When a Rogue Falls

by Caroline Linden

  Brooke waved her silk fan, a look of chagrin passing over her features. “I could hardly exclude Hannah from the ball.”

  Narissa pulled her gaze from the Duke of Blackmore as the quartet struck the final cords of a cotillion. “No, of course not.”

  “I assume he is her chaperone,” Brooke said. “I tried to tell you at the club that I suspected he may attend.”

  “I am sure you are right.” Narissa tipped the crystal flute against her lips, drinking copiously. “Let us hope he retires to the card room straight away.” The last thing Narissa wished for was more time in the duke’s company. Even now, her body was betraying her as her stomach fluttered and her heart beat a bit faster than before. And all she’d done was spied him across the crowded room.

  “I fear you are not to be so lucky. He’s coming this way.” With a flourish, Brooke lowered her fan. “Do be polite.”

  Narissa caught the duke’s gaze through the crush of people and peered at him in hopes he would change direction. She spent more time with him than she wished as it were. Three days in the last sennight. She had no wish to speak with him outside of training his mounts.

  Hell, she did not want to see him then but had little choice in the matter. She scowled at Brooke. “Let us go.” Narissa started toward the door determined to seek shelter in the ladies retiring room.

  Brooke caught her elbow, stilling her. “We cannot be so rude as to give a duke the cut direct, and certainly not in public. Not at my parent’s ball.”

  Narissa peered at Brooke, determination driving her forward. “We most certainly can.”

  “Do look. Hannah has joined him. We simply must greet them.”

  Narissa released a huff and pivoted back in their direction. As much as she did not want to face Blackmore, she would not willingly be rude to Hannah. The girl had become a friend. A cohort and confidant. She pasted a smile on her face and nodded at Brooke. “Indeed we must.”

  “You look feral.” Brooke released her hold on Narissa. “Certainly, he cannot be all that bad.”

  Narissa relaxed her facial muscles attempting to appear more natural and pleasing. “You have no idea.” The duke was, in fact, the worst man she’d ever been unlucky enough to become acquainted with. Sure, he was pleasant to look at, clever, and charming when he wished. But he was also stubborn and controlling. Worst of all, he was blackmailing her and enjoying every second of it. He was the worst sort of scoundrel.

  She did her best to maintain the practiced smile she had fixed on her lips and dipped into a half-hearted curtsey when he approached. Rising, she chastised herself for making eye contact with him.

  The Duke of Blackmore gave a devilish grin. “Lady Narissa. Lady Brooke.”

  Brooke rose from her curtsey. “How do you fair this evening, Your Grace, Lady Hannah?”

  “It is a lovely ball, a smashing success,” Hannah said.

  “Indeed, you shall be all the rage on the morrow.” The duke continued to gaze at Narissa, sending heat coiling through her. “May I have the next set?”

  Narissa squared her shoulders. “My dance card is quite full,” she lied, tucking her wrist into the folds of her gown.

  Brooke peered at her with reproach but refrained from saying anything.

  Perhaps Narissa was behaving poorly. One dance could not hurt her overmuch. All the same, she did not want to be in his arms for fear she would come to like him. It was bad enough that she desired him.

  “Odd considering you are not dancing at the moment.”

  Narissa cringed. She was well and truly caught.

  “I will settle for what remains of this set.” The duke proffered his arm.

  Swallowing hard, Narissa deposited her campaign flute on a passing servant’s tray, then took the duke’s arm. A jolt of longing shot straight to her core.

  She’d rather dance with the devil, but then she was quickly coming to believe the duke and the devil may be one and the same. What other reason could there be for the way her body reacted when he came near?

  He led her onto the polished dance floor and pulled her into his arms as the quartet played a waltz. She fought the urge to flee, accepting that she was well snared in his trap. Leastwise for the rest of the dance. If she were being honest, the feel of his body close to hers proved rather pleasant. His strong arms lending her support, the heat of his body so near to hers, his masculine smell wrapping around her.

