At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)
Page 53
He couldn’t help but think she was glad. While her family had designs on her marrying Lord Randall, Miss Lovell had other plans. And he had a burning desire to know what they were.
“They say you’re my mistress,” he said. “Apparently, the devil is renowned for seducing innocent maidens.” There was some truth to the gossip. They were intimately acquainted—delightfully so. “But I shouldn’t worry. My brother Edwin started the rumour and by threat of death will clear your name.”
“Your brother?” Miss Lovell appeared relieved. “Lady Lovell and Lord Randall suggested you were the one responsible.”
“Me?” Miles jerked his head back and pointed to his chest. He’d disliked the ponce the moment he saw him at the assembly. “What possible motive would I have for ruining your good name?”
“That was my thought. In their defence, they knew nothing of our little … interlude. Knew nothing of your brother’s vicious attack. Therefore, they drew what seemed the obvious conclusion.”
Miles listened though could not resist the urge to comment on her description of their amorous affair. “You say little as if you regret what happened between us, as if it bears no significance.”
A pink blush stained her cheeks. “Not at all.” She glanced at the ground but then looked him directly in the eye. “And what of you? Do … do you regret kissing me?”
“I think you’ll find you kissed me first.”
Affronted, she sucked in a breath. “I did not.”
“Yes. You did. You kissed me on the cheek. You placed your palm on my bare chest and thanked me for my assistance.” His persistence stemmed from an eagerness to force a confession. To discover what their passionate exchange meant to her.
“I—I …” She frowned. “But you were wea
ring a shirt.”
“A shirt?”
“Yes.”
“I think you’re mistaken.”
“I’m not. I clearly remember.”
“Though you wished I wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t what?”
“Wearing a shirt.”
“Yes.” She floundered, confused. “I mean no.”
“Which is it, Miss Lovell?” A smile formed, and he fought to suppress it. “Yes or no?”
“You’re trying to twist my words.”
“Not at all. But you want me to.”
“Twist my words?”
“No. Kiss you again.”
“Of course.” Her eyes widened, and she plastered her hand to her mouth in shock.
“Is covering your mouth a way of telling me you’ve changed your mind, or am I to kiss your glove and not those sweet lips?”
She gulped. Her hand slipped to her neck and came to rest on her chest. “Why do you tease me so?”
“Tease you? Miss Lovell, I think about kissing you every minute of the day. Trust me. When it comes to rousing your passion, I have every intention of following through on my promise.”
Had she no interest in pursuing the matter, she would have reprimanded him for his conduct. Indeed, what she said next would prove extremely telling.