In Bed with a Rogue

by Samantha Grace

  “Perhaps my idea of fun has changed.”

  Celeste’s face hardened, and she appeared on the verge of a tantrum, but she wouldn’t dare make a scene for fear of someone learning he had refused her.

  “When you come to your senses,” she hissed, “you know where to find me.”

  “I doubt I will ever return to my senses, or haven’t you heard? I’m as mad as a March hare.” His brows shot up as it dawned on him she was quite adept at employing the innocent act. “You were responsible for the piece about me arriving on your doorstep buck-naked, weren’t you?”

  “No!” Her eyes flared. “I already said it was not me.”

  He leaned closer and her breath hitched. “I don’t believe you, madam. Set your sights on some other poor sod. Our friendship has ended.”

  She nailed him with an icy glare before going to join the other ladies for tea.

  Good riddance. Sebastian lingered by the terrace door waiting for Helena to return. He wasn’t sure what to make of her sudden departure. Under normal circumstances, he might think she was jealous of Celeste, but Helena wasn’t like other women. Most ladies of his acquaintance were easy to read. They wanted him between their legs, and if they weren’t already spoken for, he was happy to be there.

  Helena, on the other hand, was as difficult to decipher as hieroglyphics in a dark tomb. He had no doubt she found him attractive. He just didn’t know if she liked him. She certainly kept him at a distance.

  He checked for Eve and discovered she was engaged in an animated discussion with Sir Jonathan and Lady Norwick several feet away. The man even allowed her to pound on one of the frame drums. With his sister occupied and content, he slipped outside to find Helena. If she asked why he had followed her, he could say he wanted to report on his search for Lavinia.

  He didn’t find her on the terrace, so he descended the stone stairs to wander the gardens. Norwick Place had a small garden, but there were many cozy places to hide. He came upon her sitting on a marble bench beneath a pergola. Ivy weaved through the trellis and created a natural roof to block the sun.

  She froze when she spotted him, her round eyes larger than normal. He held his arms out at his sides and moved slowly as if approaching a frightened animal.

  “Don’t hurt me,” he said in a soothing voice.

  Her nose wrinkled. “Don’t hurt you?”

  “I saw how you handled that footpad, and I’d rather not wind up in a heap at your feet.”

  She laughed, her wariness dissolving. “Unless you intend to rob me, I promise you are safe.”

  He sat on the bench beside her. “And if I steal a kiss?”

  “From me or Lady Lovelace?” The way she spat the other woman’s name gave him the answer he wanted and placed him on familiar ground. He knew how to relate to women who desired him.

  “Why, Helena, I think you are jealous.”

  Color drained from her already-pale complexion. “That’s—I am not jel—Who gave you leave to use my Christian name?”

  He flashed a grin. “You gave permission to my sister.”

  “And you are not your sister, Lord Thorne.”

  “I am not.” He made it a practice never to argue with women, especially since he hated losing. “You may call me Sebastian if you like.”

  “I don’t like, my lord.”

  Damn, she tried his patience. Why couldn’t the lady admit she wanted him? There was nothing standing in the way of them having a very pleasant friendship of their own. Nothing except her stubbornness.

  “Then you must forgive me for being too familiar, Lady Prestwick.” He took her hand and smiled when she allowed him to turn it palm up. His fingers moved to the tiny pearl button on her glove and pushed it through the small loop of fabric. Her breath escaped in a soft wheeze as he inched the satin free of her fingers.

  She closed her eyes on a sigh. “Your apology seems less than sincere.”

  With no barrier present, he turned her hand over and raised it to his lips. Each perfect knuckle received a kiss.

  Then her palm.

  Her inner wrist. Goose bumps rose along her silky skin.

  Her eyes flickered open, but her lids had grown heavy. “Olive warned me about you.”

  “And her warnings fell on deaf ears, did they not? We know you have a taste for danger,” he teased, his lips returning to her wrist and nibbling toward the crook of her elbow.

