Once a Scoundrel

by Anna Harrington

A howl pierced the quiet, followed by sharp curses and the sound of a hard object hitting a soft one. Another heartbreaking howl—

  Faith ran.

  Ahead in the road, a large stranger held a shaggy wolfhound by the scruff of his neck and beat at it with a club. The dog’s eyes were wide with fear, its tail tucked between its legs. It struggled to break free as the club struck brutally against its head. A bone-chilling howl of pain tore from its throat.

  Faith made a diving grab for the hound just as the man raised his arm to strike again. “Leave that dog alone!”

  The man hesitated in his swing when she threw her arms around the dog’s neck. Then he let out a violent curse that set the animal into a fit of snarling barks. “That damn cur tried to bite me!”

  “That’s no reason to beat him!” she defended, sliding as much of her body between the man and the wolfhound as possible. If the brute wanted to hurt an innocent creature, then he’d have to go through her to do it! “He thought you were trying to hurt him.”

  “I’ll sure as hell hurt him now!”

  The man grabbed her arm and yanked hard to pull her away from the dog, who instantly began to snarl and snap at the man. He kicked at the hound, and the animal latched onto his leg, sinking its teeth into his calf.

  With a curse, he viciously kicked the dog loose. He swung the club again, just barely missing Faith’s head. So close she felt the whoosh of air against her cheek.

  A gunshot split the air.

  The man spun around in surprise, his hand clamped tightly over the club and holding it above his head, ready to strike. He stepped back just far enough for Faith to see—

  Stephen.

  He sat on his horse in the middle of the lane, with one arm raised into the air and a trail of smoke curling from the end of the spent pistol in his hand. His face remained hard and emotionless, and Faith shivered. She’d never seen him looking so fierce before. So deadly.

  “The lady said to leave the dog alone,” he said calmly, his deep voice coldly controlled. “So if I were you, I’d release her.” He slowly raised a second pistol in his other hand and pointed it at the man’s chest. “And step away.”

  The man shoved her to the ground beside the dog, who immediately darted between her and the stranger to protect her. The hair along its back stood on end as a low, threatening snarl emanated from between its bared teeth.

  “Damned bitch!” The man tossed the club down at her feet and then spat at the ground. “As worthless as that mangy cur.”

  White-hot rage flickered in Stephen’s eyes, but he calmly kept the pistol pointed at the man. “You’re a stranger to this area.”

  “That’s none of your goddamned bus—”

  “Or you would know that she is Lady Faith Westover, daughter of the Duke of Strathmore.”

  The man’s red face paled to white.

  “Who will surely set you swinging by the neck for touching her.”

  “But I-I didn’t—I didn’t!” He glanced down at her, and his eyes widened as he finally took in the quality of her clothes and the fairness of her face. “I-I...My apologies, my lady! But that dog bit at me, and I was only—”

  “Leave,” Stephen ordered in a voice so filled with raw fury that an icy shiver slithered down Faith’s spine. He cocked the pistol. “Now.”

  The man ran down the lane and plunged into the woods. Within seconds, he was gone from sight. By nightfall he’d be two villages away. A ragged sigh of relief poured from her.

  Stephen eased down the hammer, then dismounted from his horse. As he tucked both pistols beneath his redingote, he came forward slowly, watching the dog and carefully keeping his distance from its snapping jaws.

  “Good boy,” she told the hound in the calmest voice she could muster, despite the fierce pounding of her heart. “Hush now.”

  At her soft words, the animal stopped barking and with a whimper spun around to race back to her. It buried its furry head against her shoulder, and all of it shook violently with fear. Petting it soothingly, Faith rolled her eyes that her guard dog had turned out to be not so fierce after all. Because for all he’d hated the man who’d struck him, he didn’t give a single growl or snarl as Stephen knelt on the ground beside her. Traitor.

  “Are you all right?” Concern thickened his voice.

  “I’m fine.” Although her dress was completely ruined, both by the ground where she’d fallen when the man shoved her and now by the ripe smell of dirty dog.

