Rogue for a Night (8 page)

Rage took a long step back at her surprisingly bold statement. “Next time,” he repeated as he tried to recall exactly how one breathed. Was it in and out, for the action seemed very foreign to him in that moment.

She nodded. “Yes. Unless you do not wish to continue this… what would you call it? This affair with me.”

Rage’s chest all but puffed up with the idea that he could have her again. That this time he could make love to her slowly, on his bed, for example. That he could study her every reaction and sigh in order to exploit those things to give her more pleasure.

“I do not feel the need to label what we share,” he said softly. “Only to tell you that it can be whatever you like. Last as long as you wish for it to last. You get to choose, Lucinda.”

Lucinda’s eyes went wide and she blinked a few times before her wide smile thrilled him. “What a novel concept.”

“Then enjoy it.”

Her smile fell, replaced by a sensual expression that would have impressed even the most experienced courtesan. She nodded. “Oh, I intend to do just that. To the fullest.”

She touched her hair and laughed. “But at this moment, I think the best thing for me to do is to sneak back into the house before anyone sees me looking like a wanton.”

“Would you like me to escort you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. The house is but a short way away. And if I were to be caught in your company, certainly no one could be persuaded that we weren’t… well, doing exactly what we did do together. No, you go back up to the party since you look none the worse for our encounter. And I will see you tomorrow?”

He stepped forward and took her hand. Gently, he drew her forward to kiss her one last time… at least for this night. She melted into his embrace. It was different than before. Now that they had made love, she fit differently into his arms. She responded quicker, she relaxed more. It took everything in him not to just sweep her into his arms and have her again, either here or back in his chamber in the house.

In fact, it was Lucinda, who stepped away, slightly off kilter, pink with exertion and pleasure.

“Good night, Ronan,” she murmured before she scurried from the gazebo back up the path toward the kitchen entrance to the manor house.

He watched her make her escape, memorizing each foot fall, the way she held her skirt. And he didn’t look away until she had disappeared around a corner. Only then did he turn and brace himself on the gazebo wall with both hands.

Normally he was a man who planned his every move. A fighter by heart, not just by action. He wanted to plan for his next attack, his next defense. But as much as he had driven this affair with Lucinda, already it had spiraled into something out of his control.

