Page 91 of The Rogue’s Embrace

Cece bristled with energy, good and bad, inside and out. Standing on the dais, addressing a crowd of mostly men about an issue of such importance had been thrilling. The first few seconds had been terrifying, but after that, it felt as though her heart had latched onto what she believed and had spoken for her. She didn't know how she'd maintained a fa?ade of confidence, how she'd answered the men who heckled her, and how she'd delivered her argument without shattering into dust with nerves.

Those nerves got the better of her as soon as she was out of the limelight and back by Henrietta's side. That was when she began to tremble at the audacity of what she'd done. So much so that she wondered if the thrill she'd experienced as the center of attention and the crash that followed was what opium-eaters experienced in the throes of their addiction.

That was the moment when Rupert rushed up to her, flushed with a sort of excitement that left her trembling for other reasons entirely. He'd never looked at her with that particular kind of admiration before. It was a hidden blessing that the odious Lady Claudia barged into their group, commandeering the conversation before Cece was called on to speak rationally. It gave her time to settle herself.

She still hadn't recovered fully by the time Lady Claudia marched off, which was why it had been absolutely necessary for her to remove herself from the situation. But as she reached the edge of Pall Mall and began striding in the general direction of Mayfair, her hand pressed to her stomach in an attempt to diffuse the butterflies, guilt assailed her. She shouldn't have run off on Henrietta the way she had. It was rude to abandon the rally before it was finished. She had never been so inconsiderate before. What on earth had changed her?

Her answer came in the form of Rupert chasing after her, calling, "Hold up. You shouldn't walk all that way alone. I'll escort you."

Instantly, Cece stopped and turned to Rupert with pursed lips and a stern frown. Her expression was a mask to her true, much more tumultuous feelings, though. A dozen emotions hit her at once at the sight of Rupert jogging to catch up with her—indignation that he was ordering her around once again, relief that she wouldn't have to walk the whole way to Mayfair by herself, and a far more tempting emotion that heated her blood and made her heart race, but that she didn't want to name.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking home alone,"

she told him, fighting to maintain her newfound dignity in the face of years-old desires.

"I suspect you're capable of doing a great many things that I have never dreamed of,"

Rupert said, out of breath, as he reached her side.

They continued along in silence, passing several prominent houses and clubs before cutting across Green Park. The longer they walked, the stronger the butterflies in her stomach grew.

At last, she stopped, turned to Rupert, and demanded, "Why are you staring at me without making conversation?"

Rupert blinked in surprise, an entirely too fetching grin lighting his expression. "My apologies,"

he said. "I was lost in my own thoughts, transported by the wonders I have seen this morning."

"What wonders?"

she asked, eyeing him suspiciously and walking on at a slower pace. She told herself the decrease in speed was to preserve her energy, but a mischievous part of her wanted to extend the walk home as long as possible. It was the first time she and Rupert had had any extensive length of time alone together since his return.

"The wonder of seeing something I have never seen before,"

he said with a casual shrug.

She sent him a sharp, sideways look, as if warning him not to toy with her.

He caught her look and his cheeks reddened. "I didn't know you were such a capable public speaker," he said.

"My speech at the ball welcoming the soldiers home the other night didn't alert you to my skill?"

she said with wry teasing, though inwardly her gut twisted with embarrassment.

Rupert laughed. "Let's just say I was too astounded by the content of your speech the other night to appreciate the skill with which it was delivered."

The heat of embarrassment permeated every part of Cece. At least, she thought it was embarrassment. It was the kind of heat that tickled and pulsed, and it seemed to grow hotter with every sidelong look at Rupert she stole.

"You've changed quite a bit in my absence,"

Rupert said after another uncomfortable silence.

"As I have been telling you for days,"

Cece said in a flat voice.

"No, but you have,"

Rupert went on as though she'd denied it. He studied her for a few more seconds as they crossed out of Green Park and into to the lattice of streets lined with the townhomes of England's highest and brightest. "I think I like these changes."

