At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)

Dariell was sitting on the floor, his eyes closed, his legs crossed. “One cannot fight the will of the gods, monseigneur,” he whispered and then continued with his meditative prayers.

“You can put me down.” Miss Lovell’s breath breezed across his neck to stir the fine hairs at his nape. “I shall be fine now it’s warm and dry.”

But Miles didn’t stop or put her down. He wanted answers. He wanted privacy. And so he marched into the hall and climbed the grand staircase despite her questions and muttered protests.

“Where are you taking me?” Miss Lovell sounded curious but not the least bit frightened.

“To my bedchamber.”

“Your bedchamber? Why there?”

“Because the fire is lit, a warm bathtub awaits, and no one will disturb us.” And because Drake promised to return to the manor, and the man had a habit of barging in unannounced. But that was not the only reason. “Because I want to kiss you again if you’ll allow it, and prefer the comfort of a bed to a hard stone.”

“Oh.”

“If you’d rather I take you elsewhere, if you’d rather refrain from furthering the connection between us, then you must say so now.” Miles reached the double doors to his chamber and paused. “Well, Miss Lovell, what will it be?”

She raised her head. “You called me Lydia earlier. I rather liked it and give you permission to do so now.”

Struggling to rein in his desire, Miles said huskily, “And do you give your permission for anything else, Lydia?”

With some hesitance she met his gaze. Those dazzling blue eyes drew him deeper into her spell. “I would very much like to kiss you again.”

Was she too innocent of heart and mind to understand he wanted more? Not that it mattered. The sudden realisation that he would be happy just to have her company proved telling.

“Then let me tend to you, let me work to make you comfortable. Let me be your counsel, and we will take the rest from there.”

Her eyes brightened. “I was so wrong about you.” Without warning, she reached up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “There, I have kissed you first so you can be assured of my intentions.”

Miles smiled. “Then, my willing young maiden, let me steal you away into Satan’s lair.” Holding her close with one arm, he opened the chamber door. “But I should warn you. Once there, I might keep you a prisoner for all eternity.”

“You make hell sound so heavenly.”

“Hmm. I have a feeling it might be.”

Miles carried her across the threshold. The fire roared in the grate, the flames’ shadows dancing erotically over the red walls. He strode to the bed and placed her down gently before moving to the copper bath positioned near the hearth.

“Dariell prepared it earlier,” Miles said, testing the heat of the water. “For use after our sparring match. When you failed to keep our appointment at the stone circle, I had to do something to ease my frustration.” And fighting with Dariell always helped to clear his mind.

“Forgive me. I had every intention of attending. They locked me in the attic in a bid to force me to marry Lord Randall.”

“They did what?” Miles wiped his wet hand on his breeches. He had a mind to march to Dunnam Park and call every damn one of them out. “And so you ran when they unlocked the door?”

“Yes, but there’s a little more to it than that.” She wrapped her arms across her chest and shivered. “It’s so warm in here, and yet I feel cold to my bones.”

“Then we must get you into the bath and find dry clothes.”

“Your breeches are wet, too.”

“They’re just damp. I shan’t be removing them so have no fear.” Miles looked about for the dressing screen. No doubt the doxies moved it to another room. Women of their ilk had no need to worry about indecency. “As there is nothing here to protect your modesty, the only option is for me to leave. You can lock the door behind me.”

A frown marred her brow, and then she said with some embarrassment, “Don’t go. I can bathe in my nightdress. It’s already wet and sticking to my body like a second skin.”

Oh, he knew that. He’d not been able to take his eyes off the sodden garment. Two pert nipples captured his attention, and Miles groaned inwardly. He’d be fighting with Dariell again before the night was out.

Not being a man to refuse such an opportunity, he said, “As you wish.” He held out his hand to her. “Can you walk to the tub or would you like me to carry you?”

A coy smile played on her lips. “I can walk, but I would like you to carry me.”