I Kissed a Rogue (Covent Garden Cubs)

by Shana Galen

  “Of course. I’m not an impulsive man.”

  No, she could see that now. And why did that make him so much more dangerous?

  “There are ways to prevent children, of course.”

  Her eyes widened. “How?”

  “I won’t bore you with details.”

  Lila huffed. Surely he would know the subject was far from tedious to her. Everything he said surprised and fascinated her. She had almost forgotten to be appalled.

  “Suffice it to say, I don’t have the means with me. We may still enjoy each other without risking conception, but I know I’ll want more.” His eyes darkened, something she had not thought possible. “I will leave the decision with you, but if you decide to risk it and there is a child, know that I will accept him or her as mine.”

  “And when we part, the child will be yours. You could cut me out of his or her life,” she said.

  “True. Another point to consider.”

  “Then it would seem the honorable thing to do is to refrain from activities that would produce a child.”

  “That’s your choice,” he said. “But I will take you to bed, Lila. It might not be tonight, but it will be soon.”

  She finally tugged her hand out of his grasp. “What makes you so certain? You won’t force me, and you’ve given me ample reason to refuse.”

  “I give you reasons to refuse because I don’t cheat. When I win, I win fairly.”

  “Then I suppose you’ve lost.” She crossed her arms over her pelisse.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I haven’t played my final card.”

  She ignored the flutter of anticipation in her belly. “What’s that?”

  “I’ll have you because you want me.”

  Lila blew out a breath of indignation. “No, I don’t!”

  He gave her a disappointed frown. “I was honest with you. Am I not to receive the same courtesy?”

  “But I am being honest. I don’t love you.”

  He held up a hand. “Love and desire are two very different things. I don’t love you, but I desire you. Perhaps you aren’t certain what you feel for me. Perhaps there hasn’t been enough desire in your life for you to be able to pinpoint the emotion.” He’d moved toward her again, and she backed up until she was against the table and could move no farther.

  “Or perhaps I just don’t feel desire for you.”

  “I’ve seen it in your eyes after I kiss you. You want more.”

  She shook her head, but she knew she lied. She did want more of his kisses, more of his caresses. And what sort of woman did that make her when he pointedly told her he didn’t love her? Lila didn’t love him either, but she knew she was perilously close to the edge of that dangerous emotion. He was a difficult man not to love. He’d saved her numerous times, risked his life for her, and sacrificed for her. Not to mention, he was all the things he claimed—honest, thoughtful, honorable.

  And she very much liked the look of him without his shirt.

  If she allowed him into her bed—well, his bed—how could she stop herself from falling in love with him? And Lila knew he would never, never fall in love with her. He still hated her for what had happened between them in the past.

  “I think this is a bad idea. Not because I don’t want you.” She held up a hand, placing it between them. “But because I do.”

  “Why not give in to that desire?” he asked, taking her hand in his warm one. “You are a woman with needs and desires like any woman. Why not indulge them?”

  His dark eyes locked on hers, and he released her hand and ran his fingers up to her shoulders and over to the ties of her pelisse.

  “Because…”

  He flicked the ties and the garment opened.

  “Because you might enjoy what I do to you?”

  He pushed the pelisse off her shoulders, his gaze dipping down to the front of her gown. Could he see she wore no stays? Her hard nipples chafed against her chemise.

  Because she might never want him to stop.

  “You can retain your misplaced virtue, but it’s for no one’s value but your own.” His hands skimmed over her bare collarbone. “In the eyes of the world, your virtue is long gone. You’ve lost it without the pleasure.”

  His fingers on her skin were so warm, so light. His touched persuaded her, never demanded.

  “And you’re so certain you can give me pleasure.”

  His fingers halted. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

  “Care to wager on that?”

  What was she doing? This was madness. She did not want to further involve her emotions! On the other hand, what was more impersonal than a wager? She’d always enjoyed gambling, but she never felt elation at her wins or devastation at her losses. Why should this be any different? It was a game, nothing more. If she thought of it as nothing more than a game, her heart would be safe.

  Either that or his touch had so affected her, she was willing to create any excuse to give in. She rather feared this was the case but refused to dwell on the possibility.

  “Would I wager that I can give you pleasure? Name the stakes and terms.”

  “It’s for me to define pleasure.”

  “A given, as long as you are honest.”

  “You may not do anything that will produce a child.”

  “Accepted. What else?”

  Should she be blushing? She rather thought she should be. But she was too excited to blush, too feverish with eagerness.

  “You will stop if I ask.”

  He frowned at her. “That goes without saying, but you won’t ask me to stop.”

  Her breath hitched. “If I do—”

  “I will cease immediately.”

  She bit her lip, trying to think of more terms. Brook stood patiently, seeming content to wait her out. “You will never mention this wager to anyone,” she said, thinking of the infamous betting books at White’s club.

  “Madam, do not insult me.”

  “Fine. That’s all I can think of.” She took a shaky breath. “What now?”

  But he didn’t pounce on her as she expected. “What sort of wager has only terms and no stakes?”

  That was right. She had to set the stakes.

