Page 39 of Rose and the Rogue
“You have a beautiful smile,” he said then, dropping all pretense of a casual conversation. “In fact, all of you is beautiful.”
“I’ve been told so.”
“It’s true. However, beauty can conceal some ugly souls.” He lowered his voice, speaking more seriously. “Rosalind, have you ever asked me about my lineage? My title? How many pounds a year I have?”
By the look on her face, she was rather offended at the idea. “You know I have not. Why should any of that matter to me?”
“You asked me instead about what angered me about society. You asked about my life. What I thought. That makes you unique among all the women I’ve known.”
“I…” Rose stopped, and her expression was full of confusion and even pity. “I’m sorry that’s the case, my lord.”
“Well, it is, but it’s made me very glad to have met you, however unconventional the meeting was.” His mind flashed back to the moment he saw her alone on the dance floor, and how his feet were moving toward her even before he’d decided to rescue her.
“It was probably the most exciting night of my life,” she admitted, “which just proves how dull my life is compared to yours.”
“My life’s not as carefree as it appears,” he told her. “But I’m not here to talk about that.”
“What are you here for?”
“For this.”
He gently lowered his mouth to hers, expecting her to freeze in surprise. Then a jolt ran through his body when he grazed her lower lip with his tongue, and all thoughts fled. In place of his careful plans for a few teasing kisses, desire flared up and he prodded her mouth open with his tongue, hungry to taste her.
Rose’s mouth was hot, her response curious and eager. Her tongue slid against his and she let out a soft moan that made his hands shake, there was so much passion in it.
Out of self-preservation, he closed his mouth and laid kisses on her nose and eyelids and cheeks. He moved to her ear, sucking on one lobe.
Rose’s skin burned against his, and he would have her gown off in a minute if he had her truly alone. He heard the rapid beat of her pulse in her neck, and knew that she was just as aroused as he was.
“I thought we were just friends. Do friends kiss like this?” she asked breathlessly.
“If they did, the world would be a much friendlier place,” he returned, his heart strangely warm. “And in case it’s not clear by now, I intend for us to be much more than friends.”
“What do you intend, my lord?” she asked, pulling her head away a few inches, sounding more cautious, back to the society miss whose whole existence hinged on her suitors’ intentions.
“Nothing evil,” he assured her.
“Says the rake and rogue.”
“Rose, I know you shouldn’t trust me. Not yet. But do you believe me when I say that I need to meet you again?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, her voice full of wariness, but also interest.
“We don’t have much time,” he noted before catching her chin in his hand, tilting her face up. “Rose, will you let me into your life?”
“I would like to,” she said at last, and he didn’t realize his heart had stopped until she started it again with those words.
“Then it will happen.”
“But I am not entirely free to make that choice,” she reminded him. “Even a quarter hour unobserved is difficult to manage. And I think you’re not exactly beloved by my parents.”
“I’ll find a way,” he promised. “One more kiss, before your chaperone returns and takes you away.” He gathered her into a loose embrace and gave her a kiss designed to stoke more desire instead of satisfying it. At least, that’s what the kiss was doing to him. Rose hummed with pleasure as her mouth sought his own, and his mind reeled at the response that stirred in him. He ran his hand up her back, bringing her in closer, ready for more.
Then a voice called Rose’s name in the distance.
All too quickly, he released her, silently cursing her companion’s devotion.
* * * *
