty, but it was a shield in name only; the firelight turned the fabric to mist and bathed her figure in a soft glow.Heat rose to her cheeks even as she lifted her chin, daring him to look, daring him to betray the composure he wore like armor.
His hand stilled on the book’s cover.A muscle in his jaw ticked.“Lady Cocwood…” His voice was low, a warning and a plea entwined.The huskiness in his tone gave her courage to go forward with her plan.She had him exactly as she wanted him—in her thrall.Clara had never felt so powerful before.
She arched a brow, forcing her tone into something cool and arch when her pulse was anything but.“Are you at a loss for words, my lord?How novel.”The corners of her lips twitched as she fought the triumphant smile.It was a wonderful feeling to bring this man figuratively to his knees.
“I had not thought to find you…” He cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to hers before tore his gaze away and stared at the fire.“So determined.”
Clara took a step nearer, every nerve in her body alight.This was not the demure widow society thought she was; this was the woman she had fought to become—one who would choose her own fate.“I am not in the habit of being denied,” she murmured.At least not anymore… Those were words she left unspoken though.She had been denied more than she would like to admit in her short lifetime.
He swallowed hard as he slowly turned to meet her gaze, his fingers tightening around the book as though it were an anchor.“You test me, my lady.”
“Do I?”she asked softly, tilting her head.“I only wished for my book.”
For a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the mantel clock and the crackle of the fire.Then, very deliberately, he set the book aside.His gaze at last met hers, dark and hungry and unguarded.She had wanted power over him.She had wanted to prove she could tempt without being tempted.But as his eyes lingered on her, she felt her breath catch and realized, with a sudden clarity, that she was playing a dangerous game.One she might already be losing.She had chosen tonight to take what she wanted.She only prayed she still knew what that was.
“Is the book what you truly want, my lady?”he asked in a husky tone.“Or perhaps it is something else you want instead…” His voice trailed off as he stood and moved toward her.There was still some distance between them, but it wouldn’t take much to close it.All she had to do was take a few more steps and she could put her hands on his chest.If she were brave enough, she could also press her lips to his.What would he taste like?Suddenly she wanted to know more than anything.
The moment was charged before it even began, a delicate tension that made Clara’s pulse quicken in a way she had not felt in years.She took those last steps until she was right in front of him.Lord Oakwood leaned closer, his dark eyes shimmering with a mixture of mischief and something far deeper.A hint of desire filled his gaze, and she was tempted to acknowledge it.She drew in a breath to steady herself, though every instinct screamed to give in, she still harbored some doubts.
Then, almost imperceptibly, his hand brushed against hers—light, casual.It was deliberate enough that it sent shivers down her spine.Clara’s heart leapt as he lowered his face toward hers.The scent of him—rich sandalwood and the faint trace of mint—mingled with the warmth of the library.It made her senses keenly aware of every detail and every single one of her needs.
His lips met hers softly at first, a tentative brush suggesting he was testing her.Yet it was enough to ignite a fire she had tried so desperately to suppress every time she was near him.He deepened the kiss.It was gentle but insistent, a promise and a challenge all at once.Clara’s hands trembled, her fingers flexing against his shirt as she felt a thrill of both fear and exhilaration.
It was not a reckless kiss.It was deliberate, intimate, a quiet declaration of the attraction that had simmered beneath their barbed exchanges.Every doubt, every careful restraint melted away as she allowed herself, for just one moment, to surrender to the sensation.She reveled in the closeness of him and to the soft pressure of his lips against hers.The heat of the longing that mirrored her own...
When they finally parted, even slightly, the air between them remained heavy and filled with unspoken words and the promise of more.Clara’s breath caught, and she drew back just enough to meet his gaze.They both seemed to silently acknowledge that nothing would ever be quite the same again.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear, and said, “My darling, I think perhaps we have some things to discuss.”
Indeed, they did… “Perhaps you are right, Lord Oakwood,” she conceded.
“Grant,” he said in a hoarse tone.“Use my given name, my lovely Clara.I am sure we will be far more intimate before the night is through.”
So arrogant, but she could not find fault with his assessment.So, she would allow him this liberty.Especially as she intended to afford him many more.“Very well, Grant,” she said as she tested the sound of his name on her tongue.“I will allow you to use my name.”She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.“As to that conversation…”
“What about it?”
“Perhaps we can finish it in my bedchamber…”
He grinned but didn’t say a word.Instead, he entwined his hand in hers and led her from the library.She didn’t bother to retrieve that book.She had no need for it now.Clara had other plans for her night, and she had a feeling sleep would not be on the top of that list.
Eight
Grant’s pulse thrummed with a heady mixture of anticipation and disbelief as he walked with Clara down the quiet corridor of Sinbrough House, his hand still entwined with hers.The warmth of her touch seemed to set fire through his veins, and yet he dared not let his expression betray the storm of longing that threatened to spill from him.
She had invited him here, into the private sanctuary of her bedchamber, to continue their discussion.The very idea sent a shiver of hope through him.He believed this would be far more than a mere conversation between them.It would be a night neither of them would soon forget and he allowed himself to imagine what would happen behind the closed doors of her bedchamber.Would she allow him to show her how much she had come to mean to him?Did this invitation mean that she wished to spend the night with him?He prayed he was not reading her all wrong and misinterpreting the delicate brush of her fingers against his.He wanted this invitation to be something far more than she might intend it to be.
Even with the uncertainty that coarsed through his veins, one thing remained certain to him.Clara was it for him.The very thought of her…her wit, her fire, her quiet strength… All of it had ensnared his heart in ways he had never known possible.He had never been more certain of anything in his life.Every other affection, every flirtation or dalliance, had been mere shadows compared to the brightness she had brought into his world.
As they reached her door, he drew a careful breath, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss to her knuckles before speaking.“Clara,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “I intend to be entirely honest with you tonight.”
“I would expect nothing less,” she told him.Then she opened the door and gestured for him to go inside.“Please join me, Lord Oakwood.”
