Three Redeemable Rogues

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  Christian felt certain she wasn’t aware how much she had disclosed with her carefully worded grievance.

  “I had business to attend,” he lied, and hobbled his mount to the fence, then hoisted himself up to sit beside her, facing her, his back to the enclosure to better see her.

  She looked at him, brows drawn. Devil hang him if she didn’t have the most beautiful eyes. They were his undoing.

  “Didn’t you miss me at all?” he whispered at her ear.

  For a long instant she merely stared, and he could see the confusion in her eyes. He’d done this to her, he realized. Without even trying, he’d begun to do her damage already. What more injury might be done if he stayed?

  He should leave, he knew. It was the right thing to do, but he couldn’t... .

  “I did, my lord,” she confessed, and her eyes turned suspiciously liquid. He cursed himself roundly. She ducked her head, her cheeks flushing prettily, and Christian reached out to lift her chin with a finger.

  Their gazes held.

  He stroked her chin with his thumb.

  God only knew, he didn’t deserve her assurance, but he needed to hear it, even so…

  “I’m glad to know I’m not so easily dismissed,” he said, his voice as gentle as a caress.

  Jessie shivered, her breath catching softly at the intensity of his gaze. She stared stupidly. His eyes... they seemed to be looking into the very depths of her soul... One brow rose slightly, and he smiled, a roguish smile, as he lifted her hand, placing it to his chest.

  “Do this wretched heart o’ mine a kindness,” he whispered. “Tell me again, cherie... that you missed me.”

  Jessie’s heart skipped its normal beat.

  She prayed her blush wouldn’t deepen and give her away. Of course, she had—so much so that some part of her had nearly died with grief in his absence.

  But he might have sent word—might have told her that he intended to return, rather than let her speculate and worry. Rather than leave her to fend off Eliza’s smug “I told you so” looks. Her heart tripped painfully when his sensual lips broke into a wicked little grin, and she felt the telltale warmth creep down to the tips of her very toes. And yet she couldn’t tell him what he wished to hear.

  She couldn’t let him see how much his inattention had hurt her.

  How much his return meant to her.

  She felt much too vulnerable.

  She forced a lighthearted smile. “I-I was watching the colt.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the animal in question, then turned again to scrutinize her. Staring meaningfully into her eyes, he whispered slowly, “Exquisite creature.”

  “Yes... he is,” she agreed.

  His mouth quirked with amusement, and she wondered what she’d said.

  “The dam was a gift from my father,” she explained.

  His grin turned crooked. “That was quite generous of your father, Jessamine, but I wasn’t speaking of the colt, you see…”

  Her hair was caught today at her nape in a brilliant yellow bow; a few of her dark, shiny curls had found their way free and now fell in abandon, framing her lovely face. Her soft, pale cheeks were flushed from too much sun. In her bright saffron muslin gown she seemed a ray of sunshine herself.

  As though she only now grasped his meaning, her gaze fell demurely, and it was all he could do not to lean forward and kiss those soft lips as he craved to do.

  He had to remind himself she was not some dockside miss to be mishandled. For most every second of the last two weeks he’d fantasized about seeing her again, kissing her—a new experience to him, this idle daydreaming. He decided it had been much too long since he’d lain with a woman, for even now he found himself helpless to follow his baser instincts. Her sweet innocence fed his lust; like kindling to burning coals, it set him afire, brought him to a full and painful arousal. He wanted to make her smile, he realized. He didn’t relish seeing her this way.

  “Jessie,” he said, “I’m sorry if I’ve neglected you these past weeks... I wanted to come. I swear I did. I simply couldn’t.” And it was the truth, nothing but the truth. “Forgive me?”

  Jessie wanted to believe him, she truly did.

  He’d still not released her hand, she realized. She nodded at last, unable to deny him the words he wished to hear when he looked at her so affectionately. “Yes,” she confessed softly, and her heart quickened painfully as he lowered his face to hers suddenly. “Yes, I do…”

  He smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “’Tis the truth that I thought of you every moment.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “May I kiss you again, Jessie?”

