Who Wants a Brawling Baron: Romancing the Rake

by Tammy Andresen

  He shook his head. “Good, I would wager. They are likely in love.” His tone held a bitter note that caught her ear.

  “You don’t believe in love?” She found herself once again drifting closer.

  He held up a hand, which stopped her movement forward. But the brush of his fingers on her arm also sent a shower of shivers down her skin. He stroked along the flesh. Other than their dance when he’d held her waist in a firm grip, he’d never touched her like this. She pulsed with excitement at the light caress. “I do.”

  That was surprising. “Really? I’d have thought you more the cynical type.”

  “Oh, I’m terribly cynical. At least when it comes to myself. But I have a friend and she could use some help and a real chance at love.”

  A friend? She? Jealousy flitted through her stomach, making her curl in a bit. “What sort of help?”

  He brushed his fingers down the length of her sleeve. “Invitations. Introductions. The sort a marquess’ sister might provide.”

  Charlie paused. “You want me to help your friend find a husband?”

  “I do,” he answered. “As an unmarried man, I’m ill-suited to the task.”

  Charlie shook her head. “I don’t know anything about her.”

  Balstead stepped closer. “She’s a lady and a widow. Her husband left her…vulnerable. She needs help.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sympathetic but—”

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. About men or—”

  She stilled. This was getting interesting. “You’ll tell me all about rakes?”

  She heard him pause. Were his molars grinding together? “Yes.”

  This should be fun. And she didn’t mind helping his friend. Both activities would be a lovely diversion to fill the long, lazy summer ahead. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Raithe looked down at the woman who sparkled in the moonlight. Her skin glowed and her eyes looked like pale emeralds. Damn it, but he wanted to kiss her. Drink from those delightful lips.

  Which was why he’d been avoiding this woman for months. He liked her fiery nature, her classic beauty, her effortless charm.

  And it was a devil’s deal he made now, educating an innocent on rakes. He’d have to spend time with her, talk on illicit subjects. He closed his eyes for a moment. The whole thing was…mad. And intoxicating.

  Part of him liked the delicious torture she presented. He’d never touch her, of course. That would mean marriage for certain.

  But his more sensible half would normally turn and walk the other direction if not for his loyalty to Cassandra. She needed his help and Charlie was a beautiful answer to his dilemma.

  “Let’s agree to some more terms before we shake on it, shall we?”

  “Shake?” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s a terrible idea. My first stipulation is that we close the bargain with something far more interesting.”

  “Such as?” He raised his brows, attempting to look stern as he glared down at her.

  She didn’t look frightened in the least. Most innocents were deathly afraid of him. Perhaps titillated but not willing to approach him. He was large, dark, and he scowled far more than he smiled. On purpose. He didn’t want most people to find him approachable.

  But Charlie either wasn’t innocent or didn’t care. He’d been wondering which since the first moment he’d met her. Which was the first sign of danger, really. He shouldn’t be wondering about her at all.

  When Jennifer had died, he’d sworn that she alone would hold his heart. He was a young man, and at some point, physical need had come knocking, but he kept those trysts as meaningless as possible. Full of sinful, physical delight and devoid of any emotion.

  He grimaced, his gut clenching. Why did being with Charlie now make him question the wisdom of that choice? Like he’d defiled himself, or Jennifer, or his memories with all his debaucherous behavior?

  “Well…” she started. “I’m looking for an education on the behavior of rakes and you are agreeing to give it to me. What might a rake do to seal a bargain?”

  He drew in a long breath through his nose. “Minx.”

  The single word fell between them, making her grin. “My brother would never use that word, but I believe the sentiment is the same. I do tend to stir trouble.”

  He shook his head, what had he gotten himself into? “Do you like trouble?”

  She shrugged. “I like being distracted. Have ever since—” She stopped, her face turning away from his. “I mostly keep my activities wholesome. I do intend to marry. But I find I am exceptionally restless here and I need…” She stopped talking.

