Never Trust a Rake

She had come, that was the main thing. He had no wish to hear her justifying her reasons for being here.

‘Not another word,’ he said. ‘I already know that though you do not wish to associate with me in public any more, you are still curious about what it would be like to be kissed by a notorious rake.’

His face looked so harsh, his words sounded so bitter. He’d managed to make it sound as though she was somehow insulting him by coming here. And it wasn’t like that. Not at all. She would not be here if he were any other man. And even though it would make no difference to him, she still wanted him to understand.

She took a breath to protest, but before she could even begin to explain, he’d swooped down and pressed his mouth over hers.

And all rational thought fled. They were pressed hard together, along the entire length of their bodies. He’d clamped one arm round her waist, while his other hand had gone to the back of her neck, to hold her in place while his mouth took possession of hers.

It was heaven. Almost. Because he was only doing this to stop her speaking her mind. And she’d hoped for so much more than anger. And if this was their one and only kiss...

She whimpered.

‘Forgive me,’ he said, breaking off. ‘That was not very adroit of me, was it? It would be much more comfortable on the sofa,’ he said, altering his hold so that he was beside her, the arm round her waist now guiding her across the room.

She was so relieved it was not to be their only kiss that she said nothing, merely allowed him to sit her down and position her exactly as he wanted. Next to him, with his arm round her shoulder, half-reclining against a bank of cushions conveniently arranged against one end.

‘Better?’

No. She had preferred him all hot and apparently passionate to this cold, studied man who’d spent the time waiting for her arranging cushions.

‘If this is to be our farewell,’ he continued, in that cynical drawl she so detested, ‘I must endeavour to make the occasion memorable for you, must I not?’

She would have been happy with another few moments in his arms, with his mouth pressed so hard to hers that it felt as though her neck would snap under the weight of his passion. She didn’t want a performance, which was what this was. She could tell by the calm deliberation with which he was removing his gloves.

He’d regrouped, withdrawn and was now treating her with the same cool contempt he was said to employ on all his other women.

But then what could she expect? She’d destroyed whatever friendship she’d begun to hope might be blossoming between them by asking him to reveal this side of himself. By agreeing to this kiss, she’d made him see her in the same light he saw all those others.

And this was his way of saying farewell to her. By reducing her to just another conquest, just another woman whose curiosity about his prowess had got the better of her, any hurt she might inadvertently have caused him would pass more swiftly.

And she had hurt him. She hadn’t meant to, but instead of standing with him and facing down the gossip his sister was setting in motion, she’d agreed to walk away. She’d agreed to let him play the villain of the piece.

It was almost as if he was bringing that performance into this room.

‘No,’ she whispered on a shiver of horror. ‘I have changed my mind.’

‘Too late,’ he said coldly. ‘You are locked in here with me now. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’m done.’

‘I have already kissed you,’ she protested, one hand against his chest as he loomed over her. He seized her wrist and flung her arm up above her head as he used his body weight to bear her down amongst the cushions.

‘No,’ he said, his eyes glittering with what looked like suppressed rage. ‘I kissed you. You merely stood there, too surprised to make any response at all. Though now,’ he drawled, ‘you seem to be thinking of screaming for help.’

Henrietta was a bit afraid. He looked so cold and hard. The way he’d looked when Miss Waverley had tried to entrap him. But through that emotion rose others, just as surely as his body heat was seeping inexorably through the flimsy barrier of her dress and his waistcoat. One of them was sheer physical excitement. Being so close to him, with him so determined to behave outrageously, was the most intoxicating feeling she’d ever known.