  Her heart lurched, and she stammered, “Y-You wish to...”

  “Kiss you,” he finished, nodding. “Very much so, Jessie.”

  The sound of her name on his lips gave her heart a jolt. He drew away a fraction, watching her with smoldering eyes and his covetous expression was her undoing. If she’d harbored even a thought of resisting, it was gone now. His gaze flicked provocatively to her lips, and he came forward once more, his hand touching her cheek as their lips met softly.

  “I’ve craved this every moment we’ve been apart,” he murmured.

  God help her, but so had she...

  For a few seconds, Jessie ceased to breathe at all. The shock of his lips as they touched upon her own prompted her to clamp her lips tightly shut. He made a sound, part chuckle, part groan, as though her absurd reaction had somehow pleased him, and then he cradled her face within his hands, pecking one corner of her mouth first, then the other, ending with a kiss on the bridge of her nose.

  Breathe! Jessie commanded herself. Breathe!

  But she couldn’t, and then as his mouth lifted and descended once again, grazing hers, moving seductively over her trembling lips, molding insistently with her own, her uncertainty vanished. With subtle but coercive pressure, he coaxed her lips apart, and liquid fire spilled into her mouth. Never in her life had she been kissed so exquisitely, so thoroughly. Indeed, never in her life had she been kissed at all… except by him.

  “God... you are lovely,” he whispered into her mouth.

  Jessie shivered as his tongue slipped boldly between her lips once more, the feel of it as erotically soft as warm, wet velvet upon her bare flesh.

  She knew she should protest.

  It was the right thing to do.

  She opened her mouth to speak and he whispered into her mouth. “Hush, Jessie… don’t deny me this... a kiss and no more…”

  Chapter 7

  Heaven help her.

  Jessie wanted this too.

  A kiss and no more.

  Jessie was helpless to do anything but nod weakly as his tongue dove within the depths of her mouth. It was the most tender moment of her life. She was completely powerless to do anything but wrap her arm about his waist and hold on lest she melt from his embrace into a pool upon the ground. She could feel his warmth even through his coat.

  Abashedly she realized that her hand was exploring the breadth of his back... and worse, she was trembling.

  Mortified, she tried to still her quaking by pressing her hand more firmly against him. She was startled to find that his heart hammered fiercely, too. It was more than evident to her that Lord Christian had kissed many a woman in his life, and Jessie had been afraid he would find her wanting. And yet... if she wasn’t mistaken... if she wasn’t imagining, he was trembling, as well...

  Or rather... it was his coat that trembled...

  Her brows drew together, for the movement seemed to commence... She groped downward. At his coattail? Her curious fingers moved downward and encountered a warm, fuzzy face.

  Mrs. Brown!

  Understanding dawned, though even as she acknowledged the sloppy sound of Mrs. Brown chewing Lord Christian’s frock coat, there was a sudden tug. It happened so quickly. Unwilling to take Jessie down with him, he released her at once and went flying backward.

  With wide, incredulous eyes, Jessie watched as he tumbled into th
e enclosure at her feet. Startled, the goat bleated and leapt away, a small morsel of Lord Christian’s coattail still caught within her twitching mouth.

  Lord Christian remained sprawled before her as dust settled upon his dark coat and breeches.

  Prompted by his stillness, Mrs. Brown ventured back to glare down into his dazed face. He recoiled as she lowered her nose to sniff indignantly at him.

  Jessie couldn’t help it; his dumbfounded expression brought a peal of laughter to her lips. All the tension of the past weeks dissolved at the sight before her.

  “What is that?”

  “That!” she told him, her voice strangled with giggles. “That—” Lord help her, but she could not quite manage her hilarity, his expression was so comical. “That,” she tried again, “is Mrs. Brown!”

  “Mrs. Brown?” He eyed the goat balefully, and Mrs. Brown scurried away, decidedly uneasy with the look he gave her.

