All Night with a Rogue: Lords of Vice

by Alexandra Hawkins

  Alexius teased the nipple peeking from the edge of the countess’s bodice with his finger. “It seems impolite to keep you on your knees.”

  Abby flowed like warm wine onto his lap. “I seem to recall that you prefer your women on their knees and their mouths filled to cease their useless prattle.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted into a genuine smirk. The comment certainly sounded like something he might have spouted in the past. “Perhaps I have changed.”

  Abby laughed at the absurdity of the notion. “Oh, Sin, you are many things. Reckless . . . calculating.” Abby pushed his hair away from his face, pressing tiny kisses down the line of his jaw as she tried to sum up his nature. “Inventive, passionate, crude . . . sometimes cruel. You are a self-seeking scoundrel. A breaker of hearts. And a jaded bastard. Nevertheless, at this moment, you are mine!” Her hands slid around his neck, slipping beneath the secured wrappings of his cravat. He felt the sting of her nails cut into his skin, drawing blood.

  So Abby had marked him, after all.

  Alexius did not bother to contest her opinion of his character. His friends would heartily agree. He had been all of those things at one time or another. A lady would be foolish to trust him with her heart or her body. That was one of the reasons why a woman like Abby appealed to him.

  When he took a lover, he learned her body so he knew it as well as his own. He knew exactly how much pressure to apply to make a woman quiver in his arms. What pace to set with his agile fingers to make her sigh and cry out his name. Alexius was just one of countless lovers Abby had taken since she had given Lettlecott his heir. In truth, Alexius was not even her favorite.

  A second pregnancy and the birth of another son had kept Alexius out of her greedy hands for more than eighteen months. However, Abby had recently weaned her infant son, and she had expressed a desire to renew her and Alexius’s acquaintance. He had been mildly interested. Earlier this evening, he had faced the choice of spending the evening fondling sweet Abby’s breasts or playing cards with his friends and Lettlecott’s cronies.

  He should have stayed in the card room.

  Fortunately, his mercurial nature sensed a new game was afoot, and he openly embraced it.

  Alexius looked up and wide, solemn eyes met his stare. He grinned up at her, calculating the possibilities of his good fortune.

  Alexius helped Abby to her feet. Abby looked startled. “What is this? You have not—we have not—”

  “Alas, there is no time.”

  With his hand firmly on her elbow, he led her away from the tree. “We have tarried too long. I thought I heard someone call your name from the upper terrace.”

  The first hint of fear flashed in Abby’s eyes. “Why did you not speak of this sooner?”

  His smile was unapologetic. “I was distracted.”

  The countess muttered an unladylike curse as she reassured herself that her dress and hair were in place. “Remain here. It would be unseemly if we both appeared to be taking air in the gardens.”

  Abby kissed him quickly on the lips. “I look forward to our next meeting.” She let her fingers linger on his cheek for a few seconds before she dashed back toward the house.

  Abby viewed him as a secret lover to be used and discarded at whim. Alexius had allowed the countess to cling to her illusion because it suited him. What the countess failed to understand was that he had taken and pleasured her at his whim. Like all the women who came before her, Abby belonged to him until he tired of the game.

  With anticipation vibrating through his aroused body, Alexius turned and headed back for the hazel tree.

  God’s hooks, Sin was walking toward her!

  The man was aptly named. With him on his feet and striding toward the tree with a lazy grace, Juliana understood why Lady Lettlecott risked a beating or worse for this man. Sin was the most beautiful man Juliana had ever encountered. Granted, she and her sisters had lived rather sequestered lives since their father had died and a distant cousin had claimed the Duncombe title along with their beloved home. Even so, Juliana’s natural instincts hummed with a secret pleasure that muted her earlier fear.

