A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)

She looked away. “As I can’t resist you,” she confessed.

When he didn’t jump on her, she was almost disappointed. Heavens, she really took to vice with gusto.

After a taut silence, he sighed. “Aren’t we a pair?”

If only they were.

Surely he wouldn’t stay in Little Derrick. He must have duties and obligations, not to mention the fashionable world clamoring for his return. A fashionable world closed to a bluestocking with no connections, no fortune, and no polish. A fashionable world adorned with women who had shared his bed and women who would share his bed. The idea of those trollops touching Richard made her itch to scratch their eyes out. And there was that wife of perfect pedigree that he sought, according to the papers.

Her fingers formed talons in her crumpled skirt. She had no rights over Richard. But that didn’t stop her heart screaming “He’s mine” when she contemplated anyone else sharing those breathtaking intimacies.

And not just physical intimacies. She didn’t want him sharing private jokes. She didn’t want him studying another woman with that sweet, intense concentration. The same sweet, intense concentration he devoted to her now.

She was a jealous, possessive shrew. So much for proud independence. He’d forsake her for his real life. And she’d miss him forever, curse him.

“I could have made you pregnant,” he said grimly.

A baby would cause such problems, she couldn’t bear the thought. Which made her recent activities rash to the point of lunacy. But regret and fear seemed so distant when her body still quaked from his possession. “Can we cross that bridge when we come to it?”

Surprisingly he laughed. “What a pragmatic creature you are.”

The comment sounded like a compliment rather than criticism. Still, thinking of blue-blooded brides, she prickled. “You must be used to more sophisticated company.”

He caught each hand and kissed her knuckles with a tenderness that eased the ache in her heart, without banishing it. “You’re more fun.”

“Fun?” Her mouth dropped open with astonishment.

“You’re the most interesting girl I’ve ever met.”

“You can’t—”

Below, the door squeaked. There was a sharp bark. Sirius.

Before she could react, Richard launched himself over her, rolling her into the hay. He pressed into her back, his heart banging against her. His breath moved the loose hair at her temple. Dread tightened every muscle to the point of pain. Her nose smashed against the dusty floor. She closed her eyes and prayed she wouldn’t sneeze.

Lemon verbena flooded her senses, headier than wine. Especially mixed with the salty musk of sexual satisfaction. She shifted surreptitiously, bumping her hips against Richard, and he groaned in her ear.

“Behave yourself,” he hissed. “If they find us, there’s the devil to pay.”

“You did well, lad,” Wi

lliams said. The groom stood directly below. All urge to tease disintegrated.

With the soft clop of hooves, George led her old pony inside. These days Lightning didn’t justify the name. “Thank you, Mr. Williams. When can we go again?”

Bubbling happiness rang in the boy’s voice. She felt Richard smile against her cheek. In that moment, she gave up pretending to possess a scrap of sense where he was concerned. She’d fallen utterly in love with him. The emotion had been present so long that she didn’t know where it started. Perhaps right back when he’d locked her up, then wandered off whistling.

She was hopelessly in love with Christopher Evans. She was hopelessly in love with Richard Harmsworth. She was hopelessly in love, and she had no idea what to do about it.

Luckily Williams chose to escort his pupil home, leaving the stables to Sirius, the horses and two miscreants in the loft.

When Richard was sure the barn was empty and likely to stay that way, he rolled off Genevieve with a muffled groan. All that proximity had tested his control and he was as hard as an oak staff. The last few moments confirmed, as if he hadn’t always known, what risks he took tumbling Genevieve. Risks he couldn’t countenance if he made the smallest claim to honor.

Slowly she sat up and a pang of concern penetrated his sexual frustration. He stared up at her. “I’m sorry. I squashed you.”

Her lush mouth curved into a smile that sent another jolt of hunger through him. “Actually it was rather… enjoyable.”

“You’re a tease, Miss Barrett.” He stood and extended his hand.