  Jessie was teary-eyed with laughter when next he spoke.

  “A bloody goat!”

  “Yes, my lord!”

  Jessie managed an appropriately sober nod, and reached up to dab her misty eyes with a finger, only to burst out laughing once more.

  To his credit, he managed a chuckle as he admonished her, “If you’d not wished to kiss me, m’mselle, you might simply have said no.” He arched a plaintive brow.

  “But, oh,” Jessie cried, her merriment rekindled. “It was so much more effective this way! Do you not think so, my lord?” She burst out laughing and Christian’s hand darted out to catch her ankle. With very little effort, he snatched her down into his embrace.

  Laughing, she tumbled down atop him. “My lord!” she shrieked, scandalized.

  “What?” he asked much too innocently.

  Her laughter ended abruptly as his hand slid about her waist, securing her where she sat.

  She had no idea what a tempting morsel she made, Christian decided.

  Supporting their combined weight with one arm, he slowly drew her toward him.

  Her intake of breath was audible, and her breast rose enticingly with the effort, tempting him beyond reason, bewildering him so that he momentarily forgot his resolve merely to kiss her.

  His breath caught as he found his mouth at the level of her breast, a blatant invitation to his parted lips. He was so close now...

  So many times he’d fantasized about loving her this way...

  He closed his eyes, commanding what was left of his self-control. All he needed to do was move a fraction forward. Only a fraction... and then suckle...

  But it would frighten her, he knew.

  As much as he wished to believe she was wise to his needs, that she shared them—that she knew where this petting and fondling would lead—he recognized innocence when faced with it. She was too bloody naive to even know how to restrain her newly awakened passions.

  Damn, but he wanted this.

  Closing his eyes in an attempt to regain his composure, he caught the heady scent of lilacs—perhaps from a sachet secreted beneath her undergarments—and he was at once thankful for his tight breeches to conceal the evidence upon which she was so innocently perched.

  Seeming to recover her senses, and squirmed, trying to remove herself from his lap, but his hand tightened about her arm, stilling her movements. He groaned in pleasure and in pain and she froze, meeting his gaze.

  She tried again to rise, but with a firm hand to her back, he brought her forward for another kiss instead.

  Ah, but Christ, he couldn’t help himself.

  He thought to make it brief, just a quick peck, but when his lips touched hers, and she parted them so sweetly, he nearly lost his will. Her mouth was too warm, her breath too sweet. He kissed her hungrily, savoring the moment like a man starved.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that if he didn’t lift her from his person this very instant, she would soon discern the lump she was perched upon so unsuspectingly was no simple lump, at all. Worse, he might completely forget their surroundings and be tempted to make love to her here under the twilight sky.

  She deserved better, he reasoned desperately, searching diligently for the impostor gentleman within—the one who seemed so eager to be all that she desired.

  Perhaps the man had fled?

  He hoped, and yet, he felt inclined to seek him out once more.

  They would doubtless be discovered before the first raindrops fell—which would be any moment if he scented it right. He peered up at the darkening sky.

  If not that, then Mrs. Brown might decide to take exception to his loving her and nab his rear.

  If not Mrs. Brown... then perhaps one of the other two occupants of the enclosure. The last thing he desired were teeth marks upon his arse... or pistols at dawn.

  Or perhaps that was precisely what he hoped for.

  To face a pair of barking irons… with her brother at the other end.

  Sighing regretfully, he caught Jessie with both hands at the waist—and fought the incredible urge to slide his hands upward, cup them about the tantalizing flesh she’d only just tempted him with.

  Blast it all, he was going to sorely regret this visit tonight when he lay alone in his bed.

  “I believe I scent rain,” he said thickly, his voice sounding strangled even to his own ears. “Much as I’ve enjoyed this...” He eyed her meaningfully. “I fear I must be off before it pours, m’mselle.” And then slowly, though reluctant to do so, he lifted her from his person, cursing roundly to himself as he did so.