  “If I win…” What did she want? More than she wanted Brook to kiss her again. More than she wanted to be safe from this Beezle. Security. Safety. A life where she would not be sent from one relative to another like an ugly family heirloom. “If I win, there’s no annulment.”

  For the first time since she had met him again, his face registered genuine shock. His mouth opened slightly, and he leaned away from her.

  The fire crackled in the long silence. Lila had ample time to reconsider what she’d said. She could withdraw the words. But she wouldn’t. She hadn’t even known this was what she wanted, not until the words had come out of her mouth. But now that she’d said them, she knew she wanted it more than anything else she had ever wanted, save for her mother to live.

  “I’m not certain I understand,” Brook finally said, his words slow and deliberate.

  “You understand.”

  “Indulge me. If I am unable to give you pleasure, you want to remain married to me?”

  “Yes.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, clearly puzzled. “I am not one of those men who think women mysterious creatures, but I will admit you have me mystified.”

  “Do you need to understand them to agree?”

  “No.” He gave her his attention again, and the feeling was heady. When Brook focused on her, she felt it in every fiber of her being. “I agree. If I fail to pleasure you—by your honest admission—then I will not pursue annulment.”

  “Very good. Then those are the stakes.” She glanced at the bed, wondering if she should go to it or if he would lead her there. How long would this take? How long until she would be safe from this ruinous annulment?

  His finger caught her chin and dragged her gaze back to him. “Those are only half the stakes, my lady. There’s the questio
n of what prize I receive if I win.”

  She jerked her chin away. “I should think that is obvious. If you win, you are free to rid yourself of me.”

  “I’m free to do that without agreeing to the wager. What do I receive if I do agree?”

  “And win.”

  He inclined his head, ever the gentleman although they were wagering over bedsport.

  Lila hadn’t considered this aspect of the agreement. She had no idea what to grant him. “What do you want?”

  “This is your wager. You set the terms and the stakes. I won’t have you agree to something you can’t stomach.”

  Frustrated, she paced away from him. “This would be easier if you didn’t act so much the gentleman.”

  He laughed, and she whipped around at the sound. “Don’t worry, wife, I won’t play the gentleman much longer.”

  Lila shivered. He meant he wouldn’t behave like a gentleman when he took her to bed. The thought terrified and excited her equally.

  “But I always honor my bets.” He took a seat in the chair. “Take your time, if you like. We have all night.”

  She didn’t want to take her time. She wanted this over and done. She couldn’t stand the anticipation of what he might or might not do to her. Couldn’t stand having him look at her with that knowing look. She wanted to know too.

  And yes, if she was being honest, she wanted him to kiss her again.

  “I don’t need more time. If you win, I will…” She had no idea what she had that she could give him. He didn’t want money. He didn’t seem to care for status or power. The only thing he seemed to want was her. “I will do whatever you want.”

  His brows rose. “Would you like to qualify that?”

  Lord, he really did not cheat. She had left herself vulnerable, and he wouldn’t even take advantage of that. How would she not fall in love with him?

  “Yes. I will do whatever you want within reason.”

  “Too vague.”

  “Are you a barrister?”

  He laughed. “No, but I know far too many of them. Might I make a suggestion, which you are free to take or reject or modify?”

  “Of course.”

  “You might agree to do whatever I want for one night.”

  Oh, but that sounded incredibly wicked. She hadn’t considered that he might want a carnal favor from her. She had meant he might ask her to collect wood or heat water. He wanted none of those things, of course. He wanted her.

  “One night is a long time,” she said, trying not to imagine his naked chest on the bed beneath her.

  “Time is relative, but now you are thinking along the correct lines.”

  She considered for several moments, choosing and discarding several wicked, wicked—in her opinion, at least—options. Finally, she decided it did not matter. She did not intend to lose.

  “I will grant you one request.”

  “Any request?”

  She sensed danger, but he was a gentleman. He would not take advantage of her. “Yes. One request. Anything you ask.”

  “Very well.” He rose. “I give you my word that I shall adhere to the conditions set forth.”

  “I also agree. Is that all then? Do we sign papers or shake hands?”

  “A gentleman’s word is his bond, but if you prefer to see this in writing—”

  How mortifying! “No. That is not necessary. I trust you.”

  “Good. You’ll need to trust me.”

  “I will?”

  “Absolutely. Because now is when I stop acting the gentleman.”

  “Oh.”

  Nothing overt about him changed. His face didn’t turn demonic. He didn’t sprout horns or a forked tail. Instead, he walked to the bed and sat, calmly removing his boots. Then he looked up at her, his eyes dark with what even she recognized as desire.

  “Lila, take off your clothes.”

  Eleven

  If her startled gasp and choked “I beg your pardon” were any indication, he’d shocked her. If all went as planned, he’d shock her further before the night was over.

  “Come here, Lila.”

  “Why?” she asked, eyes wary.

  If he told her plainly, she’d probably recommence negotiations. He had no doubt she’d fulfill her end of the bargain, but she liked everything on her terms.

