Who Wants a Brawling Baron (Romancing the Rake 6)

er. She was going to null their bargain. He let out a low rumble of dissent. He needed this arrangement. And so he wrapped an arm about her waist, pulling her tight to his body. “The first rule of rakes is that a woman like you should never tangle with one.” Then he leaned down and captured her lips with his own.

She inhaled and he knew that she drew in his breath. Her hands came to his chest and he wondered if she’d push him away. For a moment he held, waiting to see how she’d respond. He might be a rake but he’d never force himself on a woman.

She softened under his stillness, grabbing his coat and pressing her lips closer to his. He nearly grinned, triumph and lust pulsing through him. She was as supple as he’d envisioned, fitting against him in the most perfect way. Her lips were achingly sweet as they pressed tentatively to his. Her education was about to begin and schooling had never been sweeter.

Chapter Four

Charlie held to Balstead’s lapels like one might cling to a dingy in a storm. She was sure if she let go, she’d be cast adrift.

By contrast, he felt exactly like a giant oak tree: large, strong, and deeply rooted. Both shelter and strength, his massive hands wrapped about her body, nearly covering her entire back.

His lips began moving against hers, keeping hers closed before he lifted and then kissed her again. She wasn’t certain how many times he repeated this movement, but her head grew increasingly muddled with every touch until rather than pressing her lips together, he nudged them apart and dipped his tongue between her parted lips.

Then any shred of reason she had left evaporated. She snaked her hands about his neck, drawing him closer as he tasted her. He had the distinct scent of leather and the smoky cherry of his cigar. Under that was a deeply masculine scent that made her pulse flutter wildly.

Tentatively, she met his tongue with her own, and tingles shot from the touch straight to the juncture between her legs.

He ripped his mouth away, taking a half step back.

She tilted wildly, her legs hardly holding her, but his hands slid to her waist, steadying her on her feet. “Consider our bargain sealed,” he whispered. “I’ve met your condition.”

Then he slowly slid his hands away and took another step back.

Her fingers fluttered up to her cheeks. Bargain? She wasn’t even certain she remembered her own name. The kiss had scrambled all her thoughts, her reason, her sense. “What?”

“Our bargain, beautiful. You’re going to help Cassandra, and I am going to teach you about rakes. Consider our kiss the irrevocable seal on our deal and your first lesson.”

“Lesson?” She blinked as she attempted to swipe the fog from her eyes. His kiss had been so delicious… “What lesson was that?”

He stepped closer again, sliding his hand along her jaw, cupping her cheek, and her body pulsed with a need for more of his kisses. More of his touch.

“Rakes are exceptionally good at touching, kissing, and coercing a woman into being alone with him,” he said. “If you’re not careful, far more careful than you’ve been with me, you will find yourself ruined. Caution is needed.”

He dropped his hand and made to turn but her mind had begun to work. “But there is one thing I don’t understand.”

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “What’s that?”

“Surely, I’ve met rakes before, without realizing it.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “None of them ever…” She didn’t need to finish. They both knew what they’d just done.

He spun back and moved closer once again, nearly touching her. Her body trembled at his nearness. “You wanted me too. That was the difference.” Then he turned again and disappeared into the darkness.

She stood there, peering into the void where he’d disappeared. Her arms wrapped about her middle. She’d gotten exactly what she’d asked for and yet she was fairly certain she’d lost another round against the Baron of Balstead.

She made her back to the kitchen, easing herself through the door and back up to her room.

She didn’t bother with a maid, instead undressing herself, which took ages, and then she flopped onto her bed in just her chemise.

She brushed the tips of her fingers across her lips. She’d been kissed.

She closed her eyes. Not just any kiss. A soul-moving, earth-shattering, mind-numbing kiss. That ought to keep her thoughts off the loss of her parents, the loneliness that had nearly engulfed her. Only Dane had kept her from sinking from the weight of her grief, and now he was gone too.

Well, not really gone but he’d left her in another sense. Off to a beautiful new life with Juliet. Perhaps Balstead was right. Mayhap it was time she married too.

Raithe sat silently as he listened to the men. Fortunately, his absence had been short enough that he hadn’t been missed.

Strange because the interlude had felt like an eternity. No, that wasn’t correct. He shifted in his seat, as he rubbed his face with one hand. He’d wanted the kiss to last forever—their little tryst in the garden had been far too short—but now that he’d had it, he was…altered. Hot. Bothered.

He still wanted to help Cassandra, of course. She was the one good thing in his life. A friend when he had so few, and a link to when he’d been wholesome, and not jaded by how cruel life could be.