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She reached for one of the posts on her bed, and holding it with both hands, stood up, leaning her weight against it. She was truly lovely, not just because her corset accentuated her supple curves, and her thick blonde hair trailed about her shoulders. But because the spark of intelligence that lit her eyes along with her fortitude called to him. He adored a challenge.
She drew in a deep breath. “That is none of your concern.”
He walked closer, keeping his movements slow. Her eyes widened and her chest heaved her rather ample bosom. Not so large as to be out of proportion but nice and full. It was lovely, really. He forced his gaze from her delectable curves and his thoughts from how those curves might fill his hands. “Oh but it is. Because it was my room that you actually entered and because, if you are taking requests for lovers, I’d like to be considered for the position.” It was bordering on cruel. She had no intention of taking a lover, and he would not ruin an innocent lady but he had to force her into a spot where she began telling the truth.
Her answering gasp confirmed everything he needed. He’d nearly reached her now and her shallow breaths made her breasts heave. The sight nearly undid him. For a moment he wanted to forget all about pressing her for information and instead, he wanted to press her body against his. “You, my lord, are a terrible rake.”
He chuckled, the sound of her breathy voice doing little to bring him back to his senses. “I fear that is true.”
Her hands tightened on the post, her knuckles white in the soft light. “Are you also a gambler, a drunk, and a thief?” she asked.
He stopped moving and he brought his gaze back up to hers. “What?” He fixed his gaze to hers, his mind slowly digesting what she’d just said. He was normally far quicker, but she’d addled his brain. But her last word…thief was important. She’d been searching his room. She’d just accused him of stealing. She thought he had something of hers. Bloody hell.
She swallowed then her lips pressed together before she spoke. “There are a great many rumors that surround you, my lord.”
Will was tired of this game. Not of her. She was the most interesting person he’d met in quite some time. But he did not like her accusation. He’d heard it many times and it had never bothered him before. To the contrary, he’d intentionally developed a dreadful reputation to cover his tracks. But somehow, on her lips, it made his insides clench to know that was what she thought of him. Even knowing that she wasn’t actually taking a lover, and not really rejecting him, it bothered him that she did think he was thief and that she’d been searching his room. “Then I will refer you to your father’s earlier comment. Be careful believing in rumors, my lady.”
He should go. He’d learned what he’d come here to discover. At least why she was in his room. Of course, as was always true, one answer brought about more questions. What was she looking for? How did she decide to look to him to find it?
“You just confirmed you are what they say…” Rose let go of the post and took a step toward him. “A rake. If that is true, it stands to reason that the other rumors might be as well.”
Will assessed her again. In some corner of his mind, he had to honestly admit he was impressed. Though she’d given up her game without meaning to,—she was dealing with a trained spy after all—she had also set him back on his heels. Men far more adept at foul pursuits hadn’t been able to do what she had just accomplished. Of course, those men did not addle his brain with lush and heaving chests. But still, if they’d been playing chess, she’d have put him in check at the very least. It was time, however, to turn the tables back in his favor again. “I doubt the ton has any real information on my activities, my lady. It’s all hearsay and conjecture. For example, they will never know that I snuck into an innocent debutante’s room this evening and kissed her senseless.”
“I beg your par—” she started but he didn’t allow her to finish.
Instead, he wrapped his arm about her waist and pulled her up against him. Cupping her cheek with his other hand, he firmly, deliberately pressed his lips to hers. He felt her gasp, as she sucked his breath into her mouth.
She brought her hands to his chest as he guided her lips closed again and then opened them, deepening the kiss. He’d reckon she was about to push him away and so he touched his tongue to hers. Then her hands gathered up his shirt while she clung to him.
She tasted of clover, soft and sweet, as he kissed her over and over, exploring the delicate hollows
of her mouth. Her body gathered to his and for a moment, he considered unlacing the rest of her corset, pulling off her chemise and kissing every inch of her to see if the rest of her body was equally delicious.
But he wasn’t here to make love to an innocent. His goal was simply to unsettle her, never mind that she was wreaking havoc on him with her innocent enthusiasm.
Her soft moan nearly undid the last of his resolve. She tasted better than any woman he had ever known. His entire body was as tense as a bowstring with the desire that filled him. But he ended the kiss and slowly stepped away. With a small salute, he backed out the French doors. He’d get more answers from his innocent little lying temptress tomorrow.
Chapter Three
Rose watched him leave wondering what had just happened. For a brief shining moment, she’d had the upper hand. Then that blasted man had turned the tables on her…again.
She brought her fingers to her lips and touched the swollen flesh. The kiss had been everything she’d dreamed her first kiss would be. And Lord Addington looked as though he had stepped directly out of one of her daydreams, the sort every young lady had. Except, of course, instead of being a dashing hero, he was a thieving rake. Try as she might to explain to her racing pulse that he wasn’t at all appropriate, it didn’t appear to want to listen.
Crossing the room, she closed the doors to the patio and then clicked the lock into place. She might be hot tonight, but she couldn’t risk another surprise visit from a devilishly handsome man. Then she unlaced her corset, and flopped onto her bed.
She should change into a nightrail, undo the pins from her hair. Instead, she lay staring at the canopy above her on the large bed, reliving every moment of that kiss along with many of the exchanges that had happened before it.
Rolling onto her stomach, she sighed. If she were going to lay awake, she should make plans on how to find her mother’s jewelry instead of daydreaming about a man who didn’t exist. Well, technically, Lord Addington existed, but her mind was creating a fiction around him where he was actually gallant and noble. Perhaps he wasn’t a thief but an agent of good, trying to catch wrong doers and the like. She sighed at her own silliness.
Pushing off the bed, she crossed the room and sat at her dressing table to begin removing the pins from her hair. As she pulled the pins, the locks tumbled down her back. She gathered them into a thick braid and tied a ribbon at the end. She was certain she’d lost her chance to search Lord Addington’s room. Even if she could get in again when he was gone, she’d lost the element of surprise. He now knew she’d be looking and could hide anything of value.
Nibbling at her lip, she propped her elbows on the surface of the table and rested her chin on her closed fists. Since she could no longer search his room, she’d have to follow him instead to find proof he was a thief. She ignored the tiny thrill that raced down her spine at the thought of watching him. It was a matter of finding the truth, not of observing his broad shoulders and narrow torso. She wouldn’t be distracted but his full lips on hers or his arms around her…she stopped herself.
“Ugh,” she said aloud and then closed her eyes. Tomorrow would be a busy day. She’d need her strength.
Sleep took a long time to come and she woke the next morning with puffy eyes and a dull pain in her temples. Lack of rest and the fact that she still had learned nothing tangible made her rather grumpy as she made her way to breakfast.
Walking into the morning room, very few were about and she assumed that most of the assembled guests had been up late into the evening. But at one end of the table, sat Lord Addington along with her host, Lord Perrault. To Perrault’s right sat the widow, Lady Crawley. Rose stopped, dread filling her as she assessed the situation.
