Rules for Reforming a Rake (15 page)

She raised her hem, and was about to brush off the dirty footprint, when a large hand suddenly gripped her shoulder. She let out a yelp and turned to her assailant, gloved fists raised. “Honestly, Gabriel!” She uncurled her fists and set one hand over her heart. “You scared the wits out of me. What are you doing in here?”

“Seeking solitude,” he grumbled, his gaze fixed on her ankle, which was exposed to his scrutiny along with the rest of her leg since she’d raised the gown above her knees.

She quickly smoothed the fabric back into place and shot to her feet. “I was here first and I’m trying to be good, so you’ll have to leave immediately.”

“What I’ve seen of you is very good,” he said with an arch of his eyebrow and a rakish gleam in his eyes.

She tipped her chin up and turned away, determined to ignore him. “I suppose you think yourself very witty, but my predicament is serious. I’ve been warned to be on best behavior tonight. That means keeping away from rogues such as you.”

He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her to face him so that her gaze was back on him. “It seems you’ve failed.”

“Did you purposely follow me in here?” Oh, she’d be in for it if her family found them together, especially after the scathing lecture she’d received on the carriage ride over here.

“You look adorable when you scowl.” He cast her a deliciously tender grin that heated her insides more efficiently than any fire ever could. “Your eyes blaze an intense blue and your lips—never mind.” He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts. “What I mean to say is that actually, I was here first. I didn’t follow you anywhere. You followed me.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Why didn’t you speak up when I knocked?”

He tweaked her chin and then released her, folding his arms across his chest. “I was hoping you’d go away.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Well... oh, it doesn’t matter. I’ll go as soon as I fix my hem.”

“Need help?” he asked, bending on one knee beside her.

She gripped his jacket by the shoulders... my, they were massive shoulders... and urged him up. “No, you may not help me,” she declared, suddenly feeling quite small beside him. “I’m quite capable of handling this mishap on my own, and I’ll be in so much trouble if you’re seen in here with me. It’ll cause quite the scandal. I’ll be ruined and you’ll be forced to marry me. Neither of us wants that. So please go away, just for a little while.”

“I suppose I should. That’s rather a large footprint on your dress.”

“I know.” She emitted a ragged sigh. “Please go.”

He shook his head and
tsked
. “It won’t come off with gentle wiping.”

“Any more helpful comments?”

“But you might try gathering the train and holding it like this, and...” Suddenly, he drew her away from the chair, pulled her toward him, and wrapped his hands about her hips.

The momentary feel of his hard body against hers, of his arms gently cradling her and the whispered scent of musk against his skin, tantalized her senses and left her so weak-kneed she was barely able to stand.

Would Alexander Dayne’s touch be as divine?

Oh, it simply didn’t matter. Alexander wouldn’t have her now that she’d kissed his brother with utter abandon. Perhaps had it been a chaste, you-remind-me-of-my-maiden-aunt sort of kiss, it would have been all right. But the kiss they’d shared was one of those you’ll-be-damned-in-hell-for-eternity kisses that could never be taken back. Or forgotten.
Blessed angels
! She’d really liked that kiss.

And once again, Gabriel’s touch was muddling her senses. Why else did she desperately wish to kiss him again? “Stop it, you scoundrel. What are you doing?”

She tried to push away, not from horror, but from shame at her own sense of delight. His hands felt wonderful against her body while he deftly worked to hide the stain by rearranging the drape of her gown.

“Stand still, Daisy. And don’t fidget or you’ll tear the fabric. There, much better. However, you still need something more. Something daring to distract the eye. Ah, yes. This must go.”

He pointed to the lace at her bosom.

She gasped. “You insufferable cabbage head! Are you suggesting I remove my
fichu
?”

He shook his head and laughed. “You’ll expose just enough
there
to draw everyone’s eye away from your hem and toward the endowments with which the Good Lord has blessed you. And make no mistake, you are amply blessed.”

“I hate you,” she whispered, wishing he would stop looking at her as though she were a ripe cherry that he’d like to pick. Only he wasn’t looking at her in a leering, boorish sort of way, but in an oh-hell-I-think-I’m-losing-my-heart-to-you, endearing manner that turned her legs to pudding. Of course, it couldn’t be so. Rakehells were good at pretending.

