More Than a Rogue Page 12

Slowly, he ran the pad of his thumb along the edge of her jaw while studying her response. Her lips parted slightly and a soft, almost inaudible sigh, escaped her. “Do you like how this feels?”

  She was silent a moment, so long he repeated the motion as a reminder.

  “Yes,” she whispered, just as honest as she had promised to be from the start.

  He moved in closer, not enough to touch her with his body, but enough for them both to feel the temperature rise in the air pressed between them. “And this?” he asked as he trailed his index finger down the side of her neck.

  A shiver stole through her, but she kept her eyes closed. “It tickles a little.”

  “In a good way, I hope.”

  Her breaths grew shallower as he trailed his finger across her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  He moved closer still, allowing his body to press against hers. “Showing you what you desire but are too afraid to face.” He allowed the words to blow over her skin. “You wanted to know what kissing is like because you are curious. And yet, you have run from every chance you’ve had since I kissed you to learn more.”

  “Because there can never be more. Not with you.”

  His hand stilled, right at the edge of her décolletage. The temptation to dip one finger inside and explore her more fully was almost too much to bear. “Why?” he asked her instead.

  Her breaths quickened and she suddenly drew away, opening her eyes and pinning him with accusation. “Because it would never work.”

  It wasn’t the response he’d expected, but it did make him laugh, not with pleasure but with astonishment. “You’re wrong about that, Miss Howard.” He would not pretend disinterest in her now. Nor would he act as though she did not affect him more than any other woman ever had. Not when he wanted her more with each passing second and certainly not when his ability to stir her baser desires had just been confirmed. “It would work splendidly.”

  “And then what? You would marry me? I would move to Vienna?” He opened his mouth to speak but she interjected. “You don’t want that and neither do I, come to think of it. So then where would that leave us? With an affair that would make future get-togethers unbearably awkward?”

  Griffin blinked. She didn’t want marriage.

  “You’re