Page 9 of Buon Natale, My Wicked Rogue (Wicked Widows’ League #18)

He drew his dark brows together with exaggerated effect. “Yes, I am glad you noticed how romantic I can be. I’d like to get credit for all my wooing.”

She laughed at his mock seriousness. “Yes, you get credit.”

He had made this week so romantic.

“Besides, rowing this boat gives me a chance to show off my muscular development.” He winked at her and began rowing with increased vigor.

As he rowed the boat, his upper arm muscles strained against his sleeves, and she had to admit that he possessed a fine musculature. She was sure that he was well aware of that fact. So, she laughed and looked away, back to the shoreline.

“I think we can let the boat coast a bit.” At the sound of his voice, she turned to him.

He let go of the oars and scooted close to her.

The intense look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat, and suddenly, she felt hot all over.

He came closer, and the scent of his citrus and spice cologne, now so familiar, made her ache deep in her belly.

He put his mouth on hers, pressing his lips on hers with gentle yet firm pressure.

A deliciously tender kiss.

One that slowly grew more heated as they opened their mouths and their tongues caressed. He tasted of the wine they had drunk, but underneath, he tasted of fire and spice and something sweeter than wine and far headier.

She opened her eyes, sneaking a peek at him through her lashes.

His eyes were not closed. He watched her intently as though committing her face to his memory for the first time.

The intensity of his gaze sent a fluttery feeling through her chest. Her earlier verbal responses had been intentionally understated, of course.

He was absolutely the most thrillingly romantic man, and this week had been like something from a dream.

He touched the undersides of her breasts.

Despite her dress and stays and his suede gloves, his touch was still like fire.

She wished he would pull her onto his lap, as was his wont when they were in the house.

He would pull her into his lap and kiss and pet her until his erection, which felt so wonderfully hard and huge, would press and throb against her buttocks.

But she suspected the boat might go topside if he did that here.

His hands brushed over her aching nipples, and she moaned and arched into his touch.

“Your little nipples are so tight they are piercing me through that armor of clothing that you wear.”

Her face flamed. He often spoke so directly about such matters. It embarrassed her a little. It made her sex clench a lot. She wouldn’t have guessed that about herself.

“Must you dress like such a little Puritan?”

“We’re back to criticizing the way I dress?”

“Wait, let me see if I can improve things.” He pulled away from her and removed his gloves. Then he began undoing the buttons on the white collar of her dark green day dress.

“Evan, not here.”

He ignored her and soon had the little collar open, revealing the tops of her breasts. He placed his hand on her swelling flesh. “That’s much better. Now I can look at your lovely breasts while you stare at the shore.”

So far, they had only kissed, and he would pet her breasts.

When the weather allowed, they spent the past week walking about the woods, riding horses, and having picnic lunches.

They played chess. Upon learning that she loved to paint, he’d sent his valet, Oliver, into Brighton to fetch some watercolors and easels and had even tried his own hand at painting some fruit in a bowl, and then he had good-naturedly shared a laugh with her over his results.

He was an enthusiast about all aspects of winemaking.

She loved to drink wine, but never before had she considered the topic so deeply as when listening to him talk about it with such energy and enjoyment.

He had an excellent wine cellar here, and she had begun to drink a bit more than she should.

But why not? This time was a dream, apart from reality.

At night, she played the piano while he accompanied her on a wonderfully crafted antique lute.

He knew so many old English and French folk songs and love songs.

He read her poetry and stories about the Arabian Knights from the One Thousand and One Nights and other fairy tales. He brought her roses and wildflowers.

“So, is this what a woman like you came to England to find? Did you hope to find an English earl who would row you about the lake?” he asked.

Her belly tightened, just an edge of nervous tension. How many ways would he be able to ask this same question? Why did she come to England? No, really, why did she come to England?

The man asked again and again.

And he was asking something that she could not tell him the truth about, at least not yet. She sighed. “I came to England to find some fun and adventure.”

