Seven Rogues for Christmas: A Historical Romance Holiday Collection

by Dawn Brower

  “Yes.” He cupped her other cheek and gingerly cradled her face in his hands. A quick glance down the shore confirmed they were still alone. “Phoebe?”

  “Yes, Cecil?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. She darted the tip of her tongue out and wet her bottom lip.

  His pulse pounded in his temples and thundered in his ears. Never had he been so nervous or as excited or as full of desire as he was now. Yes, he’d kissed other women before in his lifetime, had even dallied with a couple of them years ago, but this was different. Phoebe was different. What he was about to attempt—about to suggest after he claimed a proper kiss— was pure madness. “Will you please grant permission for me to kiss you?”

  “You already did.” Her voice shook as she held his gaze. Questions and an invitation lingered in those blue depths.

  “I mean a proper, mind-numbing, leave-you-senseless, show-you-how-I-feel, deuced proper kiss,” he explained and drew the pad of a thumb along the plump flesh of her bottom lip.

  She shuddered and briefly closed her eyes. “Actually,” the tendons in her neck worked with a hard swallow. “I believe that would be the next logical step.”

  Chapter 6

  Phoebe feared her knees would fail to support her as she held Cecil’s deep brown gaze. Brandy flecks swam in those depths, each one adding to the mystery of the man himself.

  The touch of his hands on her face and the warmth of his fingers on her skin did strange things to her insides. She forgot about the chill in the air, the coolness of the water, the fact anyone could come upon them, and she trembled in his hold, but he didn’t move. Instead, he stared into her eyes; his roiled with heat and promise, and she shivered again with anticipation. “I believe I gave you permission to kiss me.” A kiss that would no doubt be soul-altering. “Have you changed your mind?” How brazen she’d become since meeting him. The thought provoked a smile. Perhaps that wasn’t the worst thing. It had been a long time since she’d felt vital and needed as a woman and not merely for her skills as a mother or a headmistress.

  Bloody hell, but she wanted—needed—that promised kiss.

  “Oh Phoebe.” He dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead and her heart squeezed. “No. I haven’t changed my mind.” His soft words sent spikes of need down her spine and sailing into her core. His sensual mouth curved upward with a grin. “I was simply enjoying sharing this moment with you. It’s as if we’re standing on the precipice of something wonderful and exciting. There will be no turning back.” He lowered his voice even though they were alone. “And I want more than just a kiss.”

  The frantic trip of her heartbeat marked the time. “I want that too.” Dear Lord, please don’t let me make a fool of myself or do anything to compromise my position at the school.

  “Regardless of your reputation? For if you are worried, I won’t do anything to compromise you.” His expression sobered. “I think too much of you for that.”

  A piece of her heart went into his keeping. “We are old enough to be discreet.” She ignored the chill of the surf pushing against her calves. How silly she must look, holding her skirts out of the water while he cradled her with a very intimate gesture, their bodies barely touching. But her silly heart trembled from his words and his erotic intent. For one fleeting moment, she let herself hope in the magic of such things and where they might lead. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit, Cecil. You’re a romantic.” How refreshing to find a man who thought thusly.

  “Perhaps I am. But truly, at this moment, my mind is not on romance. I’m very much fixated on plundering your sweet mouth.” Then he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

  If Phoebe thought she’d been prepared for his overture, she was sadly mistaken. This kiss was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. His lips, so warm and firm against hers, sent tingles through her body, and she forgot to hold her skirts out of the water. Instead, she gripped his shoulders as he pulled her closer even as he broke the kiss and peered into her face. “Why did you stop?” She hadn’t wanted to separate from him so soon. And definitely not until she’d tasted her fill of him.

  “I don’t want to scare you away.” He said it with such reverence her heart skipped a beat.