  “That’s untrue.” She frowned, her brows lowering over her blue-green eyes. “If anything, I have lived too cautiously, and any risks I take are calculated.”

  He released her arm and sat up straight.

  A breeze flowed through the arbor; whisper-like flutters surrounded them. Neither of them spoke, their gazes locked. Was she trying to tell him skulking about in the dead of night where cutthroats roamed was less risky than becoming involved with him? He’d never heard anything more ridiculous.

  She swept a strand of hair behind her ear. “It is none of my concern, but are you and Lady Lovelace…?”

  He blinked. Was this the barrier between them? Helena believed he was still involved with Celeste? “Lady Lovelace is no one to me.”

  Her eyes darkened. “She is ‘no one.’ You share her bed, but she means nothing to you. Is that how affairs are with you? No attachments?”

  “I said no such thing.” Her disapproving tone heated his blood. He had never taken advantage of anyone’s feelings. “And you are jealous.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.

  “Don’t try to deny it. And for your information, I am not having an affair with Celeste.”

  “I am not jealous.”

  “Egads! You are infuriating, woman.”

  She squared her jaw. “Well, so are you. You keep insisting I am jealous when I am not. You and I have a business arrangement. Nothing more.”

  Her hand shook as she pushed the silky strand of hair behind her ear again. Her body betrayed her lies at every turn. There was more between them than business. Much more. Or there could be if she would only admit the truth.

  As he leaned toward her, her eyes widened, but she didn’t retreat. The tip of her tongue flicked across her plump bottom lip and he stifled a groan.

  “Those sweet lips were made for kissing. Not lies.”

  Her hand came to rest on his chest and she eased closer, her eyes drifting to half-mast. His heart thudded hard beneath her palm. “I’m not lying,” she whispered.

  If he shifted, her lips would be against his, and he would finally have what he’d been hungering for since that moment outside St. Saviour’s Church. But more than he desired her taste, he needed her to admit she wanted him too.

  “Prove there is nothing between us, Helena. Kiss me.”

  “I’ve nothing to prove.” She swayed into him, her lips brushing softly against his.

  Good enough. His hand slid to her nape and gently encouraged her to kiss him like she meant it. She sank into him with a pleasurable sigh. The feel of her lips was heaven, her mouth moving with his in a sensual dance. He swept his tongue along the crease of her lips, savoring this reward for his patience. She opened her mouth and her tongue met his, intensifying his hunger. He wanted more. Much more.

  His mouth traveled to her neck and nibbled a path to the supple flesh of her ear. She gasped when he took the lobe gently between his teeth, then melted as he laved it with his tongue. He wanted to taste her everywhere. The hollow of her collarbone. The valley between her lovely breasts. Her puckered nipples. The sweet spot between her thighs. But he couldn’t do any of those things here in the garden.

  Running his tongue lightly along her ear’s rim, he whispered, “Someone might come upon us, sweetheart. I promise to make it up to you tonight.”

  Her eyes drifted open as he eased her away. “Tonight?”

  He kissed away the bewildered lines between her brows. “I’ll come to you tonight where there’s no danger of anyone interrupting.”

  She stiffened in his arms. For one horribl
e moment, he thought he had hurt her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes still cloudy with passion but clearing quickly. She licked her lips and his cock twitched, excited by the possibilities of what her mouth could do to him.

  She held her hair back from her face with both hands. “W-we agreed you wouldn’t come to my town house again. If someone sees you…”

  He smiled. Was it wrong to feel pleased she wasn’t casual about allowing him in her bed? “No one will see me. I know when to practice caution.”

  She shook her head. “No.” She scooted farther away, her eyes darting as if searching for an escape. “We agreed you wouldn’t come to my town house again. It’s a bad idea. Lady Bellwyn’s garden party is tomorrow. We will see each other then.”

  “Along with a hundred other guests. How am I to get you alone at a garden party?”

  “You aren’t.” She hopped from the bench. “I am sorry, Sebastian. I—I don’t think I can do this.”

  She lifted the hem of her skirts and ran.