  Raithe narrowed his gaze. Her words struck a chord in him. The restlessness maybe. Was she running from some feelings too? That made him hurt a bit. She was too stunning to have been wounded in such a way. “If you’re looking for a man to ruin you, I’m not him.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his. “I didn’t say that.”

  “We’re standing in the garden, alone.” He waved around them. “If discovered, you’d be a baroness before you could blink.”

  Her cheeks flushed and her hands buried in her skirts. “I don’t have a mother to teach me how to find a husband. I need some guidance.”

  He heard the pain lacing her voice and his own heart clenched. Of course, he’d known her parents had passed away, but he’d never realized how deeply she’d been affected. How old had she been when they’d died? His hand reached out, lightly caressing her upper arm. Because he understood her pain. Far more than he’d care to admit. But that was also a very good reason to keep his distance, at least emotionally. “Talk to the Moorish sisters. They can help you far better than I on that score. Hell, they can probably teach you about rakes better than I ever could. They seem exceptionally good at taming them.”

  “Are you reconsidering our arrangement?” She stepped closer, tilting her chin to look at him.

  His body was not cooperating with his mind and his fingers itched to pull her up against him. “No,” he answered, dropping his hand from her arm. “I will tell you what you want to know, but we’ll talk from now on when we’re in plain sight of proper chaperones.”

  She nodded. “I agree to your term. Now for mine.” She swallowed. “I want one single kiss to seal our bargain.”

  His lips thinned over his teeth. He couldn’t do it. She looked so tempting, tilting her chin up to him, throat exposed, body close enough to feel her heat, imagining her lush curves pressed into him. “Why?” he grated out.

  She blinked. “It seems rather important when planning to find a husband. How will I know I’m doing it right if I haven’t ever kissed anyone?”

  He clenched his fists at his sides. Bloody fuck and holy hell, she’d never been kissed. “A hundred men would have kissed you last season. Why me? Why now?”

  She shrugged. “Because you’re not interested in me. Because I’m not ready to marry yet and I don’t want to falsely lead one of those other men to believe—”

  He wrapped his fingers about her upper arm. This time the touch was less of a gentle stroke and more of a firm reminder. “You’re wrong.” The words flew from his lips before he could stop them, but now that he’d said them, he couldn’t take them back. Didn’t want to. “You are a stunningly beautiful woman with enough spunk to keep a man entertained for ages. And you should marry…immediately. Your tendencies are going to get you in trouble sooner rather than later.” He stepped closer, his chest just brushing the tips of her breasts. He felt her gasp and damn it all to hell if her nipples didn’t tighten, pushing into his chest. Need swelled inside him as he thought about taking each of those little buds into his mouth. How would she taste?

  “How dare you,” she said softly after she drew in a sharp breath. The move only pushed her breasts further into his chest. “I told you. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m using this opportunity to educate myself, but I can see now that I was wrong. I think this was a terrible idea—”

  He tugged her clos
er. She was going to null their bargain. He let out a low rumble of dissent. He needed this arrangement. And so he wrapped an arm about her waist, pulling her tight to his body. “The first rule of rakes is that a woman like you should never tangle with one.” Then he leaned down and captured her lips with his own.

  She inhaled and he knew that she drew in his breath. Her hands came to his chest and he wondered if she’d push him away. For a moment he held, waiting to see how she’d respond. He might be a rake but he’d never force himself on a woman.

  She softened under his stillness, grabbing his coat and pressing her lips closer to his. He nearly grinned, triumph and lust pulsing through him. She was as supple as he’d envisioned, fitting against him in the most perfect way. Her lips were achingly sweet as they pressed tentatively to his. Her education was about to begin and schooling had never been sweeter.

  Chapter Four

  Charlie held to Balstead’s lapels like one might cling to a dingy in a storm. She was sure if she let go, she’d be cast adrift.

