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Once a Scoundrel

Page 8

by Anna Harrington


  No. She wasn’t that special to him.

  “Everyone likes strawberries,” she countered with a dismissive shrug of her shoulder.

  “Perhaps.” He poured the chocolate into the two cups, then set the pot aside and reached for one of the plump strawberries. “But does everyone like to dunk their strawberries into their chocolate like you do?” He dipped it into the dark liquid, then raised it to her lips. “Open.”

  Too stunned not to obey, she parted her lips, and he placed the ripe berry into her mouth. The sweet combination of chocolate and strawberry melted deliciously on her tongue, and she ate it slowly, relishing its luxurious taste.

  “See?” He dipped a second berry. “I’m not so bad.”

  “Oh yes, you are. You’re a rake who—” He slipped the berry between her lips and cut off the scathing description of his romantic antics that she’d been poised to deliver. But this time when she ate the berry, his dark gaze fell to her mouth, and an unbearable longing to be kissed swirled through her.

  He caressed his thumb across her lip and brushed away a small droplet of chocolate. “I’m a rake who...what?” His eyes not leaving hers, he sucked the droplet from his thumb and murmured, “Delicious.”

  Oh my.

  She shoved one of the cups at him, suddenly feeling the need to free her hands, although she couldn’t have said whether to reach for him or shove him away. Her mind screamed at her that he was nothing but trouble and still the same scoundrel he’d always been, and wasn’t this midnight picnic proving exactly that? But her heart, oh her foolish heart! That traitorous thing wanted nothing more than to let him feed her strawberries all night.

  “You’re a rake who’s fallen right back into his old ways,” she scolded, but it was terribly hard to sound disapproving with those beckoning blue eyes staring at her mouth like that. As if he wanted to devour her the way she’d devoured the berries.

  “No, I haven’t. If I’d fallen into old habits, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He took the proffered cup and set it aside, and she realized her mistake as soon as he did—one less barrier between them. “I’d be in the house letting Lady Rathbourne dig her claws into me.”

  “So why aren’t you?” she whispered, half-afraid to hear the answer.

  He answered quietly, “I don’t want that life anymore.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She knew him too well. He’d once epitomized that life.

  “And yet, here I am.”

  She frowned at that, not knowing what to think. He was here when he could have been in the viscountess’s bed, although she didn’t believe for one moment that his motives were pure. “And why is that, exactly?”

  He stared into her eyes with a beckoning look that left her trembling. “Because I’d much rather be with you.”

  “I don’t believe that, either,” she scoffed.

  His lips twitched, yet he wisely ignored her comment. Instead, he swiftly changed topics by saying, “What no one ever tells you about life in the army is how exceedingly boring it can be, enough to make a soldier crave battle.”

  “Crave battle?” she repeated, surprised.

  He quirked a brow at her as he reached for another strawberry. “Nothing combats ennui as effectively as the fear of imminent death.”

  She laughed, despite herself. Leave it to Stephen to make her laugh over something like that!

  “So I spent most of those long stretches of boredom thinking about my life, what I wanted from it, what was important to me.” With a thoughtful wrinkle crinkling his brow, he dipped the strawberry into the chocolate. “And I kept coming back to the same answer.”

  She leaned forward slightly, ready to accept the next berry. “Which was?”

  “You.”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise, and he placed the berry on her tongue. As she choked the berry down, she stared at him, stunned. He couldn’t mean...Impossible. Yet his handsome face was serious, all his teasing gone.

  This time when he caressed his thumb across her bottom lip, he lowered his head to follow after it with his lips.

  With a soft sigh, Faith closed her eyes against the touch of his mouth to hers, unable to find enough will power to pull away. This was nothing like the kisses he’d given her in the lane. Those had been full of hunger and need, as if he had to kiss her in order to stay alive. But this kiss...oh, this one was soft, gentle, and so very tender. There was no hurry this time, no desperation behind the way his fingertips caressed over her cheek, somehow both soothing and exciting at the same time.