And as uncomfortable as that made him… he also embraced it. And the knowledge that tomorrow he would see her again.

~~~

When would she see him again?

Lucinda shifted in her chair and tried not to look at the parlor door for what seemed like the twentieth time since joining Jane for tea just half an hour before.

“Are you well?” her sister-in-law asked her.

The question dragged Lucinda back to reality… and made her wonder at the answer herself. Was she well? In the way Jane meant it, of course. She was healthy, and aside from missing her daughters, more relaxed than she had been in years.

But then there were the other ways one could be well. Last night she had hardly slept. When she did sleep, she had dreamed of Ronan and making love to him again and again. She had woken alone, frustrated and desperate to see him, almost to verify that what they had done was real and not just some vivid fantasy or dream.

Only Ronan and Nicholas had not joined them thus far today. Something about a long-planned excursion shooting or riding or some equally manly diversion.

“Lucinda?” Jane said and now there was increased concern to her tone.

Lucinda shook away her thoughts. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m well, thank you.”

Jane arched a brow and slowly sipped her tea. “You simply seem very distracted.”

Lucinda nearly sucked her tea into her lungs. Oh dear, she was not good at clandestine affairs, that was certain. Not if everyone in her immediate vicinity could so easily see that her mind flitted about restlessly. She looked at Jane. Over time, she had come to see her sister-in-law as a good friend, and perhaps under other circumstances she might have confessed the reason for her “distraction”. But there was a very strong sticking point.

Jane was married to Nicholas, and she would certainly tell him if Lucinda confessed to making love to Ronan in their garden. Revealing that to his best friend was
not
her place.

So instead of lightening her soul with confession, Lucinda shrugged and hoped she seemed calm and unaffected. “Oh no, not distracted. Just enjoying the quiet, though I do miss my girls.”

Jane nodded slowly and Lucinda could only hope she would accept her half-truth without question. It was certainly a very reasonable explanation.

“Very good,” Jane finally said after what seemed like an eternity of contemplation. “We were quite worried when you vanished from the ball last night.”

Heat flooded Lucinda’s cheeks and she cursed her body for its betrayal. “Well, as I said this morning when you asked me about it, I only had a touch of a headache. I didn’t want to trouble anyone, so I just took to my bed. I feel perfectly fine now.”

There was a long pause and then Jane leaned forward to pour herself a second cup of tea.

“You know, Rage disappeared for some time last night, as well.” Jane lifted her gaze to Lucinda and held her stare evenly. “I wonder if headaches are contagious.”

Lucinda swallowed and struggled to keep her face neutral. She had never been a very good liar.

“Hmm,” she croaked out past a suddenly dry throat that even a huge gulp of tea didn’t soothe. “Well, I wouldn’t know. Did Mr. Riley also say he was suffering a headache?”

Jane shook her head. “No. I mentioned his absence when he returned to our company but you know Rage. He only replied with a shrug. And Nicholas didn’t see it as odd. Rage doesn’t like these events. I just thought it odd that you two would vanish at the same time.”

Now Lucinda’s hands trembled slightly and she gripped her tea cup even tighter. “And did Nicholas also comment on the coincidence?”

Jane laughed. “Nicholas is the man to turn to if you want someone to notice a nefarious character in a crowded room or to find the best horse at an auction… but my dear husband rarely notices little Societal, er, coincidences. And if he does, he sees nothing meaningful in them.”

Lucinda barely contained her sigh of relief. “Well, perhaps that is how we should all be. A coincidence is sometimes just that.”

Jane tilted her head and her stare seemed to pierce Lucinda’s skin and go all the way to her very soul. She didn’t appear judgmental, just curious, as if she were trying to solve a riddle. Her intense scrutiny made Lucinda shift in her chair and her heart beat all the faster.

Finally, Jane shrugged. “You may be correct in that, my dear. In our Society, too often there are coincidences turned to damaging rumor. But you know, Rage is a very handsome man. Many a woman in your station has commented to me on his finer qualities.”

Perhaps Jane meant that comment as a comfort, and Lucinda knew she should be more concerned that Jane was aware that she had an interest in Ronan… but instead she felt…
jealous
. “Other woman have spoken to you about him?”

Jane nodded. “Many, actually. He has a quality about him that is so different from many of the men they know. I think he is a fascination.”

Lucinda pursed her lips. “I see.”

At her tone, Jane’s brow wrinkled. “I only say that because I think no one could blame you if you felt an attraction to him.”

“Oh, some could,” Lucinda murmured, then blushed. “
If
I were to feel such an attraction, I mean.”

Jane stared at her. “Lucinda-”

“There would be consequences to such a thing,” Lucinda interrupted. “And it isn’t as if I know the man that well. Handsome or not, attraction or not, there are other things to consider.”

Jane nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is true, especially since you have children. But I have learned from very personal experience that what others think or do or say really doesn’t matter when it comes to matters of the heart.”

The heart. Lucinda shut her eyes. In all honesty, she wasn’t certain if what was happening between her and Ronan had to do with the heart, or just the lusty demands of a long-denied body.

