To Want a Rogue

He reached for her hand. “We understand each other, don’t we?”

The guilt that had been niggling in her now belly pitched wildly. “I’m not sure if we do, I suppose.”

He pulled her against his chest. “We’ve both suffered loss and I was afraid to lose again but seeing you like this has made me realize that—”

“Please stop,” she pleaded, her hand coming to her chest. She couldn’t do let him finish knowing that she’d been deceitful. “I must tell you something before you say something you only wish to take back.”

“What?” He searched her face, then bent down, his lips brushing against hers.

“I…” His kiss sent a ricochet of sensation straight to her core. “I’ve been terribly awful and I can’t let you continue without telling you the truth.”

He kissed her again, deeper. “Do you mean that you are not Mrs. Greenwich?”

“What?” She croaked and tried to take a step back, but he held her tight. “How do you know that?”

“I spent the last two days tending to your brother. It didn’t take long to discern you weren’t your own tutor.” He trailed a hand up her back and into her hair. “But you have lost your parents and your brot

her is ill. You understand loss even if it wasn’t that of a spouse. I thought that if you found yourself alone, I would offer for your hand.”

Her mouth hung open as he kissed the spot where her neck joined her ear. “I appreciate your understanding considering my…fib.” She pulled away a little. “Just so that I am clear, you’re saying that you’ll ask me to marry you if my brother dies?”

That made him pause, his body stilled against hers. “I suppose that is what I’m offering, isn’t it?”

This time, Dahlia pushed and he relented, letting go of her and stepping back. “It’s a lovely offer and I am fortunate to know that there is a man willing to step in as my protector should I lose my brother.”

He tilted his chin to the side, assessing her. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

“But as you now know that I am not a widow and we have no formal promise, you can understand that I can’t be alone with you. I should not kiss you, and I certainly cannot have private dinners in my room with an unmarried man.” She grabbed his elbow and began pulling him toward the door. She really did appreciate his offer and part of her was tempted to let him stay. She was lonely and he was so…strong and charming. Or perhaps powerful was the word. But her virtue was all that she had left.

He stopped. “No one is here to see.”

Letting go of his arm, she opened her door. “You know how servants can talk.” She was grateful but his offer was conditional and for some reason, that stung. “I wouldn’t want you to be trapped into a match if you could avoid it.” She swept her hand toward the hall. “And it’s only right that I show you the same consideration you have me. We must protect your interests.”

He stepped through the door, scrunching his brow. “Thank you?”

Dahlia would have liked nothing better than to lose herself in those strong, capable arms. But if the past two days had taught her anything, she knew she’d regret any actions that were not upstanding. Besides, Sam was going to get better, his fever was improving. And because of that, she should not become attached to this man. “I felt awful about lying to you. I’m sorry that I did.”

His confusion vanished as understanding lit his face and he stepped closer, his sandalwood scent wrapping about her. “I understand why you did, but I appreciate your apology. And I’m sure Sam appreciates your commitment.”

A small laugh escaped her lips, though it held no humor. “A lot of good I’ve done him.”

“You did your best.” He tipped her chin again and softly brushed his lips against hers. The tenderness made her ache with need.

“My best has been dismal.” She turned her face away. “Which is why I have to ask you to leave. It’s time for me to start making some good choices.”

Gavin scratched his head. He considered himself to be a reasonably intelligent person, and Dahlia was a smart woman. But he was struggling to keep up with the underlying meaning of their conversation. Good choices? “I beg your pardon?”

Dahlia’s mouth twisted. “I can’t be alone with you. It isn’t proper.” She drew in a deep breath. “If Sam’s fever breaks, I’ll go to your cousin’s for the rest of his recovery.” She brought her fingers up to press against her temples, her eyes closing. “Or somewhere else you deem safe.”

His body throbbed in awareness. She was admitting that she was attracted to him. He had the sudden urge to thump his chest in victory. That was, until the door closed soundly in his face. Had she just shut him out?

He started down the hall, sifting through the contents of their conversation. On the one hand, he’d thought it had gone exceedingly well. The truth about her identity was now in the open. He’d offered to help her should she need it, and she’d accepted. On the other, she hadn’t seemed happy, despite her obvious attraction. It was in all the words she hadn’t said, the sadness that had pulled at her mouth. But Sam was doing better. She needn’t be sad.

But then again, Sam was doing better and his offer had been contingent. His gut clenched, but he ignored the feeling of worry. This was what he could offer. A match that made sense only if necessary. To just ask for her hand, well that smacked of real feelings beyond lust and loneliness and he simply couldn’t open that door.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into his study. The view of the front yard and driveway bathed in sunshine drew his eye outdoors. Perhaps what he needed was a walk. He’d been inside for days.

The decision made, he changed and headed down the grand stair, intent upon a good long walk in the woods. It would sort out his feelings and relieve some of the tension that had built over the past few days.