Seven Rogues for Christmas: A Historical Romance Holiday Collection

by Dawn Brower

  "Well, well, where has Winterbourne been hiding you, strumpet?"

  Chapter 8

  Edmund carried a glass of punch as he returned to the small balcony where he'd left Jess. He replayed the evening in his mind. Her reactions to the ball, the joy in her expression as they danced, the look of overwhelming panic after their waltz. Having her in his arms on the dance floor gave him a glimpse of the woman beneath the exterior of a common innkeeper's wife. Her eyes glittered with merriment, her cheeks flushed from exertion. It fixed an alarming image in his mind, one that was cemented by her sigh of contentment as they stepped out onto the balcony. The thought of Jess beneath him as he drove into her, teasing her with his mouth and his fingers, made him hard.

  Clearing his throat, he stepped through the door leading to the balcony. He dropped the glass at the sight of Jess pinned against the wall, a shadowed figure trailing his tongue along her neck. Fury raged in his veins, boiling to the point of physical pain.

  "Get your damned hands off of her," he growled as he clapped a hand on the intruder who dared touch what belonged to him.

  The man yelped as Edmund threw him off of Jess. He stepped in front of her and watched the coward climb to his feet.

  "Damn it all, Winterbourne." The man straightened and brushed off his jacket. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. How can you expect anything less when you bring a tasty morsel such as her to a feast?"

  Edmund shook his head. "Still can't keep your hands occupied with your own wife, Morgan. After that incident with the Forsythe chit, I'm surprised you'd been invited at all."

  Morgan shook his fist. "Keep going, Winterbourne, and I'll tell them you've brought a whore into their house."

  Closing the gap between them, Edmund grasped Morgan by the shirt and lifted him off the ground. "I'd expect nothing less of the rat who'd sell his own mother for a quick tumble." He dropped the man. "Get out of my sight."

  Morgan stumbled away, fixing his shirt and cravat while mumbling beneath his breath. He shot a scowl at Edmund before disappearing into the ballroom.

  Edmund turned to Jess. Her eyes remained downcast as she rocked back and forth, her arms crossed. He brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face and pulled her into his embrace. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  "Thank you," she murmured into his jacket.

  He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes were dry, but he saw the uncertainty swimming in their depths. Damn Morgan for cornering her. He shouldn't have left her alone. She trembled in his arms. The wind picked up, encircling them with its chill.

  "Follow me." Edmund took her hand and led her back into the ballroom. Once inside, he placed her hand on his arm and allowed his gaze to sweep over her. Even after such an ordeal, she presented a composed front. Her hair and mask seemed to be in good order. She betrayed no outward signs of her inner turmoil, but he felt the tightening of her hand on his arm as it trembled. They swiftly moved along the perimeter of the room. Upon reaching the hall, he located the study and slipped inside the door pulling her into the room behind him.

  "What are we doing here?" Her voice echoed her awe as she glanced around the room. The deep, rich fabrics and dark, solid furnishings reflected the expensive tastes of the owner. Her gaze traveled across the room as he closed the door behind them.

  Quickly moving toward the desk, he shifted through the drawers, knowing exactly what he was looking for. He'd seen it the night they'd taken the jewels. Edmund pulled open a drawer and flipped through the stack of papers. A seal caught his eye, and he snatched the receipt from the pile and tucked it into his jacket pocket. When he glanced up, he frowned at the sight greeting him.

  Jess stood with her hands firmly planted on her hips with a look of supreme disappointment on her face. "You are nothing more than a thief!"

  He closed the drawer and stepped around the desk. "That would make you my accomplice, would it not?" Edmund grinned when she sputtered and snapped her mouth shut. He closed the distance between them, and she backed away instinctively. Her sparkling blue eyes blinked beneath the mask, which only enhanced their lovely charm. He approached until she collided with the bookcase. Bracing his hands on the shelves behind her, he boxed her there.