The words sounded so trite to her. But then she’d uttered them countless times over the past week. To be fair, he’d also asked her about herself and the other people in her life. He was especially interested in her time in America.

To have such a handsome, captivating man so interested in her and her life was gratifying to her vanity.

She’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that to herself.

To have made a romantic conquest of a nobleman was heady, especially considering how her ducal father had never connected with her all those years.

But there was more to this than that. Evan was becoming a friend. They had much in common, and they loved many of the same things.

They had long, deep conversations. He knew so much about her marriage, her disappointments, her happy memories of her father-in-law, and her sadness over losing her dog the year before. He also knew all about her love of managing the business and how thrilled she was to manage her investments.

And they shared kisses. So many kisses.

So far, it had been a wonderful affair. A delicious infatuation.

She had learned little about Evan, however.

He had lost his father five years ago, so like her, he’d lost a father figure recently.

But he had a loving uncle, the Duke of Holsworthy.

Evan was his uncle’s heir, and one day, he would inherit the title.

Evan had found the life of a wealthy nobleman tedious, and so he did some work for the government, though he wouldn’t specify what that work was.

He said it was too boring for conversation.

The last personal thing she had learned about Evan was that he had had the same valet since his late adolescence.

The man’s name was Oliver, and he was a short, stout fellow with brown hair and brown eyes and possessed a clever sense of humor.

But that frustrated her. She loved learning about his life in England.

She loved listening to him.

She wanted to know more about the man behind the glib charm. But as she stared at him, wishing he’d talk more about himself, his eyes grew guarded, as though he’d drawn a curtain between himself and her. He did this only when he began asking that one question.

He rubbed his hand over his jaw, over the faint beginnings of his late-day stubble there. “But you are such a serious-minded woman.”

“Am I?” She bristled at the statement that seemed like an accusation.

“You’re very intelligent. More than that, you are shrewd.”

She moved away from him and pulled the edges of her pelisse together.

“What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“The way you said that, as though it is a crime to be intelligent and shrewd about business matters.” She drew her brows together sharply. “You are beginning to sound like my late husband. He never approved of my helping his father manage the business.”

“So, you’ve told me. Your father-in-law approved of you very much from what you’ve told me.”

“Yes, he valued me in that way. Yes, he confided in me about business matters. He trusted me. He loved me as a daughter, and I loved him as the father I never knew. You already know this. Why pester me about it like this?”

He twisted his mouth as though he’d just sucked on a persimmon.

She saw his chest move with his deep inhalation and then exhalation. “Why pester me like this, Evan?”

“I just don’t understand. If you loved that family and that business so much, why would you leave it?”

“Now wait, you’re putting words into my mouth. I didn’t love the entire family the way I loved my father-in-law. He had my loyalty, not necessarily the family.”

“But if you wanted an adventure and fun, as you say, why not select a lover from among your fellow Boston merchants?”

Unable to comprehend the sudden change in him, she scoffed and turned away.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

She blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, forcing the emotional weakness down.

“Listen to yourself,” she said, struggling to compose herself.

Then, a surge of ire made her whirl to face him.

“You sound almost angry. Are you angry that I came to England? Do you wish that I had a lover back in Boston? Perhaps I should leave today and book a passage back to America as soon as possible.”

He winced. Did he turn a shade paler? “No!”

His exclamation bore such emotion that she startled. But what emotion was it? His eyes blazed. Was that anger?

He came closer to her. “I am sorry, love. I just want to know about your past. I want to know what motivates you.” He placed an arm over her shoulder lightly, tentatively.

“You are the strongest-minded woman I’ve ever known.

It is different. It is very exciting to me.

But I admit that I don’t always understand you. ”

She felt herself softening toward him, despite herself. She didn’t want to be at odds with him. Their time together was limited. Yes, he acted strangely at times, but it wasn’t as though she would have to live with those aspects of him permanently. She wasn’t here to snare a husband.

She was here to enjoy herself.