“No, you don’t, Daisy,” he said, his voice taking on a sudden seriousness. “You simply hate my wicked ways. Sometimes I hate them too.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You do?”

He shrugged. “But not enough to change them.”

“My family thinks I’m wicked too. Oh, I don’t know why I just said that. I suppose I simply want you to understand why I’m so desperate to have you leave.”

He leaned closer and whispered against her ear. “But I like wicked girls.”

She balled her hands into fists and was about to do damage to his manly chin when his tone suddenly mellowed. “Ah, but you’re not really wicked, are you? Everyone just thinks you are because of The Incident. Eloise told me about it, how you were caught in the stable with Lord Kirwood’s lack-wit son, Devlin.”

She gazed at him in defiance. “So what if I was?”

“I am hardly one to pass judgment,” he assured. “However, I don’t believe a word of that fable, about the pair of you being caught while trying to elope. It simply doesn’t ring true.”

“It doesn’t?” She took a deep breath. “Why not?”

“Because I’m your first. The only man ever to kiss you,” he said with such tenderness that she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and cry on his shoulder. “It’s obvious, so don’t bother to deny it. You’ve never been in love, never been swept off your feet, and certainly not by Devlin Kirwood.”

The accuracy of his statement and the tinge of arrogance with which he delivered it unsettled her a little. “You’re wrong, I have been in love. Um, with your brother, Alexander. I think he’s wonderful.”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened, and his lips twisted into a small grin, indulgent and at the same time mirthless. “Yes, well, everyone loves Alex. He is wonderful, as you say. But the Kirwood incident may pose a problem for you. Alex, being perfect in every way, expects the same in his wife.”

She tipped her chin upward again, not quite understanding why she felt the need to defy him. He was the first person to see through Devlin’s lies and believe her. “He’ll forgive me when I explain it to him.”

“Explain what? That you went to the stable hoping to prevent something romantic from happening between you and Kirwood? Staying home, safe in your bed, would have sent Kirwood a more effective message.”

Daisy bit her lip. No, she wasn’t going to reveal the truth about that night! She and Laurel had sworn each other to secrecy. It wasn’t her fault that Devlin Kirwood—that clunch—had tripped and fallen against her at an inopportune time, or that her father had come upon them at just that moment, or that Devlin had lied through his teeth about his plan to elope with
her
, thus giving rise to the false story known from then on as The Incident.

Gabriel’s voice gentled as he spoke. “I’m not sure why you were in the stable that night, but I do know that you’ve unfairly suffered the consequences. It explains why those two fools, Lumley Hornby and Tom Quigley, attempted to kiss you the other night.”

“I don’t care about those oafs.” She gazed into Gabriel’s tawny eyes, curious as to what he might be thinking, but she could discern nothing. “What hurts most,” she admitted, letting out a long, ragged breath, “is the disappointment I see every day in my parents’ eyes. They’ve lost all faith in me, won’t ever trust me again, and I’ve been feeling quite miserable about it for a long time.”

“I know,” he said softly.

She gazed up at him and sighed. “You do?”

He nodded. “They’ll realize their mistake soon enough. I suppose it isn’t much consolation now. However, I know you didn’t do anything wrong. Just remember that whenever you’re feeling particularly low. I know who you really are, Daisy. Any parent would be proud to call you their daughter.”

Her heart welled with joy. Gabriel understood! Why him, of all people?

“Oh, there you go being nice to me again.” She gazed at him in confusion, wishing she understood him half as well as he seemed to understand her. “Even after I uttered that silly remark about being in love with your brother. Truth is, I’ve never even met him.”

Gabriel chuckled lightly. “Perhaps you will one day. He’s a good man, a loyal brother.”

“Is he as nice as you? Not that it matters any more,” she said, slumping her shoulders in surrender. “I had this foolish plan to make my family proud of me by marrying the perfect gentleman. You see, I want so desperately to regain their trust, but something goes wrong every time I try. That kiss we shared, for example. Not that I regret it,” she hastened to add. “I’m glad you were the first to kiss me, Gabriel. You did a commendable job of it.”