  How unsettling that she could be so comfortable in his arms. She fought to suppress nerves. To chase away her thoughts.

  “Relax, hellion,” he whispered near her ear, sending a tingle through her.

  Narissa inhaled sharply at the new sensation. What the deuce was the matter with her? It was only a dance. She’d done the same with dozens of other men. Why should he be any different? She resolved to ignore the way her body reacted. Perhaps it had nothing to do with him at all. Maybe the heat of the ballroom had gotten to her.

  Yes, that had to be it. When their dance concluded she would seek out some fresh air on the terrace.

  He twirled her out, and she instantly missed the contact they’d shared a moment before. When he brought her back against him, heat flared once more, warming her cheeks. She’d not survive another minute in such close proximity. “Your Grace.”

  “Yes.”

  Narissa met his gaze. “I fear I cannot complete the waltz.”

  He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “You are quite warm. Allow me to escort you out for a bit of night air.”

  Unable to find her tongue, Narissa nodded. The cool night air would be most welcome, even if she did remain in his company. She allowed him to lead her out onto the upper terrace before releasing his arm to take hold of the marble railing.

  “Would you like to take a walk?”

  Narissa glanced back at him, considering. She certainly did not wish to return to the ballroom. “Yes.”

  He held out his arm.

  She ignored the offer and strolled toward the stairs. She would allow him to accompany her, but there would be no more touching. Her heart pounded harder with each step across the gravel path, though the ambiance of moonlight and flickering torchlight soothed her.

  “What has you so flustered, Narissa?” The duke stepped in front of her, stopping her progress. “Dare I think it is I who has you so unsettled?”

  She ignored his egotistical baiting. “Please do not use such familiarity, Your Grace. Are you trying to start a scandal?”

  He glanced around before pinning her with his blue eyes. “I see no one about.”

  “That is beside the point.” Narissa stepped around him, strolling deeper into the garden.

  “It is my desire to become friends.”

  She turned to him. “Friends? I hardly know you.”

  “You could get to know me.” He closed the distance between them.

  She placed her hands on her hips, staring at him incredulously. Of all the pompous things he could have uttered. Her irritation spiked. “Why ever would I want to befriend the man who is blackmailing me?”

  “I gave you a choice. You did not have to ride for me.”

  “Humph.” Narissa peered at him, anger warming her blood.

  The duke grinned. “Tell me, where did you learn to ride so well?”

  She’d be damned if she were going to give him an answer. She glanced at a nearby torch then back at him. “Why are you so insistent on me being your jockey?”

  “Because you are the best I have ever seen.” He took her elbow and turned her toward a cast iron bench. “Allow us to become better acquainted.”

  Her vexation lessened at his compliment, and she allowed him to lead her to the bench. In truth, she was curious about the man. If he were willing to answer her questions, she’d be a fool not to take advantage. After all, it was best to keep your enemies close. She sat on the cool surface, taking a moment to collect her wits before meeting his gaze. “Why do you require the best?”

  He gave a rakish grin, his eyes sparkling
in the moonlight. “Because I detest losing.”

  “Why?” She pressed, searching his deep blue gaze for clues.

  He sat next to her, his thigh pressing against hers and she jerked away at the contact.

  “I am a competitive man. Need there be any other reason?”

  “I suppose not. Though I suspect there is more to it than just the will to win.” She angled her head a fraction, studying him.

  “You are astute.” He inched closer, bringing his thigh against hers once more. “I have a proposition.”

  Ignoring the urge to scoot further down the bench, she held his attention. “Do go on.”

  His eyes flashed with amusement. “Tell me where you learned to ride, and then I will tell you why I must win the derby.”

  She averted her gaze, focusing on a flowering bush cast in moonlight. Dare she open herself up to him? Agreeing to his proposal would likely lead to more questions—ones she would not wish to answer. However, refusing him would leave her without the knowledge she so desperately wanted. She exhaled a slow breath. “My father taught me.”