  As he brushed his lips back and forth across hers, the flavors of chocolate and berry and man blended together into the most delicious taste she’d ever experienced.

  “Faith,” he murmured against her lips, “darling Faith...It took Daniel’s death to make me realize all that I’d been missing, that I’d made a terrible mistake in leaving you.”

  Her chest tightened with a pang of pain and regret. “Stephen...” she protested in a whisper.

  He lifted his head to stare down at her. His blue eyes turned smoky in the shadows cast by the lantern as they searched her face for answers she couldn’t give. All she knew was that his return had sent her head spinning and her heart aching. Stephen had always been special to her, and even though she’d been courted by other men since he’d left, they had been nothing but dim shadows compared to his light. If that last summer had gone differently, if he had ever once attempted to bare his feelings like this—

  But he hadn’t. And nothing could be gained now by wishing for might-have-beens.

  Yet when his lips covered hers again, she drank him in, helpless to keep herself from finally accepting the kisses she’d yearned for so long to have. She knew he didn’t care for her, knew he’d only end up hurting her again if she once more gave over her heart...but at this moment, here, he was hers. And she wasn’t strong enough to deny herself this moment in his arms.

  He cupped her face in his hands so that he could more easily take small kisses and nibbles at her lips. “I want to correct all the mistakes I’ve made, to make right everything that went wrong.”

  “I don’t know—” A caressing sweep of his tongue between her lips silenced her. She shivered at the exquisite intimacy of his kiss as he explored the recesses of her mouth, then set to slowly plunging between her lips in a steady rhythm that had her heart pounding in time to the gentle thrusts of his tongue.

  He slid his mouth away from hers to kiss along her jaw and back to her ear. “Before India, I thought I could keep living my life exactly as I had.” His lips caressed warmly against her temple. “But I was wrong.”

  With each soft confession and caress, the heartbreak he’d caused her receded a little more, until there was only Stephen in the shadows. Until all that mattered was the sound of his deep voice falling through her like warm summer rain and the tender caresses of his hands making her feel desired. Instead of pushing him away as she should have done, she clung to him. She knew she was dancing a razor’s edge, attempting to savor his kisses while somehow still protecting her heart, but she couldn’t help herself. As always, he was irresistible.

  “The man I was at the time reveled in doing the exact opposite of what my family and society wanted,” he admitted, lowering his head until his mouth was so close that she felt the heat of his lips shivering across hers. “But that’s changed now, too.”

  “Has it?” she whispered breathlessly.

  He nodded, the slight movement brushing his lips above hers in a ghost caress that didn’t quite touch. “I’ve decided to marry one of Strathmore’s daughters after all.”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed, not daring to believe the implication behind his words. “What do you—” Something hot and wet licked beneath her chin. She gasped. “Stop that!”

  He froze, but the lick came again.

  “Oh!” She pulled back, and the wolfhound jumped between them to lap eagerly at her face, slobbering over her cheeks. She tried to push him away, but the dog thought she wanted
to play and dove in for another round of licks. Its tail wagged so hard that its entire back half sashayed from side to side.

  “That’s enough out of you.” Stephen grabbed the dog by its collar and pulled it away.

  Faith scrambled to her feet. Scowling with a disgusted face, she dragged the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away the slobber. Ugh! She wanted a hot bath.

  With a crooked grin, Stephen scolded the dog as he opened the stall door and let him out into the aisle, “Go find your own woman.” His midnight blue eyes heated as they lingered on her. “This one’s mine.”

  Her heart lodged painfully in her throat. “I’m not yours, Stephen,” she protested softly. “I’ve never truly been yours.”

  His grin sobered, and he asked quietly, “Do you want to be?”

