A Lady's Guide to Kiss A Rake: Misadventures of the heart (7 page)

While Jo had put some distance between them, she still overhead Craven’s amused voice when he said, “I see you’re still your charming self.”

“Go to hell.” Came the reply, followed by the stomping footsteps of someone following her. St. Aldwyn seized her arm and proceeded to drag her to the far corner of the room.

“Let me go,” she hissed, having seen her brother witness their exchange and begin to make his way through the crowd, his face like a thundercloud. She only possessed a few precious moments before her brutish brother reached them. “What has gotten into you?”

That seemed to bring him up short.

“I simply have to taste your sweetness again,” he replied.

For pity’s sake.

“Tell me you want me to kiss you again.”

“I can’t, my brother will be on us in a moment,” she pleaded in a whisper.

“Tell me or I will kiss you now for your dear brother to see.”

“You would not dare!” Jo gasped, her eyes wide.

“Tell me or you can explain to your brother why you allowed me to take such liberties.”

Jo stared up at him, saw the truth in his eyes, the desire. Her breath caught. She wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted to be pressed up against his hard chest, strong arms holding her captive.

“Yes, I do want to kiss you,” she admitted on a sigh. A heated spark entered his eyes, but it disappeared with her next words, “But we can never do so again.”

“And why is that?”

He seemed angry, but Jo could not dwell on the handsome man who stood before her. He’d flirted with many women in his life, shared their beds. Jo was not like those women. She would never be able to separate her heart from the deed and it became clear she’d be way out of her league where Damien was concerned. 

“We just can’t,” she whispered, looking over to see (with relief) that her brother had been detained by one of the Middletons.

St. Aldwyn leaned close, his scent overpowering her senses, and lowered his voice. “You are scared.”

Jo managed a snort.

“Perhaps not scared, but you, my lady, enjoy the element of danger. So why not live dangerously and kiss me again?”

Because my heart would never survive it
.

She chose her words with care. “As I’ve said, it cannot happen again.”

“Am I not dangerous enough for you then?”

“Too dangerous.”

He flashed a wicked grin.

“My brother will be upon us soon, you need to go, please, my lord.”

His mouth curled in displeasure. “You persist in calling me ‘my lord’ but still call Craven by his first name.”

True, but then her heart was not in any danger from Craven. What Damien failed to understand was she had no interest in Craven. She never had. Yet for some reason his mind had latched onto the notion and would not let it go. To keep him at a distance, it seemed easier for him to believe she had set her cap on Craven. But it only fueled his determined to meddle in her affairs.

Another glance at her brother revealed he’d escaped Holly’s clutches and was barreling her way.

“Craven and I have formed a friendship of sorts.” And with that said, Jo turned and started to move away, leaving him to ponder
that
statement.

But his hand shot out to grasp her wrist. “You do understand that I fully intend to seduce you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I’m bored and if I recall, you threw down the gauntlet when you implied that his kiss was much better than mine.” When Jo only lifted a brow he continued in a more seductive tone, “And deep down, you desire me.”

“Your confidence is misplaced, my lord,” Jo said, already stalking away.

He flashed another wicked grin, this time letting her go. “My confidence is never misplaced.”

Chapter 7

The following evening Josephine attended a ball held by Lord and Lady Weatherly, dressed in a simple gown of green silk, having decided it best not to aggravate her brother any further for the time being. It had taken hours of explanations and arguing for her brother to even allow her to set foot out of the house. Unsurprisingly, he did not approve of her recent choice of wardrobe and her consortment with certain gentlemen.

She slipped out onto the terrace with a breath of relief, sipping on a glance of wine she’d snatched from a footman’s tray. At this very moment, her brother fended off the advances of Willow, while St. Aldwyn had yet to make an appearance. It presented the perfect opportunity to slip away to meet James, who wished to deliver urgent information on the plan to rescue Lady Constance.

Her lashes fluttered closed and Jo inhaled the crisp night air. How delightful and refreshing after hours of enduring a stuffy ballroom. Out here one could breathe and clear one’s mind.

She feared the task that lay ahead may be much riskier than they first envisioned, after some research on Lady Constance’s husband. The man was a tyrant, uncaring of the law. He sparked fear in to the hearts of everyone he came in to contact with and did not suffer disobedience. The task may even prove impossible to accomplish.

There existed no room for mistakes, which meant no room for kisses or any manner of seduction from a certain lord. However, she did not foresee St. Aldwyn being much of a problem. For one, his meddlesome interference did not include any hours during the day. Since their plan would most likely take part in the day, she would not need to avoid him so tirelessly.

“I must confess,” a quiet voice pierced the darkness, “I do not much care for the way St. Aldwyn has been following my every step.”

Eyes flying open, Jo whirled toward the dark voice.