  “He seems to have been a remarkable man. Some would call him a legend. I am sorry that I did not know him.” The duke patted her hand. “Is he the one responsible for your gaming hell as well?”

  She pressed her lips together, pulling her hand from beneath his. “I believe I have already satisfied the terms of your proposal. It is your turn to make good on our bargain.”

  “Indeed.” He gave her a measured stare, his gaze unsettling her further. “I have a great deal of money at stake.”

  “You are a duke. A very wealthy one from what I gather.” She watched him through narrowed eyes. A large wager may motivate him, but there was something more to it. Something passed through his gaze, doubt perhaps, or was it worry?

  “Indeed, I am.”

  “Then it stands to reason you have more than money at stake.” She started to stand, but he placed a hand on her shoulder, stilling her and she settled back onto the bench.

  “Very well. My bet is with an old rival. The money matters not to me, however, I cannot lose to this gentleman again. It is a matter of pride.”

  Anger unfurled within her. The blasted duke singlehandedly destroyed her and Papa’s dream in an attempt to save his pride. How dare he! She stood, glaring at him. “You are neglecting your duties as Hannah’s chaperone. Imagine what a blow it would be to your pride if something happened to her due to your lack of attention.”

  The duke narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?”

  “I do not make threats.” Narissa notched her chin. “I make promises.”

  “Then, by all means, let us return to the ball.” The duke stood and proffered his arm, though his posture was stiffer than before.

  Good. She’d managed to turn the tables on him. At least for now.

  She rested her fingers over his elbow, grateful to be ending their conversation despite not learning anything useful. No matter, she still had her ace to play. And play it she would.

  Narissa grinned with the secret knowledge that Brooke and Merlin had topped Banshee’s exercise time. They would win the derby, and the duke would get his comeuppance. Best of all, she would be there to witness every delicious second.

  The secret knowledge would make her victory all the sweeter. Perhaps sweet enough to wash away the bitter taste of not being able to ride Merlin herself.

  Chapter 8

  “You do not belong here.” The viper-tongued woman from Seth’s last visit stood, blocking his entrance to Fortuna’s.

  “Lady Narissa will not mind.” Seth attempted a charming smile. “We are friends.”

  The woman squared her shoulders, scowling. “I am quite certain she will, and as such, you are not getting past me.”

  He couldn’t very well manhandle a woman. Even if she weren’t one of Narissa’s friends. He simply was not the sort. Reasoning with her had already failed as had his attempt to charm her. Bloody hell, Narissa surrounded herself with an odd lot. Nearly defeated, he shook his head before resorting to his last tactic. “Then I will find somewhere to relax while you go retrieve her from above stairs.”

  Seth strolled over to an ornate pink and cream settee and took a seat, stretching his legs out in front of him and reclining against the plush cushioned back. “I will wait all afternoon and through the night if that is what it takes.”

  The woman dropped her hands from her hips, peering at him. “You will frighten my customers.”

  He arched a brow. “Perhaps. But all the same, I am not leaving until I see her.” He hoped the threat of a man lounging near the fitting rooms all afternoon would be enough to set the woman into motion. If not…

  With a huff, she unlatched the secret door leading to the gaming hell and disappeared into the stairwell.

  Seth stood when the sound of slippered feet drifted toward him from the stairway. A moment later, Narissa appeared, the other woman at her heels.

  He inclined his head in greeting. “My lady.”

  Narissa only frowned before grabbing his arm and pulling him through the shop. She stepped into a room full of fabric and frills. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same.”

  Her eyes rounded as she pushed the door closed behind them. “What are you talking about?”

  “You were due at my house two hours past.” He smoothed his cravat as he studied her. “When you did not arrive, I grew concerned.”