  Edmund watched as the crimson blush stole from across her chest, crept up her neck, and stained her cheeks. Her hands flattened against his chest as if in a futile attempt to push him away.

  "Let me go." The words lacked the power to do anything more than make him grin. She narrowed her gaze at him. "I've no wish to be a part of your crimes."

  Leaning close, he whispered in her ear ensuring the caress of his breath against her sensitive skin. "Like it or not, my sweet, you're as much a criminal as I am." He touched his tongue to her earlobe and smiled when she gasped.

  "You're a wicked man, Lord Winterbourne."

  He pressed his lips to the spot just below her ear. She whimpered as he raked his teeth against her skin. "Being wicked has its benefits."

  Her hands fisted in his coat. "Edmund...stop..." She panted the words between gasping breaths as he suckled and nipped along the skin of her neck. "Someone...will...find...us..." A moan tore from her throat as he slipped lower and traced the exposed skin of her chest with his tongue.

  "A dalliance at a masquerade isn't unheard of." He turned her in his arms, and she gripped the shelves, bracing herself as he pressed against her from behind. Damn that bustle. He swore as he slid his hands up her waist to cup her breasts through the fabric. Edmund wanted to tease her, to drive her to the point of madness. Being near her distracted him. Perhaps if he actually bedded her he might be able to regain some of his sanity. Her head fell back as he slid a hand into her bodice, filling his palm with her warm breast.

  "We...I can't..." She shook her head as if trying to convince herself of something. He pinched her nipple between his fingers. "Edmund!"

  He grasped her chin in his other hand and kissed her jaw. The click of the door opening echoed through the room. Edmund slipped his hand from her bodice and slowly moved as to shield her from the person entering the room.

  A young man stood in the doorway and glanced at Edmund, a sudden wave of embarrassment crossing his face. "My apologies, I had not realized someone was here." He slipped from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Edmund glanced at Jess. She stood with her arms crossed, her body trembling. Raking a hand through his hair, he exhaled sharply. I'm no better than Morgan. He brushed a curl away from her face.

  Jess' gaze snapped up to meet his. He'd expected regret and tears but saw only desire, hot and fierce, burning in her eyes. Had that lad not intervened, he'd have taken her right there in the study. He cleared his throat, uncertain he wanted to examine his actions much longer.

  "Fix your mask," he said as he straightened his cravat and coat. Edmund moved toward the door and opened it for her. They exited the study and wandered in the direction of the ballroom where the music wafted up amidst the chatter of the guests.

  She walked beside him, but they did not touch. Keeping her eyes forward and her chin up, Jess once again pasted on the perfect mask of elegance. Had he not known her origins, he would have assumed her to be of noble blood.

  Once they arrived at the front door, he collected their garments and helped her don her cloak. They descended the front steps and located their carriage. She took his hand only to step into the conveyance. The entire journey to his home, neither of them spoke a single word. Her attention remained fixed on the world beyond the carriage glass.

  Edmund waited until they returned to his home to speak. "Go to your room."

  Without so much as a glance at him, she ascended the staircase. He watched her quiet grace in swaying blue satin until she disappeared into her room. At the click of the door, he jerked his cravat free and entered his study. Pouring a glass of brandy, he stared into the fire.

  He could handle her irate words and scathing rebukes. The raging and fighting, he could u
nderstand. Edmund downed the liquid, letting it burn a path to his gut. Her refusal to look at him, to acknowledge his presence irked him. He poured another drink. But the silence drove a wedge so deep into his soul he feared it would shatter what remained of his control.

  "Why should I even care?" he murmured, dropping into his chair. Once her debt is paid, she'll no longer be any concern of mine. The unspoken thought lingered in his mind. He shook his head and slipped the paper from his pocket.

  Receipt of Purchase for one sapphire and diamond necklace. He scanned the receipt and then took another drink. The necklace she was wearing when she vanished from your summer gala. This would lead him to her; he felt it deep in his bones.