Craven stood few feet away, leaning against the balustrade. His arms were thrown casually over one another and his long legs crossed at the ankles. He seemed the picture of perfect relaxation—except for his eyes. They appeared watchful and cold, instead of lazy and warm. His hair—a reddish brown mass of unruly waves—hung carelessly on his shoulders, much like St. Aldwyn’s, although on St. Aldwyn the look appeared more savage than handsome. Ironic really, since Damien’s eyes were never cold, but always warm. Even so, both men symbolized sin, temptation, and wickedness combined in one irresistible package. Funnily enough, unlike St. Aldwyn, Craven would never hold her interest. She may exhibit wicked thoughts in Craven’s presence but when she looked at Damien… she
felt
them.

Perhaps because she’d met St. Aldwyn first, perhaps even because of the warmth in his eyes. She did not know. It may even be because his presence had always been there, reminding her of his allure. Or perhaps the quandary lay not with the men, but her heart.
Gah, stop it, Jo!

“Lady Jo?”

“Really, Lucien,” Jo murmured on a breathless whisper, but not from desire.  “Must you lurk about like that, frightening unsuspecting ladies?”

“My apologies,” his lips twitched. “I did not mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” she returned with a snort. “But you meant to do precisely that. Why else would you skulk in the shadows, not making a sound, allowing me to believe I was alone?”

“Why else indeed.”

His voice, a soothing rumble, never failed to cause a shiver. He possessed one of those voices you could listen hours to, lulling you into a comfortable, relaxed state of mind. Goodness, wine did indeed loosen ones thoughts, Jo mused.

“You are not following me, are you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing on him, St. Aldwyn’s proneness coming to mind.

“So suspicious for a lady,” he murmured.  “But I suppose with your beau nothing short of stalking your every step, you have every reason to be suspicious. Alas, I happened to be here when you came out.”

“Yes well, perhaps I should return inside.”

Aware James would show up at any moment, she turned to leave. It was bad enough Craven thought Damien stalked her, if he learned she met with another man alone on a terrace he may presume her to be some light skirt, prone to disappearing with men in dark places.

“Wait.”  He caught her arm in a gentle grip, his body so close his breath touched her skin. When had he moved so close?

“I am sorry, my lady. I did not mean to upset you.”

Upset. He thought her upset? Inside the drawing room the music fell away and laughter floated out onto the terrace. If James did not make an appearance soon, another couple might.

“You did not upset me. I merely wished to be alone for a moment,” Jo said, turning to go.

“Then perhaps,” he persisted, drawing her near, “the drawing room is not the best place to be at the moment. Besides, St. Aldwyn may loiter inside and then you will have lost your chance at a small reprieve.”

A bubble of laughter spilled from her lips. True, but if he or her brother caught them alone together, Jo would not be the one who would be in need of a small reprieve. She spared a glance over her shoulder at the drawing room and took note of James, who had caught sight of her company. Oh bother!

She turned her green eyes back to Craven and saw that he’d noted her exchange.

She stepped away from him and he let her go, yet she did not retreat to the doors again. Instead, she took a step away from them, out of view from anyone else wondering by. Curious as to Craven’s persistence, she stared at him with innocent expectance.   “I take it you have something on your mind.”

His eyes widened in appraisal. She had been right.

“You are perceptive, my lady.”

“Or just smart,” she pointed out, enjoying another sip of her wine.

His eyes thoughtful as he assessed her, they drifted over her face, and then lower, over her bodice before returning her stare.  “My, my,” he commented with a humorless voice.  “No more flirtation, I suppose?”

“You suppose correct.” Jo tilted her head and studied him over the rim of her glass. He did not seem to care if that was the case or not. She got the impression of him being more wary of allowing anyone inside his heart, than the cold heartless man he would have everyone believe. He hid behind his cold exterior, behind the mask of a rogue. She still harbored no delusions about him.

“There are rumors of your activities, but I never imagined them to be true until I saw him.” His eyes flicked beyond her to the door and a sense of foreboding traveled down her spine. Those ice blue eyes settled on her again and any doubt Jo may have fostered evaporated.

“You are a handsome man, Lucien, no doubt used to women falling at your feet, but I will not be one of them, nor will I be threatened. What do you want?”

The lazy grin never wavered from his face as she spoke, but she caught a glimpse of respect flash in his eyes.

“Right to the point,” he said in approval, “but no threat, Lady Jo. I wish to participate.”

Jo blinked, certain she had not heard correctly. He wanted aid them? No, he wished to participate. A big difference.

“Where did you hear these rumors?” she asked, although Jo had her suspicions.

“You would be surprised by how much one learns, if one knows where to look and what to search for.”

How very vague.

“And since it’s clear you do not nurture any designs on me, there is no further need for games.”

His voice held a sensual note. His words flowed over her like…like...Jo shook it off.  He may be in possession of a voice that reminded Jo of angels singing in harmony, but he was still dangerous.

