Page 139 of Rogue of My Heart

She reached into the trunk, her hand hovering just above the contents. “It appears to be clothing, but there is something else here, too.” She pointed at the far inside edge. “It looks like metal, silver maybe.”

“Perhaps it is chain mail.”

“These could be Lady Isabel and Sir Ariston’s garments.” Her eyes sparkled as she feathered her fingers over the red cloth inside. “This is amazing.”

“It belongs to you now.” His heart swelled at having been the one to give her such an incredible gift.

She beamed at him before wrapping her arms around him. “I shall treasure it always.”

He couldn’t help from trailing his hand along her back, relishing the feel of her while fighting the urge to capture her lips. “I will speak with your father about having the trunk moved to your residence.”

She pulled back. “No. I wish for it to remain here. This is where it belongs, at least for now.” She turned to the trunk. “It has been here for hundreds of years. It seems wrong to move it.”

“Then it shall stay and you can visit it any time you wish. I will see the trunk moved to the second floor entrance hall, and there it will remain.”

“Thank you.” She lifted the deep red fabric, using only her index finger. “I fear it will crumble into dust if I attempt to handle it overmuch.” She nibbled at her lip. “Let us leave it for now.”

When she met his gaze, he surveyed her face. A lump formed in his throat. “Why have you been avoiding me? You say you are not afraid of anything, but your actions betray you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “My actions? What of yours? Did you not steal a kiss from me? Are you not the same man who told me I should be afraid of you when we first met?” She stood and placed her hands on her hips.

“As I recall, you kissed me back. Ardently.” He stepped closer until his chest pressed against her soft breasts. To her credit, she did not run. He smiled. “I am quite certain you enjoyed being kissed. Both times.”

A blush tinted her cheeks and her eyes darkened. “Are you mad?” she asked, averting her gaze.

He gently palmed her cheek, bringing her gaze back to his. “The way I make you feel frightens you. You think by avoiding me, you can make whatever is between us disappear.”

“There is noth--”

“Do not insult yourself by denying what lies between us. I see the truth in your eyes, feel it in your touch. You think of me often, long to feel my lips on yours again.”

“You are completely out of bounds. Do not presume to know my thoughts. I’d rather kiss a pig than you.” She turned her back to him but made no move to leave.

“Let us test your theory, shall we?” He spun her back to him and brought his lips down on hers—hard, demanding.

For a moment, she stood stock-still. His stomach rolled. Had she meant what she’d said? Did she feel nothing when they were together? Devil take it, he was a fool. He relented, taking his lips from hers, but then her arms came around him and she tilted her head, giving him better access to the sweetness of her mouth.

He deepened the kiss, pulling her tight against him. His body heated, every nerve tingled, every fiber of his being cried out for her. He broke from her lips, trailing kisses across her cheek, down her neck, across her collarbone.

A soft moan trembled from her as she clung to him. He worked his way across the swell of her breasts, and she arched against him. His hands roamed her curves, finding pleasure in each new discovery. She was so responsive to his touch, he almost lost control. With great reluctance, he pulled away from her before his need became too great.

He rested his forehead against hers and shuddered out a breath. “Would you still prefer a pig?”

She opened her eyes, heavy with desire, and looked up at him. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. “No…that was...”

He smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “Only the beginning of what we could share.”

He wanted all of her, but not like this. Not in a storage room in the heat of their battle. She deserved better. He pulled back, his gaze holding hers. “May I call on you tomorrow?”

She ran her tongue across her kiss-swollen lips. Her eyes lowered and her chest rose on a shaky breath. He could see the battle waging within her. Which would win out? Her desire or her fear.

Rebecca met his gaze and nodded.

Eight

Rebecca paced across the parlor. What had she been thinking, agreeing to let Camden call on her? Desire had clouded her judgement. There could be nothing between them. She’d not allow herself to wind up like Daphne, a young widow with a baby living off the charity of her in-laws.

Tears clouded her eyes, and she brushed them away. Her heart ached for Daphne and her nephew as much as it broke for herself and what could have been between her and Camden. She sniffled, then resumed pacing.