Page 48 of Rose and the Rogue
“In a manner of speaking. Actually, I drove you to my home. Care to come in?”
Rose inhaled. This was an invitation to ruin. Spending a night with a man, without any oversight whatsoever? She’d never be allowed among society again.
“Or I can drive you to your house,” Adrian went on. “Drop you off at the door, and you go in, no one the wiser. Up to you, Rose.”
Rose felt multiple futures spreading out before her, and in a flash she knew which way she chose to take. She put her hand out once more, allowing Adrian to take it.
“Thank you,” she said. “I would like to come in.”
Chapter 17
Rose took an unsteady breath as Adrian helped her from the carriage. Her heartbeat was already rising, just thinking about the incredible risk she was taking.
Adrian ran his fingers along her arm, which was covered in the cashmere wrap. “I’m glad you wore it.”
“Well, you told me to.”
“No, I suggested it because I thought you might like it, and you should have things you can enjoy. But you certainly didn’t have to wear it.”
She sensed Adrian’s presence then, and his unique combination of sandalwood and spices. His arms embraced her, surrounding her with warmth.
Rosalind reveled in the feeling, but tried to keep some sense about her. “I thought we were going inside your lair, I mean, your house?”
“Yes, indeed. This way to my lair.” He put an arm to her elbow and guided her up steps, estimating the count to the stairs leading to his door.
Once inside, Rose felt the enfolding silence of the place.
“Servants have been given the night off,” he explained. “Not that they’d mention anything if they were here, but everyone deserves time off now and again.”
“Adrian, are you sure about this? It’s not exactly a revelation that I’m an unmarried woman, and thus should not be alone with you, or any man, ever—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Trust me. I’ve arranged it all. No one saw me drive the carriage, or rather no one would recognize me. A friend of mine will vow that I’m somewhere else at this moment, if need be.”
“But I’ve been discouraged from even talking with you.”
“Ironic. Now that I finally decide I want to rejoin polite society, they throw obstacles in my path.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shush, Rose, we don’t have much time.”
“Time for what?”
“For this.” He leaned forward to kiss her. Rosalind was beguiled anew by the sensations. She might be every time he touched her. He seemed hellbent on distracting her from asking any more questions, for he was tantalizing her with his hands and mouth.
“What are you planning to do?” she whispered when she thought to speak.
“Well, first I’m going to ask you for a favor.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“Would you sing for me?”
Rose assumed she misheard. “Excuse me? You spirited me away for a concert?” And here she’d thought he intended to ravish her. (Not to mention that she was rather hoping he would.)
“I can’t get your voice out of my head,” he told her. “I was hoping you’d take pity on me and let me hear it again.”
“Perform a song, here in your house?”