“My intention has always been one kiss,” she admitted. “Nor am I fool enough to believe that you suffer any designs on me. Now, let us get to the point. Why do you want to participate?”

He shrugged. “I’m bored.”

Something in his voice gave her pause. Could there be more than he let on?

“How did you know what to search for?”

“Excuse me?”

“I merely batted my lashes. Why would you search for anything?”

His lips twitched. “I may have contemplated for a brief moment that you were playing St. Aldwyn against me,” he answered. “The coincidence, you see, struck me as odd.”

“What coincidence?” Jo demanded.

“You seemed to be within my reach every time St. Aldwyn arrived,” he said noncommittally. “Then I remembered your quip about kidnapping me if I learned your secrets, which gave me pause. I still wasn’t sure, until I saw your exchange with James Shaw moments ago. Quite the men you are acquainted with, heh.”

Jo stared at him dumbfounded.

He continued, “St. Aldwyn may now be hounding your every step because of me, but he started because of Shaw. Now Shaw, he has called on Richmond, which can only be because of his niece. Cartwright is a dangerous man, my lady.”

Astonishment lit her eyes. The way he’d figured out their plan was nothing short of alarming. Was there a sign stamped on her back that read “
I’m planning to kidnap Lady Constance?
” James had to be informed post-haste of this new development.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.”

Jo spun around to leave, panicked, but Craven caught her arm. This time, his grip unrelenting, he jerked her to him. His icy blue eyes bore down on her, narrow and suspicious. For an instant they just stood there, staring at each other when suddenly, Craven cursed softly. Then his lips came crashing down upon hers in a brutal force.

It was a kiss meant to teach her a lesson. Jo had to admit that perhaps she needed to be taught a lesson. How else was she to learn to heed caution when someone warned her of danger? On the other hand, the last time Craven had kissed her they were rudely interrupted, so it offered the perfect opportunity to see if he measured up to Damien. Jo supposed she should have realized her current reflections meant all rational thought had left her mind and that she indeed, played a dangerous game. But instead of pushing him away, she rose onto her tiptoes.

So far as kisses fared, it seemed pleasant enough—as to be expected—but not nearly as earth shattering as Damien’s had been. Deliberately, her palms slid up the front of his coat, and then her fingers curled into the softness of his hair, just as she had done with St. Aldwyn.

His lips molded over hers again and again, seductive and sinful. And when his tongue teased lightly across her lips, Jo melted against him, and opened, inviting his tongue to slide silkily along hers. In the back of her mind warning bells sounded. The music, the loud chatter, everything seemed to disappear in the background, everything except…
Damien.
Damn, Craven’s kiss did not come close to igniting a raging fire within her. For a long, disappointing moment, he deepened the kiss, pulling her up against him as his tongue plundered her mouth, to no avail.

She was about to push him away when his lips were torn away from hers, and left Jo swaying in his embrace, blinking her eyes as if dazed. Not because of the kiss, but at the utter realization that she felt nothing. Bad news indeed, because it meant that if Craven, with his angelic beauty and sinful mouth could not ignite passion from her, no other man would. That blasted rake called St. Aldwyn had ruined her. A shocking revelation, one she had no interest in pursuing. At the moment.

Craven cursed again, this time more vehemently. “This has to stop.”

“What?” Jo asked, disoriented from the wine or the unwelcome revelation.

He gave a soft, rueful smile. “My dear, you are on the verge of ruination and I am on the verge of losing what little control I have left. I am not a man to deny myself the simple pleasures, so this has to stop.”

Jo nodded, her cheeks flaming and guilt unfurling. She possessed the power to make him loose control while she portrayed but mild interest, and not in the way he preferred.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the view of the drawing room, muttering, “No harm has been done.”

But that was not true, Jo acknowledged. Lucien may only have kissed her again, but inside she still trembled. His kiss had made something perfectly clear—she needed to find a way to stay away from Damien.

Jo took a step away from Craven, closer to the exit. 

“Do you not think it best to tell me what you are attempting to do?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“With St. Aldwyn,” he clarified, his arms crossing his chest. “What is going on between the two of you? You wish to make him jealous? I thought you above such petty ministrations.”

Jo tried to keep her expression blank but couldn’t quite keep the scowl from her face. “There is nothing between us.”

“He does not act like a man with nothing between you.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately it dates back to before I even met you. His hackles have been raised ever since.”

He laughed softly. “So he took it upon himself to save you from your little projects, has he?”

Jo stared at him in shock. “How did you know?”

He lifted his shoulders. “I make it a habit of knowing everything about a woman who wishes to gain my attention.”

There lay a wealth of meaning behind his words—regardless, his skills of observation bordered on genius. They may have use for him yet, for the most part since James’s brother would not be back in time to aid them.  “I will take your offer under consideration.”