  He tugged off his gloves and with a worried frown reached for her chin, to turn her head from side to side as he studied her for any signs of wounding. Heaving out a breath of relief, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him.

  “Dear God, Faith,” he murmured, his mouth buried in her hair. “What were you thinking, to confront a man like that? You could have been seriously injured.”

  “I wasn’t hurt,” she protested. She closed her eyes and drank in the strength of his arms around her, the hardness of his body pressed against hers. She’d missed being in his arms more than she’d realized, more than she should have let her herself feel. Even though she knew she should push him away, she couldn’t find the resolve to do so.

  “When I saw that bastard raise that club—” A soft curse passed his lips. He cupped her face between his hands as he admitted in a raspy murmur, “If he’d hurt you, I would have killed him.”

  Her lips parted softly at the intensity in him. She’d never seen him like this before. Never this angry, never this upset. And that it was because of her—

  No. She wouldn’t let her foolish heart get its hopes up this time, only to be dashed again when he turned his attentions away. Or when he decided to leave again.

  “Faith,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss her.

  She froze, her breath catching in her throat and all of her tensing as his lips moved gently against hers. For one desperate moment she was certain that even her heart had stopped beating. He was kissing her—Stephen was kissing her! Oh heavens. She should have shoved him away, should have slapped him, should have done...anything except sit there and let him.

  But moving away was the last thing she wanted to do. Not when the protective warmth of his arms and the taste of his kisses were so bittersweet that she couldn’t find the strength to deny herself of them. And certainly not when his kiss ached, filled with such longing that she trembled from it. He kissed her as if he needed this embrace to survive, as much as he needed air to breathe. Its intensity stunned her. So did her own heart-thumping response to it, how her blood heated and her flesh tingled. How she thrilled at the way his mouth so easily took possession of hers.

  Confusion spun through her, and an aching rose low in her belly. Stephen was kissing her, and it was just as wonderful as she remembered. No...not as wonderful. Better. So much better because when he’d left he’d still been a man-boy, full of fire and urgency. Now he was all man, and the rashness inside him had tempered into control, making him all the more dangerous because of it.

  “Faith,” he whispered achingly as he tore his mouth away from hers and trailed his lips along her jaw. “Beautiful Faith...how much I missed you...”

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the stinging tears. Instead of thrilling her, his words angered her. Her heartache ran too deep be assuaged by mere words. He’d flattered and flirted with her before, after all, only to break her heart. He’d kissed her hungrily four years ago, too, lavished her with compliments and flattery, and it meant nothing in the end.

  “Not enough,” she whispered sadly, turning her face away.

  “What do you mean?” His lips found her ear and sucked at her earlobe, and she couldn’t fight down the delicious tingles that vibrated through her.

  “You left.” A confusion of conflicting emotions rioted inside her, half which had her wanting to shove him away and the rest making her thrill at the way his muscles flexed beneath her fingertips, tempting her to simply throw her arms around him and surrender. “With no warning, no
explanation...”

  “I couldn’t stay.” Regret roughened his voice even as his arms tightened around her, as if he could read her mind and sense her doubt. As if he were afraid she might slip away. “I had to leave. England was unbearable for me, you know that. There was too much pressure from my family to be something I wasn’t, too many responsibilities for the marquessate, and my father...” He drew a jerking breath at the memories of that time. “Daniel had already enlisted. The regiment was leaving—”

  “You left,” she repeated, unable now to stop the tears from gathering at her lashes, the sobs from choking in her throat. “You left me.”

  “I was a damned fool, I know that now.” He placed a kiss against her lips, so tender that it stole her breath away. “Forgive me, Faith.” Another kiss, this one lingering long enough for his hands to sweep tenderly over her body. “Give me a second chance.”

  Her chest clenched so painfully that she winced. Those were the exact words she’d longed to hear for the past four years, for him to realize what a cad he’d been and how much he’d lost when he left her. But sweet words and empty flattery had always come easily to him. How could she believe him about this?

