Page 10 of Just About a Rake (Ladies Who Dare #5)

L eonora blinked at the sight of the man standing before her. Normally, she would smile whenever she saw him. Today, she couldn’t find the motivation. Also, the sight him in her drawing room... utterly disturbing!

And a touch thrilling.

It had been three days since she’d left her house. Three days since she attended any event. And five days since she’d last sunk beneath the river in the arms of this man. She hadn’t set out to avoid him or any of the balls and musicales she’d been invited to, it was just that Harriet’s talk of worthiness had bound her to her room in reflection.

Something Leonora had never done before.

She’d been reflecting on her position, on worthiness, and it was a topic not for the faint-hearted, since no matter how she looked at it, worthiness was something she came up short on every single time she considered it.

Harriet advised that she find a man worthy of her, but her friend didn’t understand Leonora’s position. If anyone should be weighed against that word— bastard —it should be her. Her friend might accept her if the truth became known. But would anyone else?

The truth... if she was right about her birth, she was a by-blow.

I, Leonora Heart, am a by-blow. There she’d admitted it.

She’d never done so before, even in her own mind. After she’d gained the knowledge as a child, she’d been careful not to allow that word into her head even as she’d decided that since it was the case, she would enjoy all the moments she could.

Well, it had a name now.

By-blow.

A word meaning the very opposite of worthiness.

She stared at the man before her, impeccably attired in the latest fashion. He’d chosen the color blue for his waistcoat this time, the same color as his eyes, and when he turned to meet her gaze, the smile that stretched his lips took her breath away.

Worthiness . . .

Even a rake, she couldn’t match on that score. Rake, libertine, wastrel—they were just monikers assigned to the man based on his infamous reputation. At his core, he was still Rake Sloane, the Earl of Dare, born within the scope of worthiness along with wealth and privilege. No man or woman or king or queen could dispute this. The only way this man could ever become unworthy was if he did some dastardly deed and never atoned for his sins.

Unlike her.

Yes, Leonora was born into wealth and privilege as well. The only thing that really separated them was the circumstance of their births.

Such a small thing.

Such a big thing.

She glanced around the room. Was this a mistake? Had he accidentally wandered into her home? Ridiculous, Leonora! She could do nothing but ask, “What are you doing here, Dare?”

“Am I not allowed to call on you?”

“I... no...” She gave him a helpless look. “But you’ve never called on me before.”

“I never missed your face before.”

“Well, at least you are honest.” She sank into the chair. “Is that the only reason, though? I suspect not many ladies enjoy the honor of being called upon by the infamous Lord Dare.”

His brows gathered into a storm. “What’s wrong?”

Could he tell? “Nothing.”

He simply regarded her. “Then why the glum face?”

“Well, have you seen the papers?” There was no way she could have a conversation about worthiness with this man. It would reveal far too much. And she wouldn’t need to when she had such an easy excuse for low spirits at hand.

“That is what your absence is about? Where is the woman who boldly attended a picnic after the avian debacle?”

“She was caught in an alligator scuffle.”

He snorted. “Nonsense.”

“Well, I’m feeling quite fragile at the moment.”

He sent his hallmark brow lift. “Oh, come now, don’t look so sad.”

She averted her gaze with a small—very small—tilt of her lips. “You should stay away from me, Dare.”

“Because of some headlines?”

“Because I shall reduce your infamous reputation to that of a spectacle. Every eye in London will be trained on us after this.”

He took a seat next to her. “It seems a bit more than that is behind your absence. I know I might not look it, but I have been known to have an excellent ear. You can tell me anything. I’m also good at keeping secrets.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

That ever-present smile of his broadened, drawing another beat of her heart into disarray, and lifted the corners of her own lips just a bit. What was it about Dare that made Leonora want to prod and tease? Want to throw caution to the southwest wind?

“I have something that might make you feel better.”

“Oh?” How intriguing.

He leaned closer, so close that Leonora was afraid that he might hear the skip of her heartbeat. “It’s not something I can tell you.”

“Then what?” Leonora didn’t have to ask, but the question left her lips anyway.

“I shall have to show you.”

“Well, are you going to keep me in suspense? If it’s something you have to ask permission for—” His lips cut her off mid-sentence.

Leonora froze as his mouth brushed over hers provocatively. She stared at him, blinking when his eyes opened to stare back.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured against her.

“Should I?” Oh, Lord, her heart.

“That’s how you kiss. With eyes closed.”

Her lashes fluttered. “But then I can’t see you.”

“Do you want to see me or do you want to feel me?”

Feel. “See.” Both.

His lips stretched into a grin, and Leonora’s mouth followed as if feeling him smiling against her lips was the most contagious thing in the world.

“Fine, I’ll close my eyes.”

“And open your mouth.”