Cece blew out an impatient breath as they paused at an intersection to let a carriage pass. "Whatever changes you may see, I can assure you, they weren't undertaken for your enjoyment."

"No, of course not,"

he said, then continued to study her as though she were a dazzling curiosity imported from foreign shores.

"If I have changed at all, it is to suit myself,"

she said, unable to stand the renewed silence. It had never been so difficult to carry on a conversation with Rupert before he entered the army. But then, if she were honest with herself, they had never really had anything serious to talk about all those years ago.

"I should count myself lucky, then,"

Rupert said as they walked on. "The changes you've made for yourself show great promise of benefitting me as well."

"It was unintentional, I can assure you."

Speaking to him in such a high-handed, stilted way was beginning to make her heart hurt, so she looked for a way to shift the conversation. "You abandoned your friend, Lord O'Shea, in St. James's Park, you know."

"Fergus won't mind,"

Rupert said with a casual laugh. "Not when he has someone as delightful as Lady Tavistock to entertain him."

A jolt of jealousy nearly stopped Cece in her tracks. Did Rupert find Henrietta to be delightful? She forced herself to dismiss the notion.

"Besides,"

Rupert went on, helping her efforts. "You are far more important to me than Fergus."

They reached another intersection where they had to wait for a passing carriage. She arched one eyebrow at him. "That is a far different tune than you were singing the other day,"

she said, a little sharper than she intended to. The goal was to not give in to jealousy, after all.

Rupert smiled at her, swaying close enough to brush the back of his fingers along her forearm in a wickedly flirtatious gesture. "I have been made to see the error of my ways."

Cece's heart thumped hard against her chest as the carriage passed and they crossed the street.

Marlowe House was half a block ahead, and they couldn't reach it soon enough.

In all the time she had known him, Rupert had always been kind to her.

He'd been sweet and attentive before he left, and emotional in the letters he'd written from South Africa.

But he had always maintained a respectful air.

Now, however, he stood a little closer than was appropriate, smiled with a little too much fondness, and gazed at her with a look that hinted he was interested in far more than the mildness of her temperament or her goodness.

She wasn't the only one who had changed in the past four years.

As prim and proper as a major part of her was, a new, pulsing part of her was tantalized by what felt like decidedly carnal interest on his part.

But, so help her, if that sort of interest had sprung up simply because she had boldly spoken her mind and without continued admiration for her more wholesome attributes, she would slap him straight back to Africa.

"I have friends now as well,"

she said as they neared home. "Whether you've seen the error of your ways or not, I know the value of maintaining relationships with others."

"You must school me in these matters then,"

he said as they climbed the steps of Marlowe House and pulled the bell chain.

Mr.

Stewart answered the door before Cece could come up with a suitably withering reply, before she was able to decide how she wanted to reply to such overt flirting.

She stepped into the house and removed her hat while her blood pumped wildly through her.

It could be an absolute treat to flirt in the most wicked way possible with Rupert.

She wasn't the same doe-eyed schoolgirl she'd been when she met him, after all.

Having Bianca as a friend had educated her in shocking ways.

On the other hand, she would be devastated if Rupert turned out to be as much of a cad and a rake as any bounder running around London looking for a good time.

Ironically, it was Bianca who saved her from having to decide what kind of woman she wanted to be around Rupert.

"Cece! Rupert! You're home."

She rushed down the hall before Cece had shrugged out of her coat—which Rupert smoothly helped her remove without being asked. "You'll never guess,"

she went on, her eyes as bright as a child with a new toy.

"We never will,"

Rupert told her in a teasing tone.

"Of course, you never would,"

she snapped back in true, younger sister style. She took a breath, assuming a more mature and commanding air. "Mama has decided to host a ball."

"Mama?"

Rupert gaped. "Hosting a ball?"

"Yes."

Bianca's shoulders dropped. "And why should that be such an unusual occurrence?"

"Mama hates hosting large events,"

Rupert said, removing his own coat and handing it to Mr. Stewart. "She's more of a private supper and musicale hostess."

