She watched as Titus dragged her brother along, a small smile forming on her mouth. “Serves him right,” she said under her breath.
Marcus pretended not to hear her, as it was the polite thing to do. Still, he smiled.
He could not look away. The sun had begun to dry her mass of auburn hair so that it gleamed in the sun, threads of gold catching the light in a dizzying array. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to measure the weight of it in his hands.
Her profile enthralled him. Her pert nose—sprinkled with freckles, no less—was the perfect accompaniment to her high cheekbones and that damnably kissable mouth.
“I apologize, Lord Weston,” she offered quietly, without looking at him.
Marcus abruptly ended his cataloging of her features. “For trespassing or for Titus?” he quipped.
“Both, actually,” she answered, turning to look at him, a charming smirk lighting up her face. “And the mud. I’m really quite sorry for the mud.”
And just like that, she ran from the lake bank and disappeared into the shrubbery, her long auburn hair swaying behind her as she went.
“What in bloody hell just happened?” Marcus said aloud, not sure what to do next.
The Devil in Disguise: A Regency Rogues Novel Page 28