He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Did I?”

She nodded. “It was a wonderful first kiss. I suppose I shouldn’t have said that either, what with your ghastly reputation. And I’m certain Lady Forsythia’s book advises never to make such an admission to a rake, but I feel safe with you and relieved... no, elated that you recognize The Incident for the nonsense it is. How can you know me better than my own family does?”

“What book?”

She sighed. “Lady Forsythia Haversham’s
Rules for Reforming a Rake
. Your grandmother loaned it to me. She’s of the misguided opinion that I can change your wicked ways. It’s silly, of course.” She glanced down at her hem. “I can’t even take care of myself.”

She expected a flippant response from Gabriel, but he suddenly looked as though his best friend had died. “You’re just as you ought to be, Daisy Farthingale, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. You have more to offer than you realize.”

“Beyond my ample endowments?” She glanced at her breasts while making the poor attempt at levity.

He followed her gaze, but his smile was more appealing than it was lascivious. Then he stepped back to study her from top to toe, as though he needed to absorb her entire being, needed to remember her the way she looked tonight, the way she smiled and how she moved. “Yes, quite more than we pitiful males deserve.”

Moving quickly and with unwavering purpose, he lightly touched his fingers to her cheek. “I’ve handled this very poorly... indeed, treated you very poorly from the start though you’ve been wonderful to those dearest to my heart, helped them make it through some very difficult years.”

She understood he referred to Eloise.

“Daisy,” he said, his voice whisper soft, “I’m eternally in your debt for that.”

No wonder women found him irresistible. Even Julia had thought him splendid until Lord Malinor and his shillings had distracted her. Of course, Gabriel’s determination never to marry had further dulled Julia’s enthusiasm.

If only she were as sensible about men as her aunt.

Her breath quickened and her cheeks began to heat under the force of his stare. She wished she understood more about men, because Gabriel seemed to be looking at her with an intensity beyond mere lust or base desire.

He let out a soft, animal growl.

Of course, rakes earned their reputations by seduction and pretense. They were masters at feigning interest. What she needed to know, and would have to rely on her older sisters for an answer about, was whether men could fake love. “Well, I had better return to Lord Malinor’s party before I’m missed. Thank you for fixing my gown. It is fixed, isn’t it? What do you think? Am I presentable?”

He responded by sweeping her into his arms and covering her mouth with a hot, most exquisitely uninhibited kiss that set off a fiery tempest in her body, a raging wildfire that scorched a path straight to her heart.

Oh, bad boys were very, very good.

GABRIEL HAD MEANT
only to gently trail his tongue along Daisy’s lower lip and taste lightly of her nectar before dipping into her honey-sweet mouth, but instead he found himself breathless and hungry, plunging his heart and soul into kissing Daisy. He experienced a pleasure so hot and unexpected, so purely sinful and at the same time so divine, that it was beyond anything he’d ever felt before.

No woman had ever affected him like this.

Damn.
His blood and body were on fire, all from a simple kiss. Daisy’s kiss.

“Don’t pull away, Gabriel,” she pleaded, her breasts gently heaving against his chest as she struggled to regain her composure. Or was it his own heart pounding through his chest? She was an innocent, easily bruised, and he was a brute, hot and lusting, needing to touch her
everywhere
and aching to possess her heart.

To what end? A momentary pleasure, and then he’d be gone to scout out the French military positions. He had no illusions about his mission. Chances were, he’d be dead before the end of the month. He eased his hold on the girl. “I must, Daisy.”

One of them had to show some sense. Not for his sake, but for hers. It amazed him, and in truth confused him, that he held this seductive power over the young beauty, yet couldn’t bring himself to take advantage. Oh, perhaps he’d taken a little advantage, but nothing compared to what he wanted to do, needed to do in his current state of arousal. His lust and her innocently passionate nature were a dangerous combination. “I’ve made a mess of you,” he said, his fingers trembling as he smoothed her gown and then attempted to right himself. “Not at all what I intended.”