“And as for knowing him,” Jane said with a shrug. “Any time I have seen you two together since your arrival, you two seem to have an easy rapport. Since you’ll be here for a while longer, it seems the perfect time to become better acquainted.”

Lucinda set her tea cup down and got to her feet. “Goodness Jane, you are creating a situation where there is none. I do like Mr. Riley, I admit. He is an interesting companion, but I-”

Jane raised her hand. “You needn’t say more. I pried and it was not my business.” She stood and reached her hands out to take Lucinda’s. “I only want you to be happy, however you find that emotion. And I hope that if you need a friend to listen to you, you will think of me.”

Lucinda drew a long breath. Jane was only trying to be helpful. There was no reason to behave otherwise. She squeezed her sister-in-law’s fingers gently.

“I know you are a great friend to me,” she reassured Jane. “And I do appreciate your kindness and your concern on my behalf. But I’m afraid I must find my own way.”

Jane nodded but she didn’t seem reassured. “Of course.”

“Now I believe I will retire to my room for a bit. I find myself tired and perhaps a nap will help.”

“Whatever you wish, Lucinda,” Jane said as Lucinda made her way to the parlor door.

Lucinda smiled, but the expression fell as she stepped into the hall. Jane’s words mirrored Ronan’s. Whatever she wished… well, what if she didn’t know what she wished?

She moved up the stairs, her mind racing with each step. Thoughts of Anthony, thoughts of Ronan, thoughts of Nicholas’s reaction if he knew what she had done…. Thoughts of disappointing others, of bringing harm to her children, of becoming too entangled with a man who had and could only offer her brief pleasure. These were thoughts she had debated before she made love to Ronan, but now they all seemed much louder, more intense.

So intense that she did not notice a person come up behind her, follow her into her chamber. Not until she turned to close her door and found herself face to face with the one man who would only confuse all the issues she was currently pondering.

It was Ronan, himself. If he had ever worn a jacket, he had discarded it before coming to her chamber. His cravat had gone with it and his crisp, white shirt was open at the throat, revealing tanned skin. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, leaving his muscular forearms fascinatingly bare.

She wanted to say something. She knew there was probably some appropriate response to his sudden appearance in her room. But she couldn’t think of it. Even if she could have when she first turned, all words and thoughts and rationality left her when he reached back to shut and lock her door.

Chapter Eight

Rage stared at Lucinda for what felt like an eternity before either of them spoke. He had spent a night dreaming of her and a day fantasizing about her, but now that she stood before him, all he could do was memorize each line of her face and wonder at the fact that she had given herself to him so freely and so sweetly.

“Ronan,” she finally whispered and her hand stirred at her side like she wanted to touch his cheek, but forced herself not to do so. “I-I thought you were out with Nicholas for the day.”

He nodded. “We were meant to be, but I managed to convince Stone that he should enjoy having his wife back at home.”

Lucinda smiled, and though it was a smaller version of the bright expression that always so moved him, his heart still stuttered at it.

“Did it take so much convincing?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. When it comes to Jane, Stone needs little convincing of anything. I suppose I never understood that until…”

He stopped. No, he could not compare the desire he felt toward Lucinda to the deep love that Jane and Stone felt. It wasn’t fair, not to them and not to himself.

“Well, I wanted to see you,” he said instead. “I needed to see you and be certain that what happened between us last night was real.”

Lucinda gasped and took a step toward him. “That is exactly how I felt all day. There were times when I wondered if I had only dreamed what happened in the garden.”

Once the words left her lips, she immediately blushed and turned her face.

He reached out and cupped her chin, lifting until she had to look at him.

“It was no dream,” he reassured her as he drew her closer. “And I have longed to repeat it today, only this time in a bed where I can take my time and pleasure you as you deserve to be pleasured.”

Her lips parted and a tiny sound escaped them, a combination of a sigh and a groan. Then she reached up, cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Her ardor surprised him for the briefest of moments, but then he surrendered to it, slanting his mouth over hers and drinking in her flavor like a man who had been deprived sustenance for days. It was as good an analogy as any, for he felt starved for her, hungry and out of control.

If she sensed that animal nature in him, though, she didn’t seem to mind. She returned his kiss with equal passion, intense desperation that gave him a sense of primal male pride.
He
had done this to her. He had made her needy and weak. And he could pleasure her until she wept and begged and shattered with relief and release.

He spun her around until he pressed her back to the door and broke the kiss. He stared deeply into her eyes as he ground against her, letting her feel the hard ridge of his erection, tormenting himself even as she gurgled out an incoherent sound of needy desire. Holding her steady with his hip, he reached up and popped the little buttons that ran along the front of her gown. They fell open and he tugged, pulling her dress away in one sweep and leaving her only in her chemise.