To Love A Wicked Scoundrel. Anabelle Bryant

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СКАЧАТЬ I asked?’

      ‘Absolutely not,’ she replied without hesitation.

      ‘Then I suppose there is no cause for me to request a servant reset the clock to midnight.’ He mused under his breath.

      He surmised she wished to soften her answer because she smiled slightly and made a quick rejoinder. ‘A charming idea, one that likely brings about your desired result, although I could not accept because we have not had a proper introduction.’

      Con needed no other invitation. Taking a long stride forward, he watched with chagrin as the lady took a quick step back. She appeared no debutante or young miss at her first come out, and her immediate retreat sparked his growing interest.

      ‘Come a little closer.’ He extended his hand towards her. ‘I do not bite.’ His voice dropped to a low tone as he continued. ‘At least not here in Lord Rochester’s study.’

      Her eyes flared and he held back a smile. She was lovely and intriguing. Very intriguing. Her chin notched higher and she boldly did step forward although her hands fluttered at her sides and belied her show of bravado.

      ‘I have not seen you at any assembly of the ton.’ Her eyes were grey, a beautiful shade, stormy and secretive, and right now reflecting hints of gold from the nearby candle flames.

      ‘We are newly arrived to the city, a few days past.’ Her answer, a throaty whisper, revealed she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to answer him at all.

      He captured one glossy curl between his thumb and forefinger and released it slowly, allowing the silky strands to slide across his fingertips. ‘Your hair is magnificent.’

      Her ivory skin warmed with a charming tinge of embarrassment and she looked very fetching in the throes of her unease. As ludicrous as it seemed, she appeared unaccustomed to compliments. Still, such a serene loveliness embodied her it was unlikely she did not draw great attention.

      ‘Perhaps we should share our dance right now?’ He voiced the words before he considered them.

      ‘Absolutely not.’

      As before, her succinct reply urged him to smile. ‘Do you always deal in absolutes?’ He watched her rosebud mouth open and close as if about to answer with the same retort and then realise the error of her ways. If an absolute existed, it was more so that this temptress was absolutely enchanting.

      ***

      Isabelle knew without a doubt she stood face to face with the legendary Lord Highborough, as no other man imaginable could carry himself with such smooth confidence and exacting control. And she had fallen under his spell as quickly as her breath caught when he entered the room and offered her his devastating smile. Foolish, foolish notion, to be so taken by a man’s appearance. Still, no matter how she berated herself, her heart beat triple time whenever he glanced in her direction.

      Rakes were supposed to be dark, brooding men with raven locks and a cutting profile to match their wicked reputation. The man before her appeared more the fallen angel. His thick, barely brown hair laced through with golden threads and fell well past his collar to lend him an easy, affable charm. His crystal blue eyes invited her to become entranced and likely not realise a seduction was in play. And his words, dangerously clever and filled with tempting innuendo, caused her mind to race with the same rapid tempo as her pulse.

      He reached forward and brushed his fingertips against the side of her jaw with the lightest caress. The pad of his thumb grazed the corner of her mouth and all sensible thought evaporated rendering her unable to object to his boldness. Instead she stood as beguiled as any fool she had previously mocked in the gossip pages.

      He tipped her chin up so their eyes matched and his gaze, soft as cashmere, held her spellbound. In a last desperate effort, she blinked hard and attempted to recover her composure.

      ‘I should not be in here with you.’ She stepped backward and caused him to drop his hand. ‘I should not be in here at all.’

      ‘So you are a rule follower? I thought when I found you here and not in the ballroom you had escaped for the same reason as I.’

      The seductive tremor in his voice whispered over her skin and she looked at him directly, catching the silver blue light that sparkled in his eyes. He did not expound on the comment and she remained too determined to extricate herself from the present predicament to give it further consideration. Forcing a cleansing breath, she tried not to look at his mouth. Doing so caused a strange quivering of sorts in all her nether regions.

      ‘You say that as if following rules is a terrible thing. Order is necessary in life.’ Yes, discussing a practical topic ought to do the trick in leading her thoughts far away from his tempting lips, never mind the experience of his kiss. Isabelle focused on her new mission. ‘Not everyone can live a scandalous lifestyle and be admired while doing so.’

      Isabelle expected him to remark on her impertinence. Instead his eyes glittered with a hint of humour and his lips twisted in a half smile. She might not have noticed, except she had yet to convince herself to look away from his mouth.

      ‘What is your name? I cannot wait any longer.’

      He leaned forward, just a little bit closer, and Isabelle smelled his shaving soap and some other unidentifiable scent. An undercurrent of virility radiated from him, nevertheless she experienced no fear. How odd. Her prudent, mannerly lifestyle always followed the safest path and this fair-haired devil presented danger in every form. That in itself proved perplexing. Then an unfamiliar yearning curled within her and caused her thoughts to tumble one over the other.

      ‘Isabelle.’ While she knew it went against all propriety to offer him her Christian name, he’d just danced with her stepmother and would recognise their shared surname. How had the evening become so complicated? She had no experience of the game Lord Highborough played and she’d rather keep it that way. Her heart thrummed a chaotic beat and it was a wonder she managed to remain upright. Each time he looked at her with his smile full of sin, her knees grew weaker still.

      ‘Isabelle.’ He said her name as if he savoured it and she shivered from the effect. ‘It suits you, although you know you just broke another rule.’

      He smiled again and Isabelle had a keen awareness of the moment. He stood before her and watched her as if he could peer straight into her soul. Against all reprimand, her traitorous body grew wondrously warm under his scrutiny.

      ‘So tell me, beautiful Isabelle, why is it as such an ambivalent rule follower, I find you far removed from the ballroom and enticing me with your first name, as beguiling as it may be?’

      She couldn’t very well tell him she wanted to smell the tulips, yet the more she forced herself to focus, the more she couldn’t hold a thought. Good heavens, the man proved distracting. She scrambled for a suitable reply.

      ‘I will keep your secret if you will keep mine. In that manner, neither one of us need reveal the true reason we escaped the crush.’ She took a small step and regained a shred of confidence with her ability to string words into an intelligent sentence. ‘I really must return. I am certain the dinner bell has rung.’ Maybe it would be that easy. He would step aside and allow her to pass. Surely Meredith searched for her.

      But he did not move, not even a hair’s breadth. Instead his gaze slid down her length. Slowly.

      ‘And end our intriguing little interlude? СКАЧАТЬ