  Stunned, she searched his face, her heart pounding in utter bewilderment. After all that had happened between them, all the pain he’d caused her, he couldn’t seriously be offering...His. There was a time when she’d have given everything to be just that, the one woman he loved and cherished, the only woman he wanted in his bed and at his side for the rest of his life. But instead of giving his love, he’d broken her heart. It took four long and lonely years to put it back together, piece by painful piece.

  Now he stood here in front of her, the taste of him still on her lips, and hinted that she could have him if she simply asked. It was everything she’d always wanted from him. And yet...

  The truth shivered coldly through her for why he’d been so relentlessly pursuing her, and her heart broke anew. He still didn’t want her. What he wanted was society’s acceptance, and he was willing to go so far in his desire to have that new-found respectability that he would resort to doing that which he loathed most—the expected.

  And nothing was more expected than marrying Strathmore’s daughter.

  The roar of blood in her ears was deafening, and each pounding beat jarred her back to reality. To the man Stephen truly was rather than the man she wanted him to be.

  She shook her head, his handsome face blurring from the tears stinging her eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” she breathed, barely above a whisper. “Because you don’t want me.”

  His gaze never left hers as he closed the distance between them, then scooped her into his arms. As he lowered her to the straw, his mouth claimed hers in a blisteringly possessive kiss that left her weak and trembling beneath him.

  He tore his mouth away from hers to nip at her throat. He panted out against her racing pulse, “I very much want you.”

  Her heart somersaulted. Oh, foolish thing! She knew better...An agonized whisper tore from her, “No, you don’t.”

  He lifted his head to stare down at her, and his eyes gleamed devilishly. “I think I do.”

  She shook her head as the truth choked from her— “You’ve never wanted me, Stephen. Not before, and not now.”

  His eyes flared as his gaze bore down into hers, and an intensity burned inside him that made her shiver. “Is that what you think?”

  “I know so.” Four years ago he’d wanted the innocent kisses and flattering attentions of a girl who thought he was dashing beyond compare. Now he wanted respectability at all costs. But he didn’t want her.

  He laughed, the sound dark as it rumbled into her. “You don’t know a thing.”

  *****

  Faith gazed at him with such a bewildered expression that Stephen had to bite back a curse. For God’s sake, how could she not know how he’d felt about her?

  His feelings for her went beyond the friendship they’d shared to become something deeper, more enduring, and incredibly special. Her kindness and gentleness toward everyone, the selfless way she had of helping those in need, her wit and cleverness...the heart of an angel encased in a bewitching body. When that terrible battle in India was over, all he could think about was her. All he wanted was to hold her in his arms.

  He’d lost her once. He’d be damned before he let her slip away again.

  He moved away from her to sit back against the wall, resting his forearm over his bent knee and keeping plenty of distance between them. She smelled too good of lavender, felt too soft and warm— If he’d stayed next to her like that, he’d seduce her right here in the hay and prove himself to be the rake she’d accused him of being.

  “The summer when I returned from university and saw the woman you’d become, I wasn’t prepared for that,” he explained as she sat up and drew her legs beneath her, pieces of straw clinging to her deliciously rumpled hair and that man’s coat which would have looked absurd on any other woman. On Faith, it only magnified her unconventional personality. Just one more trait he adored about her. “You’d always been nothing more to me than a friend, and I thought that was exactly where I could keep you.” He blew out a deep breath. “I was wrong. That first kiss changed everything.”

  Even from three feet away, he could feel her catch her breath, so alert was he to every move she made.

  “All my life I ran from responsibility. I was expected to behave like a peer from the time I was a child, so I did everything I could to prove I wasn’t respectable. Getting expelled from school, drinking and gambling—”

  “Whoring,” she interjected, none too kindly.

  “That, too.” He grimaced. “So of course I had no plans for a respectable life. Which was why I joined the army, because it was the last thing anyone expected.” His gaze softened on her. “And I certainly didn’t expect you, Faith.”

  “Me?” The word was a throaty purr that swept through him like a warm breeze.