  ***

  Helena tried to stay ahead of the panic, but it threatened to overtake her as she neared the Norwicks’ home. How had she gone from supremely put out with Sebastian to nearly allowing him to bed her? In a stranger’s garden, no less. And it was daylight, for pity’s sake.

  Slumping against the terrace railing, she tried to catch her breath. She curled inward, her shame too heavy for her shoulders. If one kiss made her forget herself, what would happen if she allowed him in her bed? She would become hopelessly dotty and perhaps follow him around like a pup. Not only would that be undignified, falling in love with him would ruin her plans.

  She must stay strong and focused on her goal. Providing a home for her sisters and a future for Gracie was the highest priority, and becoming involved with another man who might interfere with that goal was unacceptable. She didn’t judge Sebastian to be anything like her late husband, but all men expected to be in control, and the risk was too great. Barring Sebastian from her house and bed was the wisest course, even if she wanted him there desperately.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she straightened and patted her hair. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the windows. The run-in with the baron hadn’t left her nearly as disorderly on the outside as it had inside. She approached the French door and entered the great room with what she hoped was a calm smile.

  Eve looked up from the kettledrum where she was standing with Sir Jonathan. “Come watch, Helena. Sir Jonathan is teaching me to play.”

  She pounded out a rhythm as the gentleman nodded. “Perfect, Miss Thorne. You’ve a natural talent for drumming.”

  Eve beamed in response to his praise.

  “I am impressed.” Helena joined them and tried to focus as Eve chattered about all she had learned from the baronet on Mesopotamia, priestesses, and gods Helena had never heard of.

  Helena swore the man issued a dreamy sigh when he gazed at Eve. It seemed the poor man was love struck. He likely had it as bad for Eve as Helena did for Sebastian, which made her feel a sort of kinship with him.

  The gentleman moved closer to Eve’s side. “Shall I show you the thumb roll?”

  “That would be splendid.”

  Helena took a seat to oversee the lesson, feeling rather neglectful for having left Eve unsupervised earlier. A movement from the corner of her eye caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. It had to be Sebastian returning, but she forced herself not to look.

  Eve brightened. “Where have you been? Sir Jonathan has been teaching me to drum and you’ve been missing all the fun.”

  Sebastian’s deep laugh washed over Helena and filled her with that same blasted longing she’d run from. Without asking permission, he slipped into the chair beside her. “I suppose that depends on one’s definition of fun,” he murmured. “Isn’t that correct, Lady Prestwick?”

  Helena shot him a quelling look, but he only raised a brow as if challenging her to contradict him. She snapped her gaze forward, her hands gripping the arms of the chair.

  What was he doing? She had essentially told him she wouldn’t become involved with him and he acted as if they hadn’t spoken.

  “I don’t understand you,” she whispered. “I told you there can be nothing between us.”

  “I fully support a lady’s prerogative to change her mind.” He leaned back in the chair, extending his legs and crossing them at the ankles. “And I’m told I can be persuasive.”

  “Have you also heard you are arrogant?”

  “A time or two, yes.”

  Helena folded her arms and fought back a smile. She didn’t want to encourage him, but she couldn’t help feeling flattered that he would want to change her mind. Her gaze traveled the length of his strong legs and her heart missed a beat.

  Stop it! There was no room for a man in her life, no matter how amazingly handsome he was. She was doing the right thing for her family and herself.

  Eve quit drumming. “I have a great idea. We should invite Helena and Sir Jonathan to join us for a stroll this afternoon.”

  “I’m afraid I must—”

  “I would be honored.” Sir Jonathan cut off Helena’s response.

  “That is a splendid idea, poppet.” Sebastian grinned at Helena, and she had a sinking feeling she would be subjected to his persuasive powers very soon if she agreed.

  Eve’s doe-eyed gaze pleaded with her to accept. “Surely you can join us, Helena. We have barely spoken all afternoon.”

  Helena did feel rather guilty for ignoring her friend, but if she didn’t know better, she might think Eve was conspiring with her brother.