  His lips cajoled at hers to open so he could slip his tongue inside, and when she did, helpless now to push him away, a wanton sensation curled through her, sliding down her spine until her toes curled beneath her. Oh heavens, he’d curled her toes! More, a wicked ache began to throb between her legs. Through a fog of desire, her mind couldn’t think of the right thing to do at that moment. She knew only the longing that blossomed inside her and the delicious slide of his tongue between her lips in a tantalizing rhythm that had her grasping at his shoulders to keep from falling away with him into oblivion.

  He rained kisses along the side of her neck, never kissing the same spot twice before moving on, as if he wanted to explore and taste every bit of her. She couldn’t fight back the urge to lean into him, to press herself as tightly against him as she could. When she arched her back and brought her breasts against his lapels, she was rewarded with a soft groan of appreciation.

  As if he knew how close she was to capitulation, he slid his hand up to her neck and massaged slow circles against her nape. Such an innocent touch, yet the possessiveness of his hand on her and the seductive caresses of his fingertips conveyed exactly how much pleasure he could give her if she simply let go. If she forgave him and somehow found a way to erase the past four years of loneliness and tears.

  “Faith,” he murmured. “I’ve changed. Let me prove it to you.” He took her bottom lip between his and sucked until he pulled the faint ache from between her legs all the way up through her body. “Say you’ll give me a second chance.”

  Her breath came fast and shallow as his hand at her waist began to slid slowly upward over her ribs, higher and higher...When he cupped her breast, holding her fullness against his palm, a hot yearning shot through her with a fierce intensity she’d never felt before. He murmured her name and strummed his thumb over her nipple, and the soft friction made her shiver. She whimpered as every inch of her tingled with a desperate longing to be touched even more intimately.

  “I’ve made terrible mistakes, Faith, but I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to correct them.” As his hand continued to caress her breast and tease at her nipple through her dress, the other one traced delicate patterns at her nape, and he placed a soft kiss against her throat, so tenderly that it stole her breath away. “Forgive me, Faith.”

  “I don’t—I can’t—” she panted out, not knowing what to say or think. Her mind whirled beneath the heat of his touch, which was somehow both wicked and wonderful. She felt as if she were spinning out of control, and the emotions he churned inside her turned unbearable—

  “No!” She shoved away from him, her eyes blurring with anger and tears.

  Desperate to get away, she scrambled to her feet and snatched up her bonnet, then hurried down the lane as fast as she could without breaking into a run. Her chest heaved in painful gasps as she struggled to catch back the breath he’d stolen.

  She blinked rapidly. The devil take the man! What right did he have to come sweeping back into her life like this, to think he could pick up where he left off—kissing her, no less! As if he had the right to take kisses from her whenever he liked, then flatter her into doing his bidding.

  Oh, he hadn’t changed at all! He was still the same scoundrel he’d always been.

  He fell easily into step beside her, his horse clip-clopping along behind and the wolfhound following at her heels. Her stomach plummeted. Oh perfect! She’d created a parade, when all she wanted was to be left alone.

  “You have no right to kiss me,” she scolded, her eyes fixed straight ahead. He didn’t deserve her attention, not even a glance! Besides, if she did look at him, she’d see those smooth cheekbones of his, that curly dark hair that was perfect for running fingers through, those sensuous lips— Drat him! Why on earth did he have to be so blasted attractive? And why, oh why, did he have to be a rake who knew how to kiss so well? “Certainly not to touch me like that.”

  “None at all,” he agreed ruefully. “My apologies.”

  That earned him an annoyed dart of her eyes. “Or to ask my forgiveness when you don’t deserve it.”

  “I truly don’t.”

  Another irritated flick of her gaze in his direction. “And do not assume that just because you came riding in like Horatio Nelson on horseback—”

  “Admiral Nelson?”

