At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)

“I wonder what brought her out at this hour, in this dreadful weather?” Dariell’s tone carried a hint of amusement. “Well, is she to catch her death of cold or will you permit her to come in?”

Miles wasn’t sure if he could trust himself with the lady, not while she was in such a state of dishabille. But he couldn’t very well leave her outside in the rain.

He stepped forward and their gazes locked. The power of it hit him hard in the chest, harder than any punch he’d received from Dariell. Fate had brought them together. He could feel nature’s force vibrating in the air. Nothing could prevent their inevitable union.

“You are drawn to her, monseigneur,” Dariell said softly. “Miss Lovell, she is your raison d’être.”

“My what?” Miles cast his friend a sidelong glance.

“Whether you know it or not, she is your reason for being.”

Dariell’s comment did more than wash over Miles. It penetrated his skin, seeped into his bones. And there lay the truth of it. Could a man fall in love within minutes of meeting a woman? Could he surrender his heart when he hardly knew her? It didn’t make sense to him, and yet a woman he had known for days had suddenly become his world.

Since that first meeting at the gate, he’d known Miss Lovell was special, known that somehow their destinies were entwined. But these emotions went beyond anything he could comprehend. They went beyond anything he’d ever felt before.

Miles shook his head in an effort to focus on the matter at hand and caught a glimpse of Miss Lovell’s nightdress as she hurried down the terrace steps.

“Ah, she does not know what she means to you,” Dariell said as Miles raced to the doors. “The voices in her head tell her it cannot be. Yet it is what our Persian friends call kismet. Go to her—go!”

Despite the rain and his lack of clothing, Miles threw open the door and rushed down the steps in pursuit. Thunder crashed overhead. It wasn’t safe outdoors. Miles stared through the downpour and across the lawn at the spectre-like figure racing ahead.

Where the hell was she going?

“Miss Lovell,” he called out to her. “Wait.”

What was she running from? Why risk coming to the manor at night, and in such a state of undress only to bolt? What had happened at Dunnam Park to make her leave so suddenly? A hot ball of anger filled his chest. If that dandy had laid a hand on her—

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“Lydia!”

Hearing her given name, she glanced back over her shoulder. The sudden movement made her stumble. She slipped on the wet grass, lost her balance and arms flailing hit the ground hard.

“Lydia.” Miles reached her in seconds. The sight of her pallid skin, blue lips, the dirt and scratches covering her bare feet took him aback. He tried to ignore the way the wet material clung to her breasts, tried to ignore the pert nipples pressing for his attention. “Why are you running?”

She gasped and fought to catch her breath. “I—I don’t know.” Raindrops trickled down her cheek, or perhaps they were tears, he could not tell. Her shoulders shook from the cold. “I thought you might … you might …”

“That I might what?” A loud rumble and a sudden crack in the night sky drew his gaze heavenward. “Come, let us get out of the storm. We can talk inside.” It was then he noticed the trickle of blood running from a cut on her heel. Anger flared again when he thought of what she’d suffered to reach him.

“I do not wish to intrude.” Another whimper escaped as she tried to prevent any tears falling. “It was foolish of me to come. You … you’re busy with Dariell.”

“I am never too busy to see you.” He bent down, and ignoring her protests, gathered her in his arms and drew her tightly to his chest.

Oh, merciful Lord. Holding her so close … the feel of her body … he could lose his mind.

“No, don’t. I can walk. Put me down.” For fear of falling she clung to his neck.

“You’ll not walk another step until I’ve examined your feet.” Miles strode back to the house. The tempting woman in his arms wriggled, her cold hands trailing over his neck and shoulders as she tried to find comfort in her position. “Please,” Miles begged as his cock pulsed with need. “Thread your arms around my neck and keep them there.”

“I … I didn’t know where else to go.” Her voice lacked the confidence he’d come to expect, and yet he found her vulnerability just as beguiling. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did the right thing coming here.” Curiosity burned. But he suspected he would struggle to control his temper when he learnt the truth. “You need a warm bath and a hot meal, and then you can tell me what brought you here tonight.”

“Thank you.” Her simple words tugged at his heart.

As he walked towards the house her head came to rest on his shoulder, and a relieved sigh left her lips. The need to cherish and protect her burst through him like a firework at Vauxhall. Woe betide anyone who hurt her again. She was his. He’d known it the instant he laid eyes on her. Perhaps the need to wreak vengeance was not the primary reason for his return. Perhaps this tempting beauty had called him home, and Fate set him on his course.

Miles mounted the terrace steps with ease, kicked the door open a little wider with his foot and strode into the ballroom.