  His thoughts drifted to Jess and the sweet taste of her skin, the cries of pleasure that had spilled from her lips at his touch. Edmund swore and pushed the thoughts aside. He had work to do. Tucking the receipt in his pocket again, he stood and finished the liquor in his glass. Enough with the pretty, blue-eyed distraction, I have a mission to accomplish.

  Chapter 9

  Jess stared out the front window watching the carriages and bustling city outside. A lovely park lay across the street, and she longed to go for a walk. The sun slowly set against the buildings. Another day gone...where was he? She sighed as she leaned against the glass. It had been three days since the masquerade ball, since she'd last spoken to Edmund. The morning after the ball she'd found Anna grinning down at her when she woke.

  As the maid helped her dress, she had explained her master's orders. He'd given explicit instructions to allow Jess to have free rein of the house, but she was not allowed her to leave the property under any circumstances. Still a prisoner, but a part of her heart remained grateful for the freedom no matter how miniscule.

  After the first day, she knew the entire layout of the house and every servant's name. She even joined them for supper in the kitchen when Edmund did not return. That evening she'd spent reading in the small library curled up before the fire and sipping wine. Never had she had the time or the inclination for such decadence, but with nothing to occupy her hands, she'd needed to find something to distract her mind. She'd tried to offer her help to the servants, but they stared at her in horror while trying to assure her that they had everything under control.

  The second day progressed much as the first. By dawn on the third morning, Jess could no longer take the idleness. She had marched into the kitchen and requested to make something special for the servants. While the cook quietly relented, probably in anticipation of her failure, the rest of the servants tried to dissuade her. They watched amazed as she took to baking like a fish takes to a cool mountain stream. The servants had no idea who she was or where she'd come from, but they were in awe of her comfort in the kitchen.

  The morning had been spent in levity and companionship, something Jess had craved over the last several days. After consuming most of the delicious treats they'd made together, Jess found herself drawn to the front window and the hustle of the city outside. London. Her entire life passed without even a glimpse of the wonders contained within these streets. Half curiosity, half homesick, she sat watching the world through a glimmering pane of glass.

  The front door closed with a thud. Jess heard the rustle of feet on carpet in the entryway. Murmured voices met her ears as she strained to listen. Edmund appeared in the doorway, and Jess clenched her fists in the cushion beneath her to keep from jumping up to greet him. Get it together. You're not a faithful hound, and he is most assuredly not your master.

  His gaze narrowed as he leaned against the doorframe. Jess turned her back to him, returning her gaze to the darkening street. He'd ignored her for three days. She certainly wasn't going to be the first to initiate a conversation or throw herself at his feet. The soft tap of his shoes on the floor echoed as he came closer. A shiver slid down her limbs as he paused behind her. The heat from his body seeped into the back of her gown.

  "Go upstairs and dress."

  "I am dressed." The command made her bristle, but she refused to budge.

  He exhaled sharply. "Obstinate," he mumbled beneath his breath.

  She heard the exasperation in his tone and crossed her arms. Jess hadn't realized she'd missed the timbre of his voice. Her heart slowed as if attempting complete silence to allow his voice to embrace her fully.

  "Go upstairs and put on an evening gown." He hesitated for a moment then added, "Please."

  Her head snapped around. His grey eyes glimmered in the lamplight as he stared down at her. "What did you just say?"

  His lips thinned, and he cocked his head. "Don't tempt my patience." He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. Leaning close, his lips brushed the delicate shell. "Quickly, before I change my mind."

  Jess licked her lips and nodded, barely able to keep her thoughts in any organized coherent pattern. His proximity wreaked havoc on her senses. Since their kiss and the subsequent silence, she'd hoped the painful ache at his absence was merely the consequence of being ripped from her home and thrown into a new situation. She pressed her hand to her heart. Alas, the ache moved from a pain in her chest to a desire simmering through her body. Jess could not deny her attraction to him any longer, even if he acted like a brutish cad and treated her like a lowly servant.