  “You’d turned into a woman without anyone noticing. Beautiful and beguiling...and I had no idea what to do with you.” She looked away in embarrassment, and he resisted the urge to reach for her. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with you, and none of it was respectable.”

  Her surprised gaze darted back to him, and embarrassment flushed her cheeks.

  Pleasure spread through him at her reaction. She wouldn’t blush like that if she didn’t have feelings for him, no matter how much she denied them.

  “Do you know how hard it was to kiss you, Faith, then walk away? Do you have any idea how great a temptation you were?” He shook his head, remembering those confused and dark days, when the only bright light in his life was Faith. “But marriage to anyone back then, even to you, would have felt like a trap. So I kept my distance.”

  Her lips parted delicately in surprise. For once, he’d stunned her speechless.

  “Until now.” He pushed himself away from the wall and crawled toward her, until he was once again poised over her. “Now I’ve returned a better man, all because of you, Faith.”

  Then he lowered his head and kissed her thoroughly, tasting the strawberry and chocolate that still lingered there. More—he could taste her desire for him, and he thrilled with it.

  He cupped her face against his palm to hold her mouth steady beneath his as he plundered the kiss and thrust his tongue between her lips in a heated promise of what pleasures he could give her if she let him. And not only physical ones. He would give her a home and family, keep her safe, and do whatever he could to make her happy and their lives filled with laughter.

  “I want you, my darling,” he whispered as he slowly lowered himself until his body covered hers, not slowing in the kisses he scattered across her cheeks, eyes, and lips. “All of you, from now until I take my last breath.”

  This was what had filled his dreams during those long, lonely years in India...the possibility of holding Faith in his arms, tasting the sweetness of her lips, letting the joy of being with her cascade through him. But those dreams paled in comparison to the reality of her, and he was more certain about his love for her than he’d ever been about anything else in his life.

  “Marry me, Faith,” he whispered against her lips, longing for her to kiss her reply to him.

  But when her answer came, the single word tore through him like a slashing blade— “No.�


  She pushed herself out from under him and scrambled to her feet. As she stepped away, he pursued and closed the distance between them until her back hit against the wall. Then he took another step, trapping her in place.

  He lowered his head until their faces were even, his eyes locked onto hers. “Why not?” he demanded, fighting down his frustration and the fresh fear of losing her again. Even now, he trembled with it.

  “You know why,” she whispered, blinking hard at the tears glistening in her eyes.

  His gut knotted guiltily at the sight. Damnation. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  “I truly don’t,” he assured her softly. He reached to stroke his knuckles across her cheek, but she turned her face away. “Is it Mary Halstead? Getting married will end all the rumors, you said so yourself. We’ll face down the gossips together.” He stiffened as a terrible new thought struck. “Or is this about the viscountess? I told you—nothing happened.”

  “No.” A ragged shudder passed through her. “It has nothing to do with them.”

  Relief surged through him at her declaration, and he leaned toward her until their two bodies nearly touched. “Then why not, Faith?”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head, refusing to answer.

  “I know you like me,” he drawled. “We’ve always gotten along well.” He shifted forward, finally bringing himself against her, and he felt her catch her breath at the contact. “And I can feel how much you enjoy my kisses, so it can’t be that.”

  He captured her mouth beneath his. Despite her protests that she didn’t want to marry him, she leaned into him and met the hunger in his kiss, returning the embrace with a need that matched his own. Whatever her reason for refusing him, it wasn’t a lack of desire, and his chest swelled with a mix of relief, hope, and love. More love for her than he ever thought possible.

  Unable to resist touching her, he trailed his hand down the side of her body and over the curves that even the draping coat couldn’t hide. She moaned softly as his hand cupped her breast and began to caress her through the coat and all the other layers beneath, layers he desperately wanted to strip away. How she could feel anything through all that he had no idea, nor did he care when she gave over to her pleasure and arched her back to press herself harder against his hand.

 

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