Page 87 of Rogue of My Heart

“Oh, I see.” His smile widened. “How interesting for a woman to name a bicycle after a fallen angel.”

“It takes one to know one,” Marie said, unable to tear her eyes away from him.

He laughed. The sound was luxurious and exciting. It did things to her insides. Things that were exacerbated by the way the waves washed in and out around the man’s waist, giving her hints of far more than she should be looking at now and then. The bounder wasn’t wearing drawers.

“And you’re certain you’re not injured in any way?” he asked, continuing to tease her with his eyes.

“Perfectly uninjured in every way,” she told him. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m grand,” he said, inching forward a bit and looking as though he might stand. “I was worried that you might have hit your head, you see.”

“My head?” Marie blinked, lowering her arms.

“Seeing as you seem unable to gather your wits about you or look away, like a well-bred young lady should.”

There was something tantalizing and challenging about his comment. Whether he was genuinely hinting for her to give him a moment of modesty so he could wade out of the water to fetch his clothes—which she now saw sitting in a pile farther down the beach—or daring her to keep looking, she couldn’t quite tell. So she chose to keep looking.

“My head is right as rain,” she said, then nodded to the parts of him below the water. “Is yours?” She said a quick prayer of thanks for all the rough language she’d learned through selling their beer to the local pubs.

“Perhaps you should judge for yourself,” he said.

And then he did the wildest and most shocking thing Marie had ever witnessed in her life. He stood up.

Water cascaded down his perfect form, sluicing over fine, strong hips and thighs, highlighting his narrow waist, and making him glisten like a mythical creature. But that was nothing to the sight of the dark hair around his groin and the bold, masculine shape of his balls and penis. The water must have been cold enough that he wasn’t in any sort of an aroused state, but Marie hardly cared. There it was, bold as you please, kissed by sunlight, an impressive cock. The man had the audacity to rest his hands on his hips and grin like a fool as she drank in the sight of him, either not caring that he was on full display for her or reveling in it. Indeed, when she finally managed to get her eyes to snap up to meet his face, the man looked downright proud of himself for standing there as God made him. And God had made him well.

“It would appear that we have a bit of a dilemma on our hands,” he said, his voice lowering to a sultry timbre.

Marie almost didn’t hear him. She was too busy staring. Her day had just turned far more interesting than she’d bargained for. “What dilemma is that?” she asked, pretending nothing was amiss, even though she could feel her face heating.

“We haven’t been properly introduced,” the man said, obviously well-mannered and polite. Except for the whole shameless nudity thing.

He started toward the beach, veering off as though he intended to fetch his clothes. Marie wasn’t having any of that, though. She abandoned Lucifer in an instant and darted across the sand, intent on reaching his clothing before he did.

Two

Christian’s heart shot to his throat—or perhaps an organ slightly lower—as Lady Marie O’Shea dashed toward his clothes on the shore. He knew who she was, of course. By sight and by reputation. He wasn’t certain whether she recognized him. He’d been away at university and then on a tour of the continent, after all, and had only just returned home a few months earlier. And besides, a lady like Marie O’Shea would have no reason to know who the younger son of an earl of middling importance was.

She was after his clothes. That was all that mattered. He picked up his pace, splashing through the shallows toward the beach, cock swinging freely, trying to decide whether he hoped he reached his clothes before her or not. He wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, and frankly, he appreciated the look of bold interest that Lady Marie had given him. Appreciated it and more. If not for the cold water, he might have given her more to look at. There was still a danger of embarrassment on that front, but Christian didn’t care. He was who he was, and he loved that about himself.

“Ha!” Marie shouted as she pounced on his clothes. She gathered them into her arms, then wheeled back as if she would hold them hostage indefinitely. “Now you’re in a pinch.”

Christian splashed his way out of the water and across the beach to stand several yards in front of her, hands on his hips, cock hanging. He paused to catch his breath and grinned at her, then shook his head. “And what sort of a pinch is that?” he asked.

She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was staring at him, so he didn’t hide how much he liked it. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d engaged in conversation while swinging free. Although there was generally a great deal more alcohol involved, and he hadn’t been in that position since Italy.

Marie swallowed hard, then snapped her eyes up to meet his again as she hugged his clothes. For a moment, she wore a startled look. Then she burst into a sheepish laugh. “Do you know, I forgot completely what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I have that effect on people,” he said with a wink.

“Do you, now?” she asked, arching one eyebrow.

“I think it’s because of my blistering wit and magnificent intelligence.” He shifted his weight slightly, standing as though they were meeting in a ballroom and he was fully clothed.

Her lips twitched and her eyes danced with humor. “I suppose you’re exactly the sort of lad people like to invite to their parties, then?”

“That goes without saying.” Christian shrugged. Her gaze dropped to his groin again. He knew full well she was a lady, but that didn’t cool his urge to handle himself to see how she reacted. He refrained, of course. He might not have been anyone destined for greatness—his position in the family didn’t even warrant use of the prefix “Lord”—but his father was an earl. A little decorum with a member of his own class was necessary.

But not enough to make any sort of move to retrieve his clothes from her.