  “Silly man, I’m made of much sterner stuff.” A strong wave slapped her legs and bumped her more fully into his arms to land against his solid chest. “Oh, dear heavens.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” Cecil slid one hand to her waist but furrowed the other into her hair. He plucked the remaining pins from her wild tresses and claimed her lips again.

  Phoebe sighed and leaned—nay, melted—into him as he gently kissed her. When he nibbled at one corner then drew his tongue along the seam of her lips, a host of butterflies broke out in her belly. Tingles danced over her skin, and she slipped her arms around his neck, the fingers of one hand combing the silky hair at his nape. How much did she adore the solid, muscled feel of a man? She marveled at how well she fit into the circle of his arms and rejoiced at how welcoming and right those same arms felt holding her. With a boldness she could hardly believe, she returned the kiss.

  As she parted her lips, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth to tangle with hers. Tiny fires erupted through her bloodstream. Languid heat slid into her core. With a moan, she held him closer and explored the warm wonder that was his mouth, chased his tongue as if her life depended on winning that duel.

  Dear God, never had she felt like she’d shatter from a mere kiss. But then, Cecil wasn’t a mere man. She broke away only to pepper his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose with frantic pecks, and when he laughed and drew his lips along the side of her neck, she once more clung to him as if her bones had dissolved into pudding.

  “Cecil…” Her eyelashes fluttered when he licked and nibbled at the sensitive skin behind her earlobe.

  “Hmm?” The firm pressure of his hands at the curve of her buttocks and the insistent press of his burgeoning member into her stomach worked to drive her need to heightened frenzy.

  “We are…” Oh, bother. Desire rose within her and she shamelessly brushed her aching breasts against his chest. The movement didn’t assuage a bit of her want. Through the haze that had descended on her brain, one fact remained: they were not in private, and as much as she wished to burrow her hands beneath his clothing to explore his hard chest, she could not. “Cecil, we must desist.”

  Despite the urges of her body, the logical side of her brain intruded. They were out on the shore where anyone could come upon them, a bevy of young people were due to arrive at his house within the next few hours, her skirts were becoming heavier, wetter and colder by the minute, and she really didn’t need a romance to complicate her life at the moment, especially not to an adventurer such as Cecil. Though his pretty words of earlier had tickled her heart, she harbored a few qualms that he actually would stand by them in the event he wasn’t saddled with his niece any longer.

  I won’t give my heart to a man who doesn’t intend to remain in England.

  Not that there was anything more profound between them than the heated, erotic connection. With a sigh of regret, Phoebe pulled away from him. Without the warmth from his body, a shiver rippled up her spine. Her lips tingled and her breath was suspiciously labored, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “As kisses go, that was an acceptable attempt.” Oh, bother. That hadn’t been what she’d wished to say at all. “I meant to say, I rather enjoyed that kiss.” Her cheeks heated with the admission. “And I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance or something a bit more… tempting.” Dear heavens, that certainly wasn’t what I’d wished to say aloud!

  Cecil’s grin was as wide as hers as he stooped down and retrieved his boots once they’d both moved out of the surf. “Perhaps one or both requests can be arranged once the household settles.” The breeze ruffled his hair and threw it into helter skelter waves that begged for her fingers to tame. “Shall I escort you back to your shoes then? Unless you’d like to repeat the kiss now? It’s still rather early
for anyone else to walk the shores.” He cocked one of his eyebrows while his eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “Um, yes, I mean no. I mean, yes you can escort me, but no we shouldn’t kiss again. Yet.” The flush moved from her face down her neck and into her chest. A tremor of need rocked her core and she clenched her thighs together in an attempt to prolong the sweet sensation. What was it about the man that discomfited her so? And what did it say about her that she was in danger of becoming obsessed with him?

  “Seeing you at sixes and sevens pleases me. It means I’ve affected you more than you’re letting on. Confusion brought on by kissing looks like heaven on you.”

  “Such cheek,” she murmured, but she grinned nonetheless even as her body strained for his touch. This man was good for her psyche.