  The genuine relief in his gaze warmed her and her irritation settled a bit. “I sent word. Something of a delicate nature came up here and I could not leave.”

  He’d not received anything of the sort. She was lying. He saw it in her gaze and the way she fidgeted with her sleeve, but why? Was there something amiss? A reason for his concern? “What has happened?” He closed the distance between them and lay a sympathetic hand against her cheek.

  Her eyes blazed. Anger. No. He knew this look all too well. Passion burned in the golden depths of her eyes. He smirked as his own blood heated. The hellion desired him. He stroked her cheek, leaning a notch closer. “Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

  “I-it is not your concern.” She stammered, her cheeks tinting pink.

  He stroked his thumb over her cheek relishing in the reaction she gave. “On the contrary. It is very much my concern.”

  She turned her face, breaking his contact with her silky flesh. “How so?”

  “You are avoiding me.”

  She went rigid. “I assure you, that is the last thing I’m doing.”

  “I disagree.” He leaned closer. “You are afraid because you’re attracted to me.”

  She stepped back, removing herself from his reach. “You have lost your mind.”

  “Prove it.” He came forward, sweeping her in his arms. “Kiss me.”

  “No.” She peered at him through passion-clouded eyes.

  “If what you say is true, you have nothing to fear.” He stared deep into her gaze, sensing a new game was afoot. “On the other hand—”

  She brought her lips to his, cutting off his words. A quick soft press of her luscious flesh to his.

  Pulling back, she attempted to flee, but he held her against him.

  “I do not fear you, nor do I desire you.” She stared defiantly up at him. “In fact, I would rather kiss a toad.”

  Another lie, for the feverish burn of passion radiated from her. “Then you will not object to a more intimate kiss.”

  She angled her chin in answer, and he took full advantage, capturing her lips with his. Sliding his hand down her back to cup her bottom, he deepened the kiss. She softened in his embrace, small whimpers floating from within her as he stroked her tongue with his.

  Good God, this was no game at all. He wanted her. Maybe worse then she wanted him. The realization startled him but did not dissuade him from exploring her further.

  He pressed her against the wall, allowing her to feel the effect she had on him before trailing tender kisses d
own her throat to her décolletage.

  She tossed her head back in abandon, her breasts thrusting forward as he licked and suckled her skin. He cupped one full breast in his hand, his thumb stroking the hard nipple concealed beneath the fabric of her gown as he worked to free the other one.

  She moaned, winding her fingers through his hair and holding him against her chest. His erection strained against his trousers. What he would give to lay her down and posses her here and now.

  Through the haze of desire, a creaking sound caught his attention. He released Narissa, shielding her with his body. Heart pounding, he turned toward the door. Bloody hell. Her friend stood there, scowling at him.

  “Josephine?” Narissa inhaled a sharp breath, working to straighten her clothing. “Give us a moment, won’t you?”

  Seth stared at the entrance, his pulse thrumming.

  The wide-eyed woman, Josephine as Narissa had called her, retreated without a word. Seth turned back to Narissa.

  “You must go at once.” Narissa stared at him, her expression giving nothing away.

  He reached for her but dropped his hand when she turned away. He would not push her further. Not today. “I will see you at Epsom.”

  “After which you will refrain from ever bothering me again.” She notched her chin, defiantly.

  He took his leave wondering why she resented him so much. True, blackmail was no way to make friends, but what reason did she have for forcing his hand to begin with? He’d made her a very advantageous offer when he’d attempted to hire her. Furthermore, she was a jockey. Her behavior toward him made no sense at all.

  Seth spent the remainder of the afternoon between trying to figure Narissa out and reliving their intimate encounter before heading to his club where he hoped to drink her off his mind. Now, sitting in his favorite chair at White’s, he stretched his legs out, accepting another snifter.

  “You are in fine form this evening.” Ramsbury took the chair beside him.

  Seth tugged his cravat, loosening the fabric before taking a deep drink of the amber liquor.