  She slipped from the window seat and brushed past him. He did not reach for her and said nothing else, but when she glanced back at him, his eyes blazed with heat and determination. Swallowing any trepidation, she ran up the stairs and into her room before she made a fool of herself.

  A soft knock echoed moments later. Jess opened the door to find Anna holding a lovely crimson and gold gown. She watched with wide eyes as the maid laid the garment on the bed. What adventure does Edmund have in store this evening?

  Chapter 10

  The opera house loomed before them. Edmund smiled a bit at the sharp intake of breath from the woman on his arm. When he glanced at her, he gritted his teeth against the surge of lust that bolted through him. Her painted lips hung open in awe as she took in every detail. The foyer buzzed with chatter and commotion as they wove through the crowd. He led her up a staircase and down a hallway. Drawing the curtains aside, he motioned for her to enter the small, reserved balcony. Her bright eyes darted back and forth, drinking in the ambiance and rich, vibrant colors.

  He'd been to the opera many times. Frankly, it bored him. But tonight it had been worth the inconvenience if only to see her reaction to what he had always classified as the mundane. Experiencing the world through her eyes proved to be an adventure. One he hadn't expected.

  Jess sat and glanced over the railing. Her look of sheer joy stole his breath. He sat down next to her and crossed his arms. His eyes never moved from her. When she turned to him, his heart slammed in his chest and his cock twitched. He pushed away both unwelcome reactions and focused on the blinding smile on her lips. He'd thought seeing her happy would make him uncomfortable. Never had he expected the gentle pull of affection toward her. Edmund frowned at the thought and shoved the feelings aside.

  Noting his frown, Jess leaned closer, her breath brushing his cheek. "Can I ask why we're here?" Her smile wobbled a bit. "Are you planning on stealing something else?"

  He heard the teasing in her voice but also picked up the subtle warning in her expression. Edmund scoffed. "Careful, my pet, you still haven't fulfilled your debt to me." He rested his hand on her thigh. "Unless you've changed your mind." His grin cemented the image, and she scowled at him.

  "Find another woman more interested in conceding to your lascivious ways." Jess turned her attention back to the crowd beneath them.

  Edmund's gaze traveled from her shoulder, up the curve of her neck, and stopped as her frown slowly transformed into an awestruck o of delight. He sighed inwardly and tapped his fingertips on the top of his cane. His reaction had been rude, but if he hadn't pushed her away with his words, she may have seen though his carefully crafted façade.

  He'd nearly told her
the truth. The opera, the gown, the lavish dinner...they served no purpose other than to bring her pleasure. When he'd seen her curled up in the window seat staring into the street with a nearly palpable longing, he realized how much he wanted to see her smile, to see the look of wonder as he had at the ball when she danced.

  The impulsive action reaped the intended reward. As the lights dimmed and the opera began, his gaze ventured no farther than the small balcony where they sat. Watching her brought him joy. The thought slammed into him with the force of a bullet, tearing into his carefully guarded flesh. He clutched his cane harder.

  Laughter filled the room and hers rang clear and true above the rest. He frowned. This would only be a complication. He had spent those three fruitless days talking to Simon's men as they searched for information concerning the sale of the jewels. The shop owner knew nothing of the gem's history. A man had sold the jewels to him for a tidy sum and disappeared. None of his contacts could garner any information beyond that. He tapped his fingers on the cane and watched Jess' lips curve into a smile exposing a perfect row of teeth.

  As the opera came to a close, Edmund stood and offered his arm. The gentle pressure of her hand on his arm filled him with a warring sense of both fulfillment and need.

  "Thank you." Her murmured words caused him to glance at her soft, delicate face.

  Edmund cleared his throat as if trying to dislodge the uncomfortable emotion burning in his chest. With a nod, he led her from the box and out into the crisp night air. After helping her into the carriage, he sat across from her and stared out the window. For once in his life, Edmund found himself unable to find the right words, so he allowed the silence to stretch between them. Why did this woman affect him so? She challenged him at every turn, irritated him beyond tolerance, and still he could not help but long for her company.