  “You wouldn’t want anything less.” He offered her his arm, and when she threaded her hand through his crooked elbow, he led her down the shore. “Also, as full disclosure, you’re a veritable siren with your hair down. Thank goodness for the wind who was of a like mind as me.”

  “I… I don’t know how to respond.” The pleasant flutters that tormented her belly during their kiss faded with every step that brought them closer to the townhouse. The likelihood of finding herself in his arms again was slim. I should have kissed him more just now. “How many young people are we expecting?” It was probably best to change the subject else she’d go mad with need for him. The flex of his muscle beneath her fingers reminded her of the way his arms had felt around her, and she fought off another shiver. “I’m hoping for not more than five.”

  “If I know Emily, she’s hinted to everyone she knows about this house party even though I specifically gave her a number of ten.” His laughter rumbled in his chest before it escaped into the air. “But this will be good for her and will take her mind off her mother for a while. And holidays are for gathering friends close. Thank you for suggesting it.”

  “You are quite welcome.” With her free hand, she attempted to tuck locks of hair behind her ear, but the wind whipped them about her face anyway.

  “Leave it free, Phoebe. You’re enchanting,” he murmured as they walked. “Would that I could delve my fingers through those strands.”

  Heat shot through her body once more. “Cecil, please.”

  “Please do such an erotic thing?” he teased with a bump of his hips. “Shall I whisk you away to a broom closet and have my wicked way with you?”

  Yes, definitely. She shook her head. “Behave. You act like a rogue.” What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t want him as much as I do.

  “Where is the fun in that, my dear?” But humor rang through his voice. “Perhaps in this instance I wish to be.”

  She smiled. Best keep them on course. “Have you thought about what you’ll do if her mother doesn’t return?” She hated to bring up sad topics so soon after the delicious things they’d shared, but it was always good to be prepared.

  “I’ll take Emily in permanently, of course. She is family.” He remained silent so long, Phoebe feared she might have offended him. Then, he sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Having her friends, both male and female, around will keep life and laughter in the house. Though Emily tries to hide it, but she’s lost some of the zest she had. Although, I suppose all they’ll want to do is spy on each other if the weather is warm enough for sea bathing, or run races down the middle of the street in the dead of night while tied at the ankle, or find any excuse to brush against each other.”

  “Can you blame them?” She took the initiative and bumped his hip. There were certain advantages of being a widow, after all. “Isn’t that why you walked the shore with me this morning and even kissed me?”

  Cecil cleared his throat. When she shot a glance his way, a slight tinge of red graced his face. “Perhaps, but that’s different. You and I are older. We know better and understand where such things might lead.”

  “Why is it different? Can we not feel a rush of feeling for another person despite our ages?” She was deliberately goading him, yet a tiny part of her wanted him to agree with her. “Are you under the impression that once the first, or even second, blush of youth passes, we cannot find pleasure in another’s company in a physical way?”

  “We can, but don’t you think it’s madness? We need to set a good example for Emily and her friends.”

  “We do, but I must say, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again if the conditions were right and we were alone.”

  “As long as the young people are not aware. I am many things, but I won’t provide further anxiety for my niece, despite our mutual regard.”

  “I see.” Then she was merely an object of dalliance when time permitted? Phoebe lifted an eyebrow. Mayhap she’d read the whole situation wrong. “Perhaps the idea of any other impromptu kisses should be stifled, in light of your statement. Why provide a temptation if the young set will look to us for guidance?” Cold disappointment circled through her insides, and she chastised herself for nearly falling for him. Of course he was right. They had to deny their base instincts for the greater good. After all, the kiss they shared was an aberration for them both. And she wasn’t here for flirtation or even a romance. She was here to oversee Emily until such time as a more permanent companion could be found.

  “Why indeed.” The words were dull and flat. They walked in silence for some time. Finally, he spoke again. “Tell me about your husband. You hinted that meeting him had been quite by accident. Were you not looking to wed at the time?”

