Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

Indeed, Robby had a point. Ryker had expected the family to be greedy, grasping and insincere. It was what he had thus far encountered when there was a chit of marriageable age being thrust at him.

Instead, Jewelene Henshaw was like no other female of his acquaintance. She didn’t seem to have any interest in the man she believed to be the wealthy marquis. It was obvious the Henshaw family was in need of a desirable match, since he could see from the lack of servants and the state of the grounds that all was not well. In fact, he believed the Henshaws were in dire straits.

This troublesome thought had plagued him during dinner, which had turned out to be surprisingly more fun than he had had in quite some time. It was informal and lively, with banter on many subjects exchanged throughout and without restraint. The food was simple but tasteful. Jewelene and her brother were amiable, as was their sweet cousin Elizabeth in her gentle fashion, and Ryker found that he liked this family immensely.

Hence, all he need do was say his farewells and be on his way. It would solve the problem he had, for he no longer had any wish to continue the wager with his cousin and flirt up Jewelene to prove a point.

However, he didn’t want to leave. He was perpetrating a lie from which he would have no easy way to extract himself, and yet he wanted to stay. He wished he could extricate himself from the situation, because he discovered he desperately wanted to start over. The moment he had looked up and seen Jewelene’s unselfconscious entrance at the top of the stairs earlier that evening, he knew he wasn’t ready to leave.

He had felt a wave of shock tingle through his body as he watched her graceful descent. In her buckskins she had been something of a hoyden—a beauty, but a wild thing that looked as though she needed a bit of taming, and the notion had excited him.

This evening she had stood at the head of the stairs in a velvet gown of sea green. The color had enhanced the green of her eyes. Her honey-colored hair was caught at the top of her head by a green ribbon and fell in ringlets all about her head. Her movements were almost ethereal, and it was a difficult thing, indeed, to associate her with the roughly clothed wildcat of the afternoon. To his surprise, he found he liked both sides of her.

He saw before him the naughty child transformed into a regal goddess and felt his dick pulse within his breeches!

He found himself looking at her more than he should, and that was another thing that surprised him. He was used to having beauties thrown at him. He had had his share of lovelies in his bed, but this one captured his imagination. He felt almost enchanted by everything she said and did.

She, on the other hand, did not seem interested in him or Robby at all. If anything she seemed happy enough to encourage her cousin’s friendship with Robby, whom she believed to be the wealthy marquis. How very odd was that?

As she smiled and approached him he felt a certain burning in his blood, and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the swells of her full breasts. His eyes then took the path up her neck, past her lovely chin, and found her exquisite lips. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at those lips and imagining them opening for his tongue. He was acting like a schoolboy …

“And here you stand—aloof to all, sir.” She sighed and said boldly, “Shall I dispense with the formalities and call you Ryker?” Her eyes twinkled with merriment, and he was hard put to it to do anything but stare into their depths.

He thought as he spoke that a less experienced man would have been forever enslaved by that saucy look of hers. He chuckled and answered, “Yes, do, Miss Henshaw—call me Ryker. I like the sound of my name on your lips.” She obviously enjoyed shocking with her direct approach. He would give her as good as she gave.

“Well then, you must reciprocate the favor and call me Jewelene.” She appeared to be enjoying herself immensely as she wagged her finger.

He took hold of it and put it to his lips. “Done, Jewelene—it is,” he said on a husky note and had the satisfaction of watching her lashes flicker. He had gotten to her at last. He had meant to, and something strong and hot took over his mind so that he had a difficult time releasing her finger.

She tried to recoup her composure; though her lashes fluttered, a pink color infused her cheeks as she said, “Ah, but don’t stop there. You must tell me about yourself. We know so little about you, other than the fact that you are the marquis’ cousin.”

She had tried to speak casually, but he heard a tremor in her voice, and it excited him beyond his imagination. “There is really very little about me worth the knowing,” he said evasively. He suddenly wanted to tell her that he was the marquis, that he could take her to places she had only dreamt of going to, that he was the one …

What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He was behaving as though … and he didn’t behave that way. He was an experienced lover and knew well to stay clear of chits who had not yet cut their teeth!

Damn, but he had set himself up for trouble with this game of switched identities. Why had he not foreseen the complications involved? Why had he not seen that the deception might turn ugly? This was a lovely family—she was an innocent beauty—and his lie suddenly shamed him. He had to find a way out of it.

She laughed. “So deep in thought, Ryker? And I am sure there is a great deal about you worth the knowing. For example, I see from your excellently cut and well fitted clothes that you are not only a man of fashion, but a Corinthian as well—probably an amateur pugilist …”

“Very astute.” He grinned.

“And from your knowledge of ho

rseflesh, which you displayed earlier, I would also say you are an accomplished whip—am I wrong?”

“I do like my horses and have an eye … if that is what you mean,” he acceded carefully.

“Ah, your eyes tell me you are holding back. I wonder, what secrets do you hide in that mysterious brain?” she teased.

Ryker was taken aback. What did she know? How could she know anything? He stared hard at her a moment before he realized she was only at play. “Secrets?” he teased back with a shrug. “What secrets could I have?”

“May I?” she said, taking up his hand. It was an idle gesture, and yet he felt a shiver rush up his arm. Idiot, he silently berated himself as she softly said, “Palm reading, sir—you know it tells all.”

“Very well, then. Have at me.” He was enjoying himself immensely. Had circumstances been otherwise, he would have liked to take this tantalizing pretty to his bed. But that was out of the question. She was obviously untried, and he had no intention of ruining a virgin, even though this one—ah, this one tried his soul.

“Aha! Your lifeline spells longevity and more … you see these little strokes that criss-cross …?” she asked, pointing with dramatic affect as she was making it up as she went along. “These speak of the chances you like to take. You are a very secretive but bold man, Ryker, and yes, you enjoy breaking rules …”

“Do I? You should know, pretty Jewelene …” he teased and once again was enchanted by her blush.