  “Yes—No!” Why did she lose the ability to think when she was around him? Oh bother! “You know what I mean. Just because you chased that man away doesn’t give you any claim to me.”

  “None whatsoever,” he said in the same chagrinned tone as before, but Faith could have sworn she heard a deeper edge to his voice.

  “Because you don’t.” The words tumbled from her as rapidly as her steps. “I believed you once before, you know. All those things you said, all the compliments you paid me…I believed that you cared about me, only to be hurt. Deeply hurt, Stephen.”

  “That was my mistake,” he said softly.

  That caught her off-guard, and she stumbled across a bump in the lane. He caught her arm to steady her but didn’t release her once she’d moved on.

  Her heart somersaulted with a moment’s hope— Then the silly thing crashed down into the pit of her stomach because she knew he hadn’t changed at all. Feeling like a fool all over again, she yanked her arm away.

  “You have no right to kiss me like that,” she admonished, “just because you wanted to.”

  “I did want to,” he murmured, this time not at all remorseful. “I truly did.”

  She ignored the knotting inside her belly. “We are only friends.”

  “Friends who kissed,” he clarified. “With great passion.”

  “There wasn’t any great passion,” she grated out the lie between clenched teeth, knowing exactly how passionate his kisses were but refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting that.

  “There wasn’t? Then maybe we should try it again.”

  The man was impossible! Her frustration with him—with herself—with all of it!—boiled to the surface. “We are friends, nothing more,” she asserted, knowing she had to acknowledge the truth behind that statement, no matter how painful. “That’s all we will ever be.”

  He murmured, “I wouldn’t say ever...”

  Her breath hitched at the soft promise behind his words, but she knew he wasn’t sincere. Painful experience had taught her well what to expect from him. She’d hardened her heart enough to keep him from ever breaking it again, although each heated glance, each breathtaking kiss, and each caressing touch sliced deeper than she wanted to admit.

  But he’d played with her affections once. She refused to let him do it again.

  “Dunwich and a Strathmore daughter? It’s expected.” She shook her head with a dismissive laugh and repeated his words from last night, “And you never d
o the expected.”

  She darted a glance in his direction and found his eyes narrowed and fixed straight ahead, his shoulders stiff, and his jaw clenched tight. Oh, he was not happy that she’d laughed at him!

  But it was nothing less than the rascal deserved. What had he expected, for heaven’s sake? Did he really expect her to take him seriously? Most likely he thought she’d fling herself into his arms and beg to be kissed, grateful for whatever scrap of attention he paid her.

  She couldn’t blame him for thinking so. After all, she’d once done exactly that.

  But never again.

  A line of demarcation needed to be drawn. “You’re the same man you’ve always been, eschewing the expected in favor of the unpredicted. For example, kissing me back there,” she announced with a nonchalant wave of her hand, as if he hadn’t shaken her to her core and left her longing for more. “That was very unexpected.”

  “Not for me,” he drawled. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I walked into the ball last night and saw you.”

  His words sent heat twining down her spine. “Well, it was for me.” In more ways than she was willing to count. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Taking her shoulders, he stopped her and turned her to face him. “Why not?” His eyes gleamed, as if he wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his arms. “Didn’t you enjoy it?”

  So much more than I should have. She shook her head to fight back the rising blush. “It doesn’t matter if—”

  “Because I certainly did.” He drove her to fresh distraction with the breathy purr of his voice. “A great deal.”

  “That’s not the point,” she dodged.

  “I think it’s a very important point.” He slid a heated gaze down at her mouth, and for a moment, she thought he might just kiss her. To prove his very important point. “Because you deserve to be kissed, Faith Westover,” he murmured, lowering his head until his breath shivered against her lips. So close to touching, yet so frustratingly far away...“You deserve to have a man hold you in his arms, to be touched and caressed. To be assured of how desirable you are, the kind of woman who invades a man’s thoughts and haunts his dreams.” His eyes darkened as he stared into hers. “To realize exactly how much power you hold over him, and how desperately he wants you.”