  He was older, mayhap twenty-five or twenty-six. His face was riveting, all slashing angles across his cheeks, nose, and jawbone. Hatless, the tousled black hair that had escaped his queue softened those uncompromising planes. Juliana was certain his eyes, too, enhanced his masculine beauty, but he would need to get closer for her to inspect them. She noticed as he approached that there was a slight plumpness to his lower lip and a hint of self-mockery that twisted his mouth. It might beckon an unwary lady—not her, of course—to risk her virtue by begging for a kiss. Oh, good grief, he was tall. Lean corded muscle and sinew moved seductively under his expensively tailored coat and tan-colored trousers that indicated that he was a gentleman.

  Now that he was almost upon her, Juliana could not stop blushing. She kept thinking about the intimate way he had touched Lady Lettlecott. The countess had mewed and rolled her feverish body against him, and Sin knew Juliana was watching!

  Even in the varying levels of shadows, the gleam in his eyes seemed like an unspoken challenge. No longer concerned about the noise she might make, Juliana tried to scoot down the tree trunk before he reached her, only to remember that her skirts were caught on the shoots and branches.

  “Well, well, it isn’t every day that I encounter a tree sprite,” Sin drawled, bracing a palm against the slanted trunk that held her prisoner. His amusement was palpable.

  And annoying.

  Juliana impatiently blew the strand of hair obscuring her vision. “You know very well that I am not a tree sprite.”

  “Or mayhap you are a lybbestre. Tell me, my lady: is it true that moonlight is the source of your power and beauty?” Oh, the scoundrel, as Lady Lettlecott named him, was thoroughly enjoying himself on Juliana’s behalf.

  “I am not a sorceress,” she said through clenched teeth. Her fear had gradually waned when it was plain that Sin had no intention of alerting the countess to Juliana’s presence. While she was forced to watch the wicked rake dally with his married mistress, the night air had chilled Juliana. She was tired and her arms ached from the strength she had exerted to avoid discovery. In her frame of mind, mocking her predicament was a dangerous sport.

  She glared down at him. “Go away.”

  Sin gave her a measured stare, before his gaze traveled down the length of her body to her exposed legs. Her stockings and garters were visible to his perusal, and she cringed at the several inches of bare skin he could see above her garter on her left thigh. Even her mother had not viewed Juliana’s body so intimately since she was a small child.

  The man sensed her growing agitation and sighed. “Very well. I shall leave you to your magic and moonlight—” He stepped away from the tree. His shoulders bowed as he stoically accepted her rejection.

  “Pray, my lord, hold!” Juliana blurted out before she thought better of asking the devil to help her. “I need your assistance. I am soundly caught.” She kicked her legs to demonstrate her dire predicament.

  The swift grin he flashed at her revealed that she had neatly ensnared herself in the subtle trap he had set. “Indeed, you are, my lady.”

  He had thought her merely appealing? The blond lybbestre was spectacular! All of the physical attributes Sin had admired from afar had only improved with proximity. He seized the heavy bench at the base of the tree and dragged it closer to her side. Climbing up, he used one of the other low-angled trunks to balance his stance. If she had not seemed so vexed with him and her predicament, he might have touched her cheek to test its petal-soft smoothness for himself.

  Instead, he concentrated on her legs. By god, it was no hardship on his eyes. The poor lady had managed to tangle her skirt and petticoat in the branches. The gentle curves of her calves and a tantalizing hint of thigh were exposed for his hungry gaze. He patted one of the hazel tree’s trunks, paying silent tribute to it for the lovely prize it had caught for him. If he had
known what awaited him, he would have shoved Abby off his lap and sent her back to the house sooner for a chance to dally with this delightful wench.

  Unable to resist, he stroked one of her legs with his palm. The blonde shrieked as if he had hurt her. The panicked reaction doused his enthusiasm a little. Whoever she was, she was unused to a man’s hands on her body. Or she belonged to another man. Sin scowled, immediately disliking the notion. In the past, he had been able to work around such a hindrance when it suited him.

  Like now.

  “Steady, my dear lady. You’ll bring others to your side, and I highly doubt either one of us wants the attention.” Sin paused and waited for her consent.

  She gave him a shaky nod.

