Days of Rakes and Roses (Sons of Sin 1.50)

“Cam is the utter limit,” Lydia growled.

The carriage wasn’t yet traveling fast enough for her to injure herself if she jumped out. While she had no wish to walk home unescorted, she was sure Cam would relent after he saw his sister tumble onto the open street. With an unsteady hand, she reached for the door.

Simon leaned across the well between the seats and caught her wrist before she could release the latch. The tingling warmth of his grip shocked her into stillness.

He wasn’t rough with her. If he had been, she’d have had no hesitation in shaking him off and pursuing her foolhardy plan. But his touch was tender as it slid upward to shape her bare arm beneath her drooping cashmere shawl. He’d removed his gloves, so the contact was skin to skin. She trembled with unwilling physical reaction. Heaven help her, the pleasure that seeped through her veins was forbidden but, oh, so alluring.

Simon’s hold tightened. “Wait.”

Just that. One word. No eloquent pleas for cooperation. No apologies. No excuses. And she, idiot that she was, found herself unable to throw off the restraint of that long-fingered hand. With every moment, the carriage picked up speed, putting escape further out of reach. Over the rattling of the wheels across the cobbles, she could hear the rasp of Simon’s breath. Light from outside flickered erratically over his face, lending him a demonic aspect. But she knew he’d never hurt her. Physically, at least.

She kept her tone firm, even as insidious heat crept from his hand along her arm, down through her chest to a heart that had lain frozen for ten unhappy years. “What do you intend, Simon? I can’t believe you mean to ravish me—not with my brother’s cooperation. Even for you, that’s a step too far.”

He laughed softly, ignoring the insult. “What a lurid imagination you have, sweetheart.”

She collapsed back into her corner, tacit admission that for now she wasn’t going anywhere. With a trailing caress that made every hair on her skin lift in response, he released her and lounged on the opposite seat. She told herself she didn’t miss the connection. Then her heart crashed against her ribs with renewed shock when he pulled the blinds down, enveloping them in thick darkness.

“What are you doing?” she asked sharply, pulses spiking with panic.

“Ensuring our privacy.”

“Is this your plan indeed? To ruin me and cause a scandal?” Her voice shook. For the first time tonight, she was truly afraid.

“No, on my honor. You’re safe.” He released his breath in a huff of frustration. “Honestly, Lydia, you’re the outside of enough. As if I’d do anything to harm you. Even if my intentions were wicked, Jenkins is driving. He’s known you since you were toddling. One peep from you and he’d horsewhip me to Edinburgh.”

The coach jolted over something in the road and the blind flapped, revealing that Simon had risen to his feet. She watched him brace himself against the sides of the rocking vehicle.

“Stay away.” She edged farther into her corner, although within the confines of the carriage, there was nowhere to hide.

Simon remained balanced above her. “Do you feel in danger, Lydia? From me? Really?”

She battled to disregard the hurt underlying the question. The truth was that she did feel in danger, from her own weakness if nothing else. She was angry with Simon but angrier with herself. How could he turn her into this quivering jelly of indecision? A virtuous woman would insist on going home immediately. This tête-à-tête promised only heartache. But sweet memories kept her silent.

Since she was seventeen, Simon’s kisses had haunted her.

She sensed him lowering toward her. She placed a shaking hand on his chest, feeling the rhythmic bang of his heart through the palm of her glove. “Don’t.”

Unexpectedly he cooperated. But then he was probably afraid that she still contemplated diving headlong from the carriage. Or shrieking for Jenkins. Above the coach’s rumble, she heard the shuffle and slide of his body as he retreated to his side of the carriage.

She knew she should rail at him for this latest trick, but in truth, she was so weary and dejected, she couldn’t summon the energy. She closed her eyes on an unspoken prayer for guidance and rested her head back against the leather seat.

However often she told herself that Simon was a stranger, she acknowledged that wasn’t entirely true. Over the last week and very muc

h against her will, she’d devoted more time than she’d admit to observing him. She’d noted that he was still considerate to the people around him, whatever their rank, and still inclined to find amusement in life’s small ironies. Ladies still turned like sunflowers to the sun to stare after him, drawn not just by his appearance but by some aura he’d always possessed, even as a boy.

Heaven forgive her, but in Simon’s presence, Grenville faded into a complete nonentity. Although conceding that made her feel like a filthy traitor.

Simon was at ease in his own skin in a way that nobody else she knew was. Everybody in the ton had someone to appease or impress or persuade. Even her powerful brother disguised his true self beneath a façade of almost inhuman self-discipline as he faced down the scandal of their mother’s affair with her glamorous brother-in-law. If one didn’t know him as Lydia did—and she recognized that Cam concealed unassailable depths that he’d never shared with her—one would imagine that not a shred of genuine emotion stirred beneath his immaculate shell.

But Simon was content to be Simon. He always had been. It was breathtakingly attractive, even to a woman determined not to succumb to his appeal.

“That’s a heavy sigh for a lady on the verge of marrying the man of her dreams,” Simon said softly.

She examined his remark for a sneer but didn’t find one. “I’m tired, Simon. The last week hasn’t exactly been carefree.”

He didn’t evade the implied criticism. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult to know that Cam opposes your engagement. You’ve always been close.” Simon didn’t need to add that they’d had to be. In the Rothermere household, neither Cam nor Lydia had found refuge in a parent’s love. “And my presence can’t make things easy.”

“You could go away again.” Lydia paused. Her voice hardened as she recalled her justifiable resentment. “That’s probably your intention. To disrupt my wedding then disappear.”