  She suppressed a sigh. She hoped she wouldn’t come to regret this. “A stroll sounds lovely, Eve. Thank you.”

  ***

  Sebastian would have to thank his sister once they reached home, although he didn’t delude himself into thinking Eve had asked Helena and Sir Jonathan to join them on a walk for his sake. His sister had linked arms with Sir Jonathan and dragged him several paces ahead the moment they left Lady Norwick’s. Eve’s laugh was a little heartier, her gestures more animated, and when she slanted her head to smile at her escort, the poor man stumbled over his own feet.

  “She likes him,” Helena said softly.

  “Yes, she is rather obvious, but it’s sweet.”

  A slight smile curved Helena’s lips. “Sir Jonathan allowed her to play his drums, even though he wouldn’t put her in a trance. I am sure that says something about his regard for her, too.”

  “I’ve no doubt he is smitten, but I’m unfamiliar with the gentleman and his family. Until I know more about him, I will not encourage a match.”

  “He seems kind.”

  Sebastian’s teeth ground together. She had known Sir Jonathan Hackberry for all of three hours and she had already deemed him kind. And yet Sebastian, who had willingly given his time to help her search for a servant’s sibling, was arrogant. A completely unfounded accusation. He was confident. There was a difference.

  When ladies began propositioning him at age sixteen, he had known he was different from his friends. Granted, nine years of women fawning over him hadn’t made him humble, but the experience with Gabrielle had knocked him down a few pegs. Now there was Helena, a woman he desired more than any other, and she refused to have anything to do with him, which made no sense.

  He glanced sideways at her. Her gaze remained straight ahead and her posture was as stiff as a soldier marching in a parade. Sebastian had never been one to dance around a topic. In fact, he’d been told on occasion he had no tact, but he’d always found asking straight questions usually reaped straight answers.

  He cleared his throat. “What impediment keeps you from becoming involved with me? I know you are as attracted to me as I am to you.”

  “Sebastian.” Surprise and censorship was clear in that one word.

  “Be honest. I deserve the truth.” He held his breath, dreading her answer. If she mentioned anything about his family history of mental frailty, he wasn’t certai
n he could stand to hear it. Not from her.

  Her steps slowed until the gap between them and his sister grew even greater. Eventually, Helena stopped. He turned to face her, preparing for the harsh truth and unsure how he would respond.

  “Sebastian.” She forcefully exhaled and a pink flush climbed her face. “It’s me. I am the impediment.”

  He blinked, not following her.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not like that, at least I’m not afraid of you in the sense you mean. I am afraid of what I might lose if I become involved with you. I never had a moment of freedom until recently and I can’t risk my independence. I just can’t.”

  A surge of affection flowed through him. She had nothing to fear from him, and now that he understood her reluctance, his patience returned. “I don’t want to control you, love.”

  She gave a rueful laugh. “You would be the only man who hasn’t. First it was my father and then my husband. This is the only time in my life I haven’t had a man making decisions for me, and I’ve found I like that very much.”

  “I understand the appeal.”

  He wasn’t being sarcastic. Having grown up mostly with his mother and sister for companionship, Sebastian didn’t hold some of the same ideas about ladies and their places in Society as his fellow gents. He believed in protecting and providing for Mother and Eve, but he would never force them into doing something they didn’t agree to. He wanted to ask Helena about her father and husband, so he could reassure her that he was nothing like them, but the middle of the walkway was not a place for such a discussion.

  For now, he would just have to prove himself, and he would start by accepting her refusal.

  “I promise not to place you in a difficult position again, Lady Prestwick, but know I will be waiting.” As long as it takes.

  Despite his father’s long periods of isolation, he had managed to impart some of his values to Sebastian. Hard work and determination reaps rewards. Determination was in Sebastian’s lifeblood. He had never been one to surrender without a fight or back down from a challenge, but that didn’t mean his only weapon was brawn. He had the advantage of charm and wit, and that was what he needed to win over the ever-more-desirable Helena.