  By contrast, he felt exactly like a giant oak tree: large, strong, and deeply rooted. Both shelter and strength, his massive hands wrapped about her body, nearly covering her entire back.

  His lips began moving against hers, keeping hers closed before he lifted and then kissed her again. She wasn’t certain how many times he repeated this movement, but her head grew increasingly muddled with every touch until rather than pressing her lips together, he nudged them apart and dipped his tongue between her parted lips.

  Then any shred of reason she had left evaporated. She snaked her hands about his neck, drawing him closer as he tasted her. He had the distinct scent of leather and the smoky cherry of his cigar. Under that was a deeply masculine scent that made her pulse flutter wildly.

  Tentatively, she met his tongue with her own, and tingles shot from the touch straight to the juncture between her legs.

  He ripped his mouth away, taking a half step back.

  She tilted wildly, her legs hardly holding her, but his hands slid to her waist, steadying her on her feet. “Consider our bargain sealed,” he whispered. “I’ve met your condition.”

  Then he slowly slid his hands away and took another step back.

  Her fingers fluttered up to her cheeks. Bargain? She wasn’t even certain she remembered her own name. The kiss had scrambled all her thoughts, her reason, her sense. “What?”

  “Our bargain, beautiful. You’re going to help Cassandra, and I am going to teach you about rakes. Consider our kiss the irrevocable seal on our deal and your first lesson.”

  “Lesson?” She blinked as she attempted to swipe the fog from her eyes. His kiss had been so delicious… “What lesson was that?”

  He stepped closer again, sliding his hand along her jaw, cupping her cheek, and her body pulsed with a need for more of his kisses. More of his touch.

  “Rakes are exceptionally good at touching, kissing, and coercing a woman into being alone with him,” he said. “If you’re not careful, far more careful than you’ve been with me, you will find yourself ruined. Caution is needed.”

  He dropped his hand and made to turn but her mind had begun to work. “But there is one thing I don’t understand.”

  He looked back over his shoulder at her. “What’s that?”

  “Surely, I’ve met rakes before, without realizing it.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “None of them ever…” She didn’t need to finish. They both knew what they’d just done.

  He spun back and moved closer once again, nearly touching her. Her body trembled at his nearness. “You wanted me too. That was the difference.” Then he turned again and disappeared into the darkness.

  She stood there, peering into the void where he’d disappeared. Her arms wrapped about her middle. She’d gotten exactly what she’d asked for and yet she was fairly certain she’d lost another round against the Baron of Balstead.

  She made her back to the kitchen, easing herself through the door and back up to her room.

  She didn’t bother with a maid, instead undressing herself, which took ages, and then she flopped onto her bed in just her chemise.

  She brushed the tips of her fingers across her lips. She’d been kissed.

  She closed her eyes. Not just any kiss. A soul-moving, earth-shattering, mind-numbing kiss. That ought to keep her thoughts off the loss of her parents, the loneliness that had nearly engulfed her. Only Dane had kept her from sinking from the weight of her grief, and now he was gone too.

  Well, not really gone but he’d left her in another sense. Off to a beautiful new life with Juliet. Perhaps Balstead was right. Mayhap it was time she married too.

  Raithe sat silently as he listened to the men. Fortunately, his absence had been short enough that he hadn’t been missed.

  Strange because the interlude had felt like an eternity. No, that wasn’t correct. He shifted in his seat, as he rubbed his face with one hand. He’d wanted the kiss to last forever—their little tryst in the garden had been far too short—but now that he’d had it, he was…altered. Hot. Bothered.

  He still wanted to help Cassandra, of course. She was the one good thing in his life. A friend when he had so few, and a link to when he’d been wholesome, and not jaded by how cruel life could be.

  But he’d also begun to wonder about his vow to remain unwed, unattached. Or perhaps he just questioned his solution, which had been to become a womanizing rogue.

  He sat forward as Crestwood and Craven chatted with their soon-to-be father-in-law. “How is the purchase coming?” Mr. Moorish turned to Crestwood.

  “Excellent.” Crestwood grinned. “Adrianna was right. The land is a gem and we shall benefit greatly from its purchase.”

  Mr. Moorish chuckled. “I’m sure you shall and may I just say, I’m glad I was not the one who had to purchase the property. That girl can wear a man down. I tried to tell her, I’m a ship’s man not a farmer. But she doesn’t listen.”

  Crestwood chuckled. “Well. I’ve been warned. I’m fairly certain she won’t listen to me either. It would be easier to digest if she weren’t right so often.” He didn’t look irritated, however. Rather the man wore a tender smile as he lightly rubbed his knuckles along his jaw.

  “How nice to have found a woman who is intelligent,” Raithe said, joining the conversation for the first time. Jennifer had been such a woman as well. She’d challenged him. Made him better. Damn how he missed their partnership

  Crestwood eyes him over the rim of the whisky. “It is.”

  Craven shook his shaggy head. Thinner than Raithe, the man was equally tall and extremely well-muscled. Raithe didn’t fear many men but he always gave Craven a careful step.

  “What I didn’t understand about love until I met Bianca was how filling it would be. It lights the dark corners,” Craven said.

  Crestwood and Mr. Moorish chuckled, but Raithe started in surprise. He’d barely heard the man speak and now he was waxing poetic?

  “Lights the dark corners?” Had he felt that way with Jennifer? He hadn’t remembered having dark corners then. He’d been young, fresh, the son of a gentleman. Privileged without the burden of being a lord.

  The other man brushed his dark hair back. “That’s right and I’m lighter for it too.”

  Lighter? Raithe had been weighed down by grief for so long. He looked down at his glass. “I don’t even remember what it means to be light.”

  Mr. Moorish leaned forward. “You should stay for a few days. Seabridge Gate is an excellent place to restore and refresh your body, mind, and spirit.” He waved around the room. “I was lost before I returned here, married, and started my family. It’s when I feel my real life started. The one of joy and meaning, anyhow.”

  Crestwood gave Raithe a wink. “There are rumors that Mr. Moorish here was quite the rascal in his younger days.”

  Mr. Moorish shook his head. “Rascal implies that I enjoyed myself. When I look back at that time of drink and women, it is as Craven said, the darkness before the
light. My life since I left London, fills me rather than draining my life’s blood.”

  Raithe shook his head as if someone had slapped his face. He couldn’t even imagine what happiness again might feel like. He’d been down in the dark for so long. Then an image of Charlie, sparkling in the moonlight, danced in front of him. His teeth clenched tighter. She wouldn’t make his life lighter. Would she?

  He knew a few things for certain. That kiss, her first, had filled him with a desire he’d never known. He’d barely been able to step away from her. It had taken every shred of his self-control.

  And if he kissed her again, the rightness or wrongness of touching a woman like her wouldn’t matter. He might lose himself in the passion she so effortlessly evoked.

  Chapter Five

  Charlie woke early and rose from bed, dressing in a beautiful morning gown of pale blue. Her hair was dressed in simple coif at her neck; today would be a day of doing, not lounging.

  What exactly she’d do, she was uncertain. But her fingers itched and her legs twitched. She needed a plan. She’d thought her rake research would keep her mind occupied, but last night’s activities had only sent it racing.

  What was her future going to be? She liked the attention she’d receive as a debutante. Multiple men swirling about left so little time for thinking.

  She’d assume she’d be bored in a marriage but perhaps, she needed such an activity to make her feel…safe and less lonely. A force like her brother had been these past several years.

  Heading downstairs, she found Mr. Moorish in the breakfast room. “You’re up early,” he said as he gave her a smile.

  She nodded. “I went to bed early with a headache.”

  “Feeling better this morning?”

  “Much,” she answered as she headed to the buffet; she filled her plate with food then sat down at the table. It wasn’t the truth. If anything, she felt far worse. But she needn’t burden Mr. Moorish with that.