Bianca snorted. "That only goes to show what you know. She's been entertaining like mad since marrying Lord Malcolm. I think she likes to remind people that she married her Prince Charming in the end. It's why she's hosting the ball at Campbell House."

Rupert frowned, which Cece found curious. At least until he said, "Campbell House is my residence right now. And Mama wants to host a ball there?"

"She's obviously up to something,"

Bianca said, gesturing for the two of them to follow her down the hall and into the library once their outerwear was taken care of. "And if you ask me, it has everything to do with getting the two of you well and truly engaged. But I plan to use the event for my own purposes, of course. I am Mama's daughter, after all."

They reached the library and she turned the corner, sending them a mischievous glance over her shoulder as she did.

Cece hesitated before entering the room, biting her lip. Bianca had brushed across the idea with lightning speed, but it was clear to her that Rupert had heard the important bit as well as she had. Lady Katya must be hosting the ball in an effort to push the two of them together.

"I dislike being pushed around,"

she told Rupert in a quiet voice.

"As do I,"

he grumbled in return, then marched ahead into the library.

It was a surprising moment of camaraderie that shifted Cece's internal balance yet again as they entered the library, the kind of moment that made her want to explore the vagaries of free love, like she'd proclaimed at the miserable ball. At the rate she was going, she probably would find herself formally engaged to Rupert by the end of the week.

"I didn't expect to see you back home so early,"

Cece's father said, rising from the sofa he'd been sharing with Lady Katya. He set the book he'd been reading aside and crossed to greet Cece with a kiss on her cheek. "I was under the impression political rallies lasted far longer than an hour and a half."

"Lady Tavistock asked me to speak,"

Cece said, sending her father a look that reflected the way she'd felt as Henrietta pushed her toward the dais.

Her father burst into a proud smile. "And how did it go?"

"Brilliantly,"

Rupert answered.

"Oh?"

Lady Katya put her book aside and rose as well. "You were well-received?"

"She was the highlight of the entire rally,"

Rupert said, smiling with as much pride as her father—something she found as unnerving as it was flattering.

"I was the first one to speak,"

she said, downplaying the intensity of the moment. "And I was so dizzy from being the center of attention by the time I stepped down that I had to excuse myself from the crowd."

"Understandable,"

Lady Katya said, walking up to Cece's father's side and slipping her arm around his waist. "I remember the first time I spoke at a political meeting. I was so exhilarated I couldn't sleep that night."

"That wasn't the only reason you couldn't sleep that night,"

Cece's father added in a purring voice.

Sharp embarrassment flared through Cece. She looked away, but that only turned her toward Rupert. Rupert was watching her with a scintillating smile that sent the same sort of restless energy through her that her father and Lady Katya's display had.

"What is this about a ball?"

she asked, her voice pitched far higher because of her discomfort.

Lady Katya broke away from her father as she said, "I've decided to host a ball next week at Campbell House."

"That's what I told her,"

Bianca said, sitting on the sofa beside Natalia, who was deeply absorbed in a book.

"Any special occasion?"

Cece asked.

Lady Katya smiled mysteriously, glancing from Cece to Rupert. "To celebrate Rupert's return, of course."

"You don't need to host an entire ball on my behalf, Mama,"

Rupert said.

Whether it was the nagging sensation that she was being manipulated or the restless energy that drew her toward Rupert in ways she wasn't sure she was ready for, Cece indulged her impulse to be contrary. "It sounds like the perfect occasion to deepen my ties with the May Flowers. You wouldn't mind if I invited them, would you?"

"Of course not,"

Lady Katya said with genuine enthusiasm. "I would never say no to turning an ordinary celebration into a political event."

"Looks like my apple hasn't fallen far from the tree,"

Cece's father said, moving to kiss her on the cheek once more. "I'll send word to Alex and Peter to get our gang together again."

"Basil and Elaine are going to be in town next week as well,"

Lady Katya said, following Cece's father out of the room. "I can't wait to see the looks on the faces of London's high and mighty when Elaine shows up to a ball in Grecian dress, as pregnant as she is."