She laughed, but complied, since a kiss with Dare... she hadn’t realized how much she wanted it before this very moment.

When the kiss came, it wasn’t anything that Leonora had ever expected. She felt every brush, every stroke of his tongue. She didn’t know how to kiss a man back—she’d never been kissed. But Dare had been right about closing her eyes. And about opening her mouth. But if Dare was a good instructor, he was an even better kisser.

He effortlessly guided her into a foreign dance.

And she felt everything.

Not just the kiss, but every little hair that rose across her skin as well as the shiver that skittered down her spine and raced straight to the tips of her fingers and down to her toes.

There was nothing she could do but feel.

One arm snaked around her and brought her up close to his chest. This wasn’t the first time she’d been this close to him. But it was the first time she felt close to him. The man’s presence, usually calm and flirtatious, turned to an air of subtle command and enveloped her with a confidence many men seemed to lack.

So this was the true power of Dare’s charm. Unleashed, it was quite terrifying.

His tongue retreated to trace the seam of her lower lip before he nipped it with his teeth.

He’d been right. Her mood had turned for the better. Well, perhaps hotter. Her whole body seemed flushed with heat.

“You can open your eyes now.”

“Why?” she breathed. “Is it over?”

“It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be, but we are still in your drawing room.”

She raised her eyes to meet the hawkish gaze focused solely on her. The powerful, commanding presence had vanished again, and his place the flirtatious rake reigned supreme once more.

“Do you feel better?” he asked hoarsely.

“I cannot say.” She aimed to tease, since any other answer might come out wholly inappropriate. Like kiss me again . A rake kissed a lady. This was certainly one of her top moments.

“But you’re not sad anymore.”

“I was never sad,” Leonora murmured. “Just caught up in my own thoughts for a while.”

“Moody, then.”

“Call it what you will, I certainly don’t feel the same as I did when I walked in on you standing all roguish in my drawing room.” She eyed him askance. “Speaking of which, aren’t you afraid Heart will have a fit of rage when he sees you?”

“He is at the House of Lords.”

“Shouldn’t you be as well?”

“Are you chasing me away?”

“Never.” Merely still wondering what on earth had just happened and how she would ever recover from that kiss. And whether she even wanted to recover...

She wiggled her toes and pumped her fingers. She wanted to experience that feeling again. Because she’d felt more than just the kiss and her body’s reaction to the man. She’d felt precious .

Worthy.

But that wasn’t entirely the truth, was it? She enjoyed Dare because he was confident in who he was as a man. He didn’t shy away from the truth of his reputation. Dare was a rake. He had built an infamous reputation on his charm.

She fell back onto the sofa.

And Leonora knew better than to fall for the charms of a rake.

*

Dare rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Let’s go.” He couldn’t stay here any longer or he might kiss her again. And he really wanted to kiss her again. The curve of those soft lips—

“Let’s go where?”

He forced his mind out of his trousers. “Anywhere other than this dreary drawing room.”

“You don’t like my drawing room?” She accepted his hand and rose.

“I don’t care for drawing rooms in general.” He also didn’t kiss innocent ladies in said drawing rooms in general, which was probably why he felt so restless all of a sudden. He needed to move, but he also wanted to stay with Leonora a bit more. Which meant they needed to move together. “You know, you’re the first woman I’ve ever called upon.”

“I feel flattered.”

“You should.” He clasped his fingers with hers. “Are you in the mood for a bit of adventure?”

She grinned at him. “That depends on where we are going. If it’s to a ball with a parrot or a lake with an oversized reptile, I shall pass.”

“How about a boxing match?”

Her eyes widened, and she took an eager step forward. “Let’s go.”

Dare laughed “So enthusiastic.” This was what he had missed the past three days. Missed it so much it had felt as though the sun had set on his daily life.

“I’ve never been to a boxing match before, so who am I to deny myself the opportunity when the moment presents itself?”

Dare nodded. “Then let’s go.”

He didn’t think much as he led Leonora to his carriage and set out to Drake’s fight. She’d whispered a few words to the butler, and they had set off. He hadn’t intended to go but then decided for it. It was the only place he could think of to take her since she never wanted to do things ordinary ladies wanted to do. Perhaps this was what they both required.

The kiss . . .

That had been a mistake.

He’d known it the moment his lips brushed against hers. But Dare wasn’t a gentleman. He could admit he’d made a mistake, but he wouldn’t regret it. Regret held no place in his life. Regret ruined. Regret killed. And he might just die from all the fire such a tiny kiss had provoked, but he wouldn’t regret it.

So long as it didn’t happen again, and again, and again. He should be fine.

“Do you like boxing?” Leonora asked as she settled in the carriage across from him, immediately pulling pins from her hair.

His gaze spun to hers, brows gathering. “What are you doing?”

She looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“With your hair?” She was going to send his thoughts straight back to his trousers.

“Oh, well, I can’t very well look like a lady attending a boxing match, can I?”

“I don’t think it’s something you can not look like, Lady Leonora,” Dare said slowly, watching as she removed each pin until all her tendrils of hair cascaded down her shoulders and back.

He adjusted his cravat. Bloody hell.

Dare loved hair.

He loved long hair.

She pointed at his jacket, and he glanced down at the black he wore today, a question quirking his brow.

“Hand me your jacket.”

His head reeled back. “What? You want this?” He tugged on it for good measure.

She wriggled a finger. “Yes. Your jacket. Hand it over.”

Dare sighed, but didn’t argue. He shrugged out of his jacket with a mutter, and it was snatched from his fingers before he could hand it over. “Are you planning to wear it or do something else with it?”

Her answer was to put her arms through the sleeves. “What?” She smiled. “You still have your shirt and waistcoat.”

“Do you believe that will make you look less like a lady? And this is the second jacket of mine in your possession.” Another out-of-character thing for him. He preferred his clothes to be attached to him when he left a woman.

“I believe dressing even the slightest bit down is better than arriving dressed as I was, yes. And I shall be sure to return both jackets.”

He ignored the last. He quite liked the idea of his clothing being in her possession. “Shall you slouch as you walk as well?”

She rolled her eyes, a gesture that would normally have annoyed him had it been any other woman. However, she made it look rather endearing. Rather adorable.

Ah, confound it. There was something very wrong with him.

And no, it hadn’t started with the kiss. That much ought to be noted—as well as this burning pulse in his chest. To begin with, it wasn’t something that started . It was something that had developed with time. With every shared smile, every inappropriate flirtatious comment, every dance with stolen touches.

It should have surprised the hell out of him that she hadn’t run for the hills, but this, this was his little bold temptress. Then again, it was also a wonder he hadn’t succumbed to kissing her sooner. Only in as much that kissing was a line neither of them had ever crossed until today.

And Dare knew all about crossing the lines.

The first time was the most thrilling. Sometimes the hardest. Sometimes the most anxious. But once crossed, every single time after that it became a little easier and a little easier. Until there were no more lines to cross, and black and white blurred into shades of gray.

“What’s with that look?” she suddenly asked. “Is it your turn to feel sour? It’s just a jacket.” She smoothed her hands over the black material. “It’s pretty and feels nice.” So long as she liked it. “I already feel tons better.”

He smiled at that. “Well then, whenever you feel moody or sad, whichever, you can just think about my kiss.”

“Are you saying I should think about you forever? Why Dare, what a scoundrel you are.”

Forever? Wouldn’t that feel pretty and nice? “Did I not do you a service today by cheering you up?”

“Then I should thank you for this service?”

No. “How about doing me a service? Something I can draw from whenever I feel restless. Then I shall forever think about you, too.”

Intrigue lit her gaze. “And what would this service entail? Shall it be a kiss, too? One of a different kind, perhaps? Or shall a compliment do?”

A kiss of a different kind. Little Dare twitched. “Please don’t compliment me.” She arched a brow. What could he say? “I’ve heard them all before.”

“Is that the arrogance or confidence of a rake?”

“A mere observation.”

A light snort. “Red and blue feathers suit you.”

Dare cocked his head. “Thank... you?” Wait a minute... “A bird joke? Truly? Is that even a compliment?” His eyes narrowed. “It sounds more like you’re calling me a peacock.”

“Peacocks don’t have red feathers.” She lowered her head until her nose touched his jacket and inhaled deeply. “You smell nice.”

Lord, what was that ? Had his jaded heart just stuttered?

He cleared his throat. “What else?”

“You want more?” She laughed and traced a finger over his jacket. Saucy temptress. “Your chest feels hard and nice.”

Other parts of his body were becoming hard. Dare swallowed. How could such a simple compliment cause such a big reaction? If he weren’t careful, he’d want to hunt down these compliments from her every day.

“Another.”

She smiled, and that finger that was tracing his jacket lifted to trail over her lower lip. “Your kisses are nice, too.”

Christ Almighty. “More.”

She lifted her chin. “No.”

Dare blinked, his whole body flaring in denial. “No?”

“Your turn. Compliment me.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Your compliments are dangerous.”

“That’s your compliment?” She stared at him, then laughed. “Yours are the worst.” She suddenly lifted herself slightly and leaned close, bringing her face up to his.

Dare froze. In anticipation. In terror. In both.

“I shall give you one more.” And then her soft lips collided with his cheek in a small peck. “Smooth.”

Dare was dead.

Dead.

Dead and gone.

Any moment now he would slump on the seat and never wake up again. Would anyone be able to revive him after this?

No.

If anyone could, it would be her.

And only her.

God, I’m in trouble.