  “Good girl,” he said approvingly like he was speaking to a fractious mare. Sin leaned in and peered at her legs. He heard her soft gasp. He uttered a low curse, noting her torn stockings and the spots of blood that had soaked through. “Christ, what a mess you’ve made,” he muttered, sure her leg was stinging as much as the back of his neck. “You’ve bloodied your leg with your night mischief!”

  “Night mischief?”

  Sin turned his face away so she could not see his grin. Her outrage had fired her blood, and it was heating parts of him as well. He was certain the little tree witch was livid that he dared to scold her when she had caught him dallying with someone else’s wife. What would she do, he mused, if he told her that he had changed his mind about Abby the second he had seen her peering down from the tree’s foliage? His hand was unsteady when he placed it on her leg. What would she do if he bent his head down and tasted the hollow at the back of her knee with his tongue?

  Alexius snorted.

  She would probably try to plant her dainty foot in his arrogant mug.

  What a sad, sorry state he was in. Lust had a way of stewing a man’s wits, so much so that it twisted a man’s cravings for a lady in a manner that even the thought of her committing violence against him made his cock twitch.

  Painfully aroused, Alexius was sorely tempted to show the little innocent how rapidly temper could change into blind passion. The bruises and scratches would be worth it.

  “I had a very good reason for climbing this tree, Mr. Sin,” she said, oblivious to the battle he was waging within himself. “You might find this difficult to believe, but none of my reasons had anything to do with you or Lady Lettlecott!”

  His lips twitched as if he was fighting not to laugh at her petulant tone. “So now I can add spying and eavesdropping to your growing list of misdeeds.”

  Sin patted her calf in sympathy, and to his delight, she growled at him. Her response provoked a throaty chuckle. “There, there, I was merely teasing. And it’s simply ‘Sin.’ After all we have shared I think it is only fair that we are on informal terms. And you are?”

  She ignored the question. Sin would have been disappointed if she had made it too easy for him. Sulky, the blonde closed her eyes, blocking out the knowledge that he was touching her. He kept the pressure of his fingers light and impersonal. A whiff of a light feminine scent teased his nose as he worked. She smelled of crushed hazel leaves, wood, and violets. All he wanted to do was bury his face between her legs and discover all of her unique scents.

  Her body trembled under his gentle ministrations.

  “Are you cold?” he inquired politely. “My coat would help warm you.”

  She opened her eyes and angled her neck so she could watch him unthread the fabric of her dress from the branches. “You are kind to offer, but I will be warm again when I return to the house.”

  “So you are one of Lettlecott’s guests.”

  Her brows rose in mild curiosity. “Did you think I was a servant?”

  Sin shook his head, his gaze directed on his task. “No. Your dress and speech are too refined.” He did not mention that Abby was a trifle vain. She would have sacked any maid who outshone her own beauty. “I did, however, suspect that you might try to lie.”

  “Why would I lie?”

  Aware of every move that she made, from the corner of his eye Sin watched as she kneaded a cramped muscle in her neck. She rested her cheek on her arm to relieve the discomfort.

  “I have no intention of telling you anything about myself.”

  Juliana stopped breathing when Sin stroked her garter with the pad of his thumb. “You are not as forgettable as you might think, my mysterious lybbestre. You have skin that glows in the moonlight. Gold spun silk for hair, and lips that remind of ripe wood strawberries. Your eyes—,” he began, but she cut him off.

  “Pray, not another word.” She leaned on her elbow to brace herself into more of a sitting position. “You cannot see the color of my eyes, you dolt!” she said, ruthlessly cutting off his praise. The fluttering in her heart had more to do with annoyance, she tried to tell herself, rather than pleasure at his practiced flattery. The man probably paid every woman he encountered the same compliments. “Even I cannot see the color of your eyes!”

  The abrupt tension in his body unsettled her. Maybe she had gone too far? Finally, he said, “Then you will have to take a risk and move closer.” The edge in his tone made her want to apologize. Before she could, he added, “You are free.”

  Without asking her permission, Sin plucked her from her perch and cradled her in his arms with an ease that astounded her. He was so warm Juliana wanted to instinctively burrow against him, soaking his heat into her bones. As her unguarded yearning registered, she stiffened in his embrace.