  Jessie nodded, though she seemed not to have heard a word he’d said. Christian knew the very instant she regained her wits because her face flushed a rosy pink. He couldn’t quite bring himself to apologize, however, for he wasn’t the least bit sorry for what little had passed between them. In truth, he might have preferred to have something of which to be repentant. Still, he didn’t wish to embarrass her more than she likely would be when she realized what liberties she’d allowed him, so he remained seated upon the ground and lifted a knee to conceal his amatory state.

  When he made no move to rise, Jessie seemed to forget her chagrin at once, eyeing him solicitously. “Oh my! Are you hurt, my lord?”

  Shaking his head at her naïveté, he chuckled ruefully.

  Christ, but he was going to suffer tonight.

  “Let me help you!” she offered and extended her hand in aid.

  He waved her away, clearing his throat. “In an instant, Jessie. I’m just a wee bit... stiff at the moment.” He peered up at her, gauging her expression, and smiled grimly when she clearly didn’t understand his meaning. “The fall,” he suggested.

  “But you’re not hurt?” she asked, her tone filled with concern.

  Enormously relieved that she’d not understood his lecherous jest, he said, “I assure you, m’mselle that I shall live.”

  To his great misfortune.

  At her doubtful expression, he rose as proof. “See.” He grinned then, seizing her by the chin, and raising her face to place a perfectly chaste kiss upon the bridge of her nose. He turned her about so that she couldn’t spy his brick hard arousal.

  She seemed reassured, though even as she turned to smile up at him, the first raindrops struck her full in the face. She mopped them away with a sleeve, and laughed softly. “I do believe it’s going to rain, my lord,” she told him, her humor restored. “I commend your unerring nose.” She bolted toward the gate. “Follow me!”

  He didn’t dare.

  He waited until she was out of the gate, racing toward the shelter of the house before bothering to move. And then reluctantly, he scaled the fence and seizing his reins, he mounted his horse.

  Realizing at last that he wasn’t following her, she halted abruptly, whirling about.

  “Don’t stop!” he shouted. “Get yourself home, lest you be caught in the downpour!”

  She stood, nevertheless, rain soaking her to the bone, reluctant to leave him, sheltering her face with her hand. Instinctively he understood why,
and it warmed his heart.

  “I’ll call again tomorrow,” he swore, and then added, “I promise!”

  She smiled beautifully.

  Wheeling his mount about, he cast her a backward glance. She was still watching, despite that it was raining harder now, and he pivoted his mount to face her. His steed pranced impatiently, eager to leave.

  He advanced upon her suddenly, and said impulsively, “Meet me by the brook... noon tomorrow?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I... I don’t know…”

  “Noon,” he said again, and prayed she’d refuse him.

  She nodded and he smiled down at her, giving her a final salutory wink.

  “Till then, my love,” he said, and turned to leave before she could rethink the wisdom of what she’d agreed to.

  Before his damnable conscience could interfere yet again. With all his heart and soul, he wanted Jessie.

  Chapter 8

  True to his word, Christian materialized by the brook precisely at noon—equipped for a picnic. Jessie was delighted that he’d taken the time to consider so much, and she chided herself for worrying over naught.

  Once again they whiled away the hours conversing, and she sighed contentedly as she listened to him. He was so wonderful, so very wonderful—magnificently handsome, too.

  Languishing in the heat of the day, he’d removed his frock coat. It lay forgotten now upon the grass. His crisp white shirt, with its perfect pristine ruffles and folds, he wore recklessly unbuttoned at the neckline, long having discarded the stock. Jessie found herself staring at him more oft than not, powerless to dispel from her mind the memory of his kiss; it kindled a strange warmth within her every time she thought of it.

  Plucking a small yellow blossom, she peered up -at him through her lashes, praying he couldn’t discern the wickedness of her thoughts. She twirled the bloom between her fingertips, wondering how long it would be before he would try to kiss her again.

  Would he?

  Did she wish him to?