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He was right. It was the least ladylike action of which she’d ever partaken. Worse than when she’d allowed Rathemore to kiss her. Hadn’t she just been going on about how she needed to stay out of trouble? Her face heated as the reality of what she had just done set in. “I’m terribly sorry.” Turning from his knowing gaze, she headed for the door.
Her eyes welled with tears that she dashed away. What was wrong with her? Why would she bait him like that? She’d accused him of being a rake but one look at the skin of his arms and she’d near lost her senses.
If she hadn’t been certain before, she was now. She could not travel with Rex. Violette would have to marry and then come fetch her.
The thought of missing her sister’s wedding made her pulse thrum and more tears well in her eyes. Could she have made this day any worse?
“Petal,?
? Rex called behind her.
He didn’t stop, and she sped up. “Please leave me be.”
“I shan’t.” He wrapped his hand about her waist, spun her around and then crushed her up against his chest. “Tell me why you’re so upset.”
His body was achingly hard and warm and her pulse beat even more wildly. “I…” She swallowed a lump that had risen in her throat. No words but the truth came to mind and so, in a complete act of weakness, she allowed them to tumble out. “I can’t help myself. I am drawn to rakes.”
He dropped his head and for a wild moment she thought he would kiss her. As if to confirm her worst fears, she realized that she desperately, breathlessly, wanted him to. But instead, he dropped his head into the crook between her neck and her shoulder. “Most ladies are, Petal. And most are far less virtuous then they allow society to see. It’s nothing to be upset about.”
“Yes, but I was nearly ruined and now I am careening toward disaster and I—” Her throat clogged once more so that no more words could come out.
“I told you. Your virtue is safe with me. Though, if you lick your finger like that again, I may have to pluck out my own eyes.” He’d wrapped his other arm about her so that she was cradled against him. It was the most delicious place she’d ever rested. “Tonight, after Jacob goes to bed, you will tell me what happened with your other rake.”
“Other rake?” she asked, a wave of shock traveling down her body as her voice squeaked out. “How did you know?”
“You said rakes. I made the assumption there was more than just me,” he whispered.
But another voice called from down the hall. As she blinked away tears she saw Jacob moving toward her. He must have finished filling the wood box. “I told him about Rathemore. I’m sorry.”
“You told him about Rathemore?” she repeated dumbly, pulling away to look into his face.
“Tonight,” he mouthed before he stepped back and turned toward Jacob. “Let’s finish dinner, shall we?”
Jacob looked at her. “Why did you run out of the kitchen?”
“I…” Nothing, absolutely nothing, came to mind.
“She caught her fingernail with the knife and was worried she’d cut herself but she’s fine.” Rex gave an easy smile.
She looked at him, her breath catching. Not only was he handsome as sin but the man was a complete liar.
* * *
Rex followed her back to the kitchen. His body a riot of pulsing need and watching the sway of her hips as she walked was not helping. Holding her hadn’t been wise either nor had it been very smart to watch her lick her finger. Though he’d go to his grave remembering what that luscious mouth looked like as she’d cleaned the digit.
I should just marry her. He gave his head a shake. He couldn’t marry her, it wouldn’t be fair. He had proven himself the worst kind of husband and Petal…she deserved the best.
But he could protect her from the rakes of the world. Who knew them best but a man who had been one? Been one? He was one currently. And protection would require him to stay in England. Would he have someone manage his Barbados holding the way his English ones had been run? Bloody hell, what was happening in his head? He blamed those hips. Those luscious, curvy, tempting-beyond-sanity hips. Or perhaps it was her mouth, whether licking things or throwing bards, it was a cacophony of delights.
He wasn’t marrying, and he wasn’t staying in England. He was returning to Barbados after his friend’s wedding to let the sun burn away his past regrets.
Returning to the kitchen, Jacob looked in the stove. “Looks ready,” he called.
“Time to stuff the bird?” Petal looked over at him, her luminous brown eyes so innocent. “We’ve rubbed the skin down already.”
He held back a growl of frustration. She’d licked her finger to torture him, was she doing it again? He pictured himself rubbing her skin down and then filling…
Her expectant look was completely innocent as she turned to him.