  “It was an accident.” The memory tugged a smile from her and served as a distraction from the man beside her. “I was in London at the time, working as a history teacher in one of the schools there. He was a bookseller, and had lost his way on one of the streets. He’d only just arrived, you see, and when he rushed around a building, he ran right into me as I was conducting a tour of architecture with one of my classes.”

  “Do you make it a habit to crash headlong into the men you’ll eventually marry?”

  She sucked in a shallow breath. “I beg your pardon?” He’d proposed to her earlier but only as an excuse to talk alone with her. There was no love behind the request. When he didn’t comment further, she let it out. Did that mean he wanted to marry her and take on all that a union would entail or had he not been aware of what he’d said? Stop overthinking every little thing. Yet warmth lingered around her heart at the idea. “I do not crash into men on purpose. Perhaps it’s more a matter of the men in my life behaving recklessly and without manners.”

  “Or else, upon meeting you, every bit of common sense they’ve had flees and they can think of nothing except throwing all that they are into wooing you. And of inventing creative ways of finding themselves alone in your company.” Cecil kept his gaze focused straight ahead. “Regardless, pray continue. Was it love at first sight?” His voice sounded tight, guarded. Was it jealousy that roughened his words?

  She snorted with laughter and gave up trying to deny what she felt for him. “Hardly. I chastised him for his carelessness, gave him the direction of the lending library he needed then went on about my business. It wasn’t until later I realized I’d lost my reticule.” A grin pulled at her lips. “He brought it around to the school the next day since I’d carried a few calling cards inside with the name and address of that institution.”

  “Ah, then you were so grateful for the reticule’s return that you took pity on him and said yes to dinner?”

  “No. Honestly, I didn’t find him attractive in that way.” It might make her seem shallow or aloof, but it was the truth. “He asked, but I turned him down. Frank, being Frank, continued on. He visited the school every day without fail for two weeks, always with a flower or some other token gift.”

  A chuckle left Cecil’ throat. “In other words, he wore you down.”

  “Yes.”

  “You have to admire a man for his persistence.”

  “Perhaps.” She’d eventually given in and accepted an outing with him from
sheer exhaustion of refusing. “We courted for a year. After that, he asked for my hand since both of my parents are deceased.”

  “Let me guess.” He glanced at her with a sober expression. “You refused the first couple of times.”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I did, as a matter of fact. I was convinced I didn’t need a man in my life since I’d gotten along without one for so long, and that I needed a marriage even less.” She tightened her grip on his arm and rather enjoyed the flex of his muscles beneath her hand. “But, he was a dear sort, and a good man if a bit scatter-brained. I said yes because I did like spending time with him, and…”

  “Yes?”

  Good heavens, if she blushed any harder she’d need to run into the sea merely to save her life. Why, oh why, did she blurt out such a thing knowing she’d have to finish the thought, knowing that he wouldn’t let it go? Well, there was nothing for it. “I was curious about what went on in the marriage bed.”

  Cecil laughed long and loud. “I assume it was everything you dreamed it would be?”

  Despite herself, she joined in his laughter. “Mostly. He was everything polite and gentle in relations. But I’d wished there’d been more… excitement in our times together.” Stop talking!

  He bumped her hip with his. Tingles tripped up her spine and spread throughout her core. “My dear Phoebe, have you any clue how adorable you are, how very delicious?”

  “That is debatable, as I’ve already discussed with you.” She smiled nonetheless. Perhaps she wasn’t as silly as she suspected. These things were simply part of life as anything else.

  “Do you think you’ll ever marry again?”

  She looked at him, and the sharp interest in his dark eyes set her heart pounding. “I suppose I might if the right man were to ask.”

  “Well, I did already, you know.” He cocked a dark eyebrow.

  “That wasn’t in earnest.” Her pulse jumped another notch.