Page 7 of The Rogue’s Runaway Bride (Rogue of Her Own #3)
Her softly spoken words unleashed a fresh current of awareness through his body.
She’d certainly spoken the truth. In those days—and nights—in America, he would have entirely forgone sleep if it had meant another hour to drink in the smile in her eyes and the peal of her easy laugh.
But that was then. It all seemed another lifetime ago.
He brushed the curtain back and peered into the gaslit street. “Allow me to put your mind at ease,” he said, keeping his tone deliberately bland. “These days, I consider a peaceful night to be a luxury to be savored.”
“Well, that is a relief.” Folding her hands in her lap, she sat up a bit straighter. “And there I was so very worried about being ravished.”
“Sadly, I doubt I could summon the energy,” he said, countering her prim yet teasing tone.
“Understandable,” she said coolly. “The duties of a tycoon must be quite exhausting.”
“Indeed.” Though not nearly so exhausting as what lies behind the doors of my home.
“Still set on conquering the world, one customer at a time?”
“Is there any other way?” he replied. “In any case, there’s little reason to be concerned with scandal. You will not be the only female residing in my home.”
Bloody hell . If that wasn’t an understatement, he didn’t know what one was.
“Such concern over my good name .” Belle sighed. “It’s a lost cause, you know. If anyone spotted me dashing about town tonight, they’d suppose I’d gone mad. That’s worse than a mere scandal, now isn’t it?”
“You did what you had to do.” He wanted to reach for her hand, to comfort her, but he stopped himself. “You’ll be safe in my residence. And my housekeeper will be present at all times. She’s quite vigilant in the pursuit of her duties.”
And an utter busybody who won’t miss a bloody thing.
“But what will she think when you return home with a woman—garbed in your overcoat, no less?”
“I’d assume Mrs. Gilroy will find it rather in keeping with recent events.”
Her brows quirked, then relaxed as a little sigh escaped her. “I do realize how very unexpected this is.”
Unexpected? He pondered the word. Given the events of the past weeks, the word had come to define his life. “I won’t argue that.” Jon allowed his gaze to sweep over her. “I’d imagine Mrs. Gilroy will be more surprised by the wedding dress than my overcoat.”
“Yes, I imagine you’ve sacrificed your coat to keep some desperate woman or other warm on more than one occasion.” She looked as if she fought against a smile. “After all, you are known for your chivalry.”
“Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”
“Perhaps.” Her lips curved, the slightest semblance of a grin.
“Ah, you wound me.” He relaxed against the seat, feeling some of the tension ease from his bones. “Admittedly, you are the first woman in a mud-dappled bridal gown I’ve ever encountered.”
“And perhaps more to the point, the first woman you’ve thought to cover up rather than attempted to inspire her to shed garments.”
He cocked a brow. “Might that approach have worked?”
“Not a chance,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “Though truth be told, I am looking forward to my first opportunity to be rid of this gown. Provided, of course, there is another dress to take its place.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Gilroy will find something that will work, at least for the night.”
“I would be ever so grateful for her assistance.” Belle glanced down at a bit of tattered lace near her wrist. Jon’s attention was drawn to the slight bit of fluff which dangled precariously, evidently held in place by only a few stitches.
“What happened there? How was the lace torn?”
Her brows knit together, and she nibbled her lower lip.
“Honestly, I’m not quite sure. Suffice it to say, it has been a difficult night.
I’d thought this gown quite lovely,” she said, sounding a bit wistful.
“But after tonight, I plan to never look upon it again.” She turned to the carriage window, peeping out behind the curtain.
“Might we discuss this in the morning? I feel an awful megrim brewing.”
“Of course,” he agreed. Her tone was weary. Sad. And perhaps, a bit angry.
She leaned her head back against the bench and closed her eyes. “All I want to do tonight is rest in a quiet room in a warm house.”
Jon smiled to himself. “I must warn you—there is a possibility you may be disappointed.”
“I find that highly unlikely,” she said without opening her eyes.
“Do you, now?” He chuckled beneath his breath. “Would you care to describe your vision of my residence?”
“It’s not much of a challenge, is it? I’d imagine your housekeeper is top-notch, tidy as they come.
She undoubtedly keeps the furniture polished, the silver gleaming, and the floors without so much as a speck of debris.
The only sounds one might hear are the swishes of a clock’s pendulum and perhaps, the crackle of a warm fire in the hearth. ”
“And not a thing out of place,” Jon added, completing the pleasant image.
“I’d think so,” she went on. “Quiet. Orderly. A haven for a man who thinks, dreams, and lives for his enterprises.”
He cocked a brow. “Is that so?”
“Of course,” she said, sounding as if she’d bitten back a laugh of her own. “I cannot imagine there would be any hint of chaos. Unless your sister will be there, engaging in some shenanigan or other.”
No, that chapter has closed. “Macie and her husband are gallivanting about Europe with that camera of hers. She is enjoying wedded bliss and driving Finn to distraction.”
Belle’s mouth dipped at the corners, not quite a frown. “I must say I’m disappointed. I would’ve liked to have made her acquaintance.”
“You may just have your chance. She’s expected to return within days.”
“Very good,” she said. “As for tonight, I’ve no doubt I shall soon enjoy a peaceful respite from this thoroughly blighted day.”
“Or so one can hope.”
Blasted shame he did not share her confidence.