"I should write up a list of my friends for Mama to invite as well,"

Bianca said, rising as quickly as she'd sat. She cleared her throat and kicked Natalia's ankle.

"Ow,"

Natalia protested, frowning up at her sister. "What was that for? I'm in the middle of the best part."

She held up her book.

"Perhaps you could read it somewhere else,"

Bianca suggested. "Or help me with my list."

"I'm quite content where I—ow!"

Bianca kicked Natalia's shin a second time, then cleared her throat and nodded toward Cece and Rupert. Only then did Natalia seem to understand.

She gasped and shot to her feet. "I should read this elsewhere,"

she said, then marched straight for the door.

Bianca followed, and, as had become her particular signature moment, just before turning the corner, she glanced over her shoulder and said, "Don't go getting into trouble while left alone."

She popped around the corner, leaving nothing but her mischievous laugh in her wake.

Cece sighed and shook her head. "Really,"

she said. "You would never know that Bianca is twenty-three now. She still acts like—oh!"

Before she could finish her sentence, Rupert swept her into his arms, closing her in the sort of intimate embrace she had dreamed of while he was away. He molded her body to his, exciting her from head to toe.

"I have been given to understand that Bianca will never truly grow up,"

he said in a rich, low voice.

Cece couldn't stop herself from resting her arms over his shoulders and reveling in the heat and firmness of his body. He'd become deliciously fit in his time as a soldier. It felt good, it felt right, and she wanted more.

"Your sister is a scandal waiting to happen,"

she said, surprised at how thin her voice sounded.

Rupert stared at her lips with a flash of undisguised desire in his eyes. "You really were magnificent up there this morning,"

he said, each breath bringing them closer together. "I'm ashamed that I didn't suspect you had it in you. I'm ashamed that I didn't suspect a great many things about you. I should have been paying closer attention."

"You should have,"

Cece agreed, intoxicated by the way he held her and the shocking lack of distance between their mouths.

"On my honor, I will pay much, much closer attention to you going forward,"

he said, then underscored his promise by slanting his mouth over hers.

The kiss shouldn't have come as such a surprise. She was in Rupert's arms, after all, and he was clearly in a state of arousal. Indeed, it wasn't the press of lips to lips that startled her. It was the way he savored her with frank appreciation. It was the way his tongue teased her into parting her lips for him and allowing him to plunder her. It was the fervor in the way he held her, their bodies fitting so perfectly together. It was no chaste kiss filled with noble promise, it was a declaration of wicked intent.

She sighed and threaded her fingers through his hair, captivated by the new territory they were exploring. Sensation rippled through her, bringing to life a spark that turned into a throb deep in her core. It didn't matter how frustrated she was with Rupert, she wanted more of what he was giving her. Even if it meant her ruin.

He seemed to hear her unspoken request and heeded it by brushing a hand up her side to cradle her breast. She gasped at the sensation, then shivered as his thumb rubbed across her swiftly-tightening nipple. Rupert never would have dared to touch her that way before. She couldn't make out whether that meant he thought more of her or less.

At last, he shifted as if he planned to deepen their kiss, but the bristles of his moustache prickled against her tender skin. It was exactly the sort of return to reality she needed. She jerked back, sucking in a breath, and glared at him.

"How dare you?"

she whispered, yanking free of his arms. "Do you think you can take such liberties with me in my own home?"

"It's our home,"

he said, cheeks pink, lips red, and eyes glazed with passion.

"Remember yourself, Rupert,"

she told him, adding, "And kindly dispose of that ridiculous moustache."

She pressed a hand to her beating heart. Her breasts continued to feel heavy and in dire need of being caressed. But to stay and indulge in those desires would have been a disaster.

She shook her head and marched past Rupert, then broke into a run when she reached the hall. She didn't stop until she reached her room and shut the door behind her. As she leaned heavily against it, breathing fast, she squeezed her eyes closed. The last thing she needed was for Rupert to have such a powerful, tempting weapon to use against her. She had only one hope of defense. She would have to learn to use the same seductive sensuality to her own advantage instead of being swallowed up in it.