  Juliana whispered against his coat, “You are holding me too tightly.”

  On a muffled oath, Sin jumped down from the bench, causing their bodies to bump against each other. The impact was strong enough to rattle her teeth.

  Juliana had closed her eyes and now refused to open them. “You can put me down.”

  “What color are my eyes?”

  Her eyes fluttered open at the unexpected question and she looked up and directly into his. Juliana only had the filtered moonlight and Lettlecott’s distant lanterns to assist her, but her vision had acclimated to her dark surroundings. She saw Sin quite clearly. Framed with dark long eyelashes she saw intelligence, humor, and an emotional intensity she did not quite understand just beneath the gleaming surface of those expressive orbs. Sin had also proved he was capable of kindness. He had not delivered her to Lady Lettlecott when he had his chance. Nor had he abandoned Juliana, when her shame over her awkward predicament had caused her to be rude to him. The countess had said that Sin was capable of cruelty, and there was no reason to doubt the woman. She knew the man far more intimately than Juliana ever would dare.

  However, that was not what he had asked her.

  “Brown,” she said, squinting as she drew closer. “No, wait. A hint of dark green and mayhap some gold. Hazel, I believe.”

  Hazel.

  Just like the tree.

  Was her fate to be ensnared by Sin as thoroughly?

  The triumphant smile faded from her lips. It was then that she realized Sin’s mouth was a hair’s breadth away from hers. A sudden strong wind could have satisfied her curiosity and ended her just-realized torment.

  No, this was wrong. He was all wrong for her. He could be married, a rake, or a fortune hunter. Her mother had plans for Juliana and her sisters. Whoever Sin was, she was certain that he did not fit in Maman’s grand schemes. Juliana cleared her throat, breaking the spell of enchantment. Blinking rapidly, she turned her face away and cast her eyes downward to the ground.

  “I need to return to the house, my lord,” she said, hating the rawness in her voice. “My family. They will be concerned by my absence.”

  His slow reaction hinted at his reluctance to release her. Her legs wobbled as her satin slippers touched the soft ground covering.

  “Green.”

  She started at his abrupt tone. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your eyes. The hue is reminiscent of the dark leaves of the Dog Rose in August.”

  He released his firm grip on her a
rms, and the night air washed away the warmth she had stolen from his embrace. She crossed her arms over her breasts. “I should go.”

  Sin took a step forward. Arms spread, he gestured at the wooden bench. “Or you could tarry and tell me why you were hiding in Lettlecott’s hazel tree.”

  Juliana smiled sheepishly at his outrageous offer. Their unusual meeting should not have invited shared confidences. So why was she tempted to remain? She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I have family awaiting me indoors. Besides, your countess might return.”

  Juliana backed away from him, letting the shadows swallow her.

  “Abby belongs to Lettlecott,” Sin said quietly. “Not I.”

  “You might want to remind her of that fact, the next time she unbuttons your trousers,” Juliana snapped back, and then winced. She would have happily cut out her tongue if she could have taken back her sharp words.

  Sin’s low, hearty laughter enveloped her. It slipped beneath her skin even as Juliana quickened her pace to put as much distance between them as possible.

  Alexius listened to the woman’s footfalls and shook his head in disbelief at her foolishness. She was likely to break an ankle fleeing from him at such a reckless pace. He could have assured her that he had no intention of pursuing her. There was a chance that she might have believed him.

  Of course, it would have been a lie.

  Walking back to the bench, he crouched down and scanned the ground. Where was it? There. Alexius plucked up the forgotten white plume and held it up for inspection.

  There was nothing extraordinary about the tiny piece of fluff. Nothing. Still, it did not stop him from tucking the feather into the tiny pocket of his waistcoat.

  It was then that Alexius recalled that his sulky lybbestre had not told him her name.

  No matter.

  The mystery of her identity was part of the sensual game they would play together. No woman had ever been able to resist Sin for long.