Page 35 of Rogue Lyon

“How can you say that?” She opened her eyes. “We would be the talk of the ton if word got out.”

“I’m not breathing a word of our private time to anyone, are you?”

“No, of course not.” She was breathing fast, her breasts pressing against her gown and the soft flesh rising and falling. “Why would I?”

“Then we have nothing to fear.” He stood and walked to the wine tray, pouring two glasses. “Here, drink this. Tell me more about chess strategy. I need to know because I need to win.” He refrained from adding how much he wanted to defeat the duke.

She took the wine and gulped back half of it.

He smiled and sat opposite, pleased that some of the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders. “Shall I begin?”

“Yes.” She leaned forward. “But before you do, tell me each move I might make. In fact, that will be the lesson. Guessing your opponent’s every move before you make your own. That way, you will never be caught off guard.”

Jules believed there were hidden meanings behind her words. She wasn’t just talking about chess, she was talking about him and not being caught off guard again in his presence.

He rubbed his palms together and concentrated on the chess pieces.

Soon, they were playing an exciting game. Or it was for him, at least. And he was animated and challenged as he explained the rationale for each of his moves.

Meredith finished her wine and appeared to relax in his company—finally—and her focus was on the game she was so darn good at.

Eventually, the clock struck ten-thirty and the lesson was over.

It would be a dark walk home to a cold bed and Jules was in no rush to leave his pretty company.

“You have played well.” Meredith stood. “I believe you may stand half a chance at the tournament.”

Jules also stood, and laughed. “I want more than half a chance. I intend to win it.”

“You are not the best player…yet.”

“So,” he said, stepping closer to her. “Give me extra lessons, private, away from here.”

She backed up, gripping the chair. “That would not be…wise.”

“Why not?” He crowded her and caught a whiff of her sweet, flowery scent. “I will make it worth your while. I’ll split my winnings.”

“I do not need your money.”

Her pupils were wide as she looked up at him and he could see the candlelight flickering in their depths.

“But I need you,” he said softly.

“Jules…you can’t say that kind of thing.” She retreated farther, until her shoulders hit the wall. “Your impropriety is quite shocking.”

Good. He liked shocking.

He followed her and set his palms flat on either side of her head. Her body heat radiated onto him and a familiar rush of desire flooded his veins. She was so alluring, so unique, he wanted her for himself. “Why can’t I say that kind of thing?”

“Because… Because you hardly know me. We can’t… I can’t… It’s scandalous.”

He tipped his mouth into a grin. “A little scandal keeps life interesting, don’t you think?”

“You have made my life quite interesting enough.” She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip as though remembering their kisses. “Thank you very much.”

“I intend to make it more so.”

“No, I… Please… Mrs. Dove-Lyon would not understand and—”