Page 70 of Rogue Lyon

Meredith put everything from her mind, even whom she was playing against, and set about challenging her pupil’s skills for strategy.

When Jules got up and refilled his glass, still, he didn’t speak and neither did she.

Eventually, she beat him. But only just and he’d made her work hard for the victory.

“Well done.” He sat back and crossed his arms, studying her. “You always were too shrewd for me.”

“‘Shrewd’?”

“You’re clever, very clever. There is no denying that.”

“If were as clever as you think, I wouldn’t have let you seduce me in Paris.” She stared him in the eye.

“Meredith.” He stood and went to the wall, set his palms on it, and bowed his head.

She stared at his wide back and the way his pants hugged his butt.

“Don’t you see?” he said, still with his back to her. “You seduced me.” He blew out a long breath.

“What?” She stood, the chair legs scraping on the floor. “How can you possibly say that?”

“I could not resist.” He turned and flicked his hand her way in a sharp gesture. “You got me here.” He used the same hand to press his chest. “In a way no one has before.”

Her heart was pounding. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” A frown line marred his brow and for the briefest of moments, confusion slashed through his eyes. “There is nothing I can do about it.”

She blinked rapidly a few times and hoped emotion wouldn’t overwhelm her. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Jules Habsburg, don’t you see? I’m not a marrying kind. I’m the talk of the ton… Just ask Mrs. Dove-Lyon. It could never work between us.”

“You have made that clear several times.” Meredith walked to the door with her chin tipped. “But don’t worry, the only results you will have of our time together is a good chance at winning the tournament.”

“I want more.” He suddenly clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lingered on her flesh.

She was breathing fast. The candles flickered in the draft of the open door and danced on his face. “What do you mean?”

“Can we be friends?”

His words were a dagger to her heart. “And… And how would I find myself a husband if I am seen stepping out with you anymore than I already have?”

He frowned. “‘A husband’?”

“Yes, I am an unmarried woman, Jules, or were you still living in our delusion and believing me to be spoken for?”

“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “Don’t find a husband, please. If frequent ravishing is what you want, then be my mistress. I will fund you a house in Chelsea and we can be together whenever—”

Meredith slapped him across the cheek. Hard. The crack echoed. She’d put real muscle into it and the sound of flesh on flesh was as satisfying as she’d hoped it would be.

How dare he?

He clasped his jawline and his eyes widened. Shock pulled his mouth into a perfect ‘O.’

“I will not be anyone’s mistress,” she hissed as she nodded at the door. “What I have done is bad enough and would turn my father in his grave, but what you suggest… That is not how he would wish me to live, or how I would wish myself to live.” Her eyes stung with unspilled tears. “Now go. Leave. And I wish you luck at the tournament, for I will not see you alone before that or after.”

“But…Meredith, damn and blast, I didn’t meant to cause you offense.” His cheek was rapidly flaring red. “You must understand.”

“But you did cause me offense and in doing so showed your true feelings for me.” She found her hand sliding to her belly. “I am not worthy of a real wedding ring. Now leave before I call for Lysander.”