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

“Did you hear your mother is back from Paris? My sister Lydia saw her at the opera last week. Dazzling in some gown that has the modistes scrambling to catch up. And trailing two French comtes at least twenty years her junior.”

Oh, merciful God. He didn’t want to think about his mother right now. He never wanted to think about his mother.

“No, I didn’t hear,” he said with hard-won carelessness. “I pay no heed to my mother’s antics.”

Both he and Cam knew he lied through his teeth. But the reminder of his mother’s peccadillos and the misery they’d caused him placed his fascination with Miss Barrett into perspective. He probably should thank Cam, much as he felt like pounding the insolence out of him for broaching this perennially painful subject.

Thanks to his mother, Richard had spent his life shoring up defenses against a hostile world. A man asked for trouble if he made himself vulnerable. If he’d learned anything after years of fending off snide remarks, it was that he couldn’t risk any emotion deeper than a puddle.

Miss Barrett would prove to be only another woman in a long line of meaningless intrigues. A more complex and interesting woman than his usual conquests. A woman who right now he couldn’t imagine leaving after a few weeks. But that mutton-headedness would pass, he was sure. She’d never leave a scar on his well-guarded heart.

Damn it. Cam would accuse him of protesting too much.

Chapter Twelve

His confounded Grace knows too much for his own good,” Richard told Sirius as they wandered along the bridle path toward the vicarage. Since discovering this shortcut when tracking Genevieve through the night, he’d used it regularly.

Needing thinking time, he led Palamon instead of riding. He’d pretended that Cam’s remarks slid off him like snow melting off a roof. But Cam knew him better than anyone, and clearly his friend feared the consequences of this masquerade.

Around Richard, the trees were a striking combination of red, yellow, and green as autumn took hold. The newly emerged sun sparkled weakly on wet grass. Above, stray clouds massing in the sky reminded him of Genevieve’s embroidery. Devil take it, he must be smitten, much as he hated admitting it. He even found her malformed stitchery endearing.

The path veered toward Genevieve’s pool. The memory of her rising—however clichéd, he couldn’t help thinking of Venus—from the water still disturbed his sleep.

“Genevieve’s outside the usual run of female. That doesn’t mean this affair is important.”

Sirius glanced back with an expression eerily reminiscent of Cam’s skepticism.

“Admittedly she’s smarter than most women I’ve had in my sights. I need to be at the top of my form to match her.”

Although what did he mean by “match”? Obtaining the jewel, obviously. Or did he mean kisses? More than kisses? He swallowed to moisten a suddenly dry mouth at the thought of seducing Genevieve, virtuous woman or no.

The devil whispered in his ear and he struggled against listening. Genevieve didn’t intend to marry. Would Richard do irreparable damage if he explored the attraction flaring between them?

His voice turned husky. “She’s halfway there. More than halfway.”

Sirius’s steady gaze didn’t waver.

“Shut up,” Richard muttered. “What do you know?”

Sirius gave himself a good shake and trotted ahead.

/> “You’re not much of a confidant,” Richard called after him. “Unless you lift your game, it’s hardly worthwhile keeping you in bones.”

Sirius barked sharply and loped into the undergrowth. Richard frowned and stared after him. He led Palamon onward, wondering what had set Sirius off.

His thoughts elsewhere—predictably with Genevieve’s kisses—he approached the last turn of the path before the stable yard. The sound of running feet made him stop.

A curved body, soft, fragrant and disheveled, crashed into him and sent him staggering. Automatically he released the reins and his arms closed hard on his assailant. Behind him, Palamon snorted and danced away.

“What are you—”

“Let me go!” Genevieve struggled, panting. Her scent, warm woman and crushed flowers, made his head swim. His hands tightened even as she wriggled.

“Miss Barrett, what’s the matter?” Although he should release her, he couldn’t convey the command from brain to hands. No wonder. All the blood in his body flowed to one organ alone.

“Let me go, you idiot! They’re getting away!”

“Who’s getting away?”