  “So we might have a conversation without yelling across the room.” The room was far too small for any yelling to be necessary, but Lila seemed to accept this response. She crossed to him, standing primly before him.

  Brook was surprised at how much he liked her primness. It made him want to strip it away, layer by layer, like he might a high-necked dress. He’d never tangled with an innocent before, but he didn’t feel particularly guilty. He hadn’t deceived her or been dishonest. She’d agreed to the arrangement and even set the terms. His motives weren’t particularly honorable, but he would honor the terms of the agreement. If she conceived a child, he would care for it. If she didn’t experience pleasure, he would not petition for an annulment.

  And wasn’t that an interesting request? Why would she want to stay married to him, especially when she had made it quite clear the first time he’d proposed marriage she wouldn’t marry him even if he were the last man on earth.

  Had her feelings toward him changed? More likely she worried what the ton would say about an annulment.

  Brook took her hand in his, a small gesture that caused her to pull back from him. Her ice-cold hand tensed in his.

  “You’re cold.”

  “I’m actually quite warm, thank you. I will leave my clothing on.”

  “If you wish.”

  He’d have her undressed before the night was through, but he wouldn’t force the issue. She’d want him to take her dress off.

  He moved to the side, making room for her on the bed. “Sit beside me.”

  “I would prefer to stand.”

  “Very well.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I won’t hurt you, you know. If you don’t enjoy something, you may ask me to stop.”

  “I do wish you’d stop talking so much. The more you talk, the more nervous I feel. Just do whatever it is you want to do already.”

  He opened her hand and kissed the inside of her palm, feeling her shiver. “So you’re a romantic, I take it.”

  She laughed, and her hand relaxed slightly. He brushed his lips over the tender skin of the heel of her hand, tracing a path to her wrist.

  “I suppose I don’t know much about romance. I know it stems from love. You don’t love me, and I…I don’t love you.”

  He raised his gaze to her face, interested in her hesitation. Why had she stumbled over that admission? Did she hate him more than he thought or like him more than she wished?

  He pressed his lips to her wrist, feeling the rapid tap of her pulse.

  “I do wish you would stop that,” she said.

  “Stop what?” he asked, darting his tongue out to taste her skin. It tasted like smoke from the hearth and something unique that could only be her. “Be specific.”

  “Stop doing that with your mouth.”

  Brook pulled back. “You don’t enjoy it?”

  “I…it makes me feel…uncomfortable.”

  “Warm?” He ran his hands up her arms.

  “Yes.”

  “Short of breath?” He stood and ran his hands down her back to rest on her waist. She had a small waist. He ached to move his fingers lower and explore the curve of her hips. All in time.

  “Yes, exactly.” She tilted her head to look up at him.

  “Like you want something but aren’t quite sure what?”

  She nodded.

  Brook bent and placed his mouth beside her ear. She tried to pull away, but he held her in place. He allowed his breath to tease her skin, felt her shiver.

  “I know what you want,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed the tender skin of her jaw just below her earlobe.

  She exhaled softly and swayed toward him.

&n
bsp; “I know the name for what you feel.” He kissed her earlobe.

  “What is that?” Her voice was breathless, and he didn’t think she realized her hands had come up to clutch his chest.

  “Arousal.” He allowed his lips to trail over the curve of her jaw, moving one hand from her waist to the small of her back. Gently, he pulled her body against his, then touched his lips to hers.

  The kiss was chaste and light, a kiss designed to calm her. She’d been kissed like this before. If he had to guess, he would have said half a dozen men had stolen a kiss like this from her on a moonlit terrace or behind a potted plant at a ball. He’d kissed her like this once upon a time.

  He pressed light kisses over her lips until she relaxed against him. She didn’t fear this. Neither did it fire her blood, but that would come soon enough. Brook allowed his lips to linger a little longer, press more firmly. She responded tentatively, her own lips moving against his.

  She was comfortable, and that had to change.

  He pulled back slightly. Her eyes were closed, her face tilted up to his. Deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers and traced the seam of her lips with his tongue. Her eyes snapped open.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing you.”

  “With your tongue?”

  He raised a brow. “You’ve never been kissed like that before?”

  “I…”

  “It’s very French, quite fashionable these days.”

  “Oh.”

  Brook almost smiled. Trust Lila to want to be in fashion, whether that meant her clothing or the way she kissed.

  “May I continue?” he asked. “You haven’t told me to stop.”

  Her lips pursed, but she nodded. “I suppose.”

  He began again, not because he felt the need to proceed in a particular order but because she would not be expecting it. As he predicted, when he repeated the light, familiar kisses, she relaxed again. She even leaned into him, her body asking for what her mind did not even know she wanted.

  He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, nudging them open until they softened and parted. He kissed her more deeply and with more passion until her hands fisted on the lawn of his shirt.

  He tasted her, his tongue dipping just inside her lips to sample what she offered. Her body stiffened again, then relaxed when he kept his attentions light and controlled. Brook hadn’t expected to struggle with his control, but the taste of her aroused him more than he’d expected. She tasted of the wine they’d drunk and the bread they’d feasted on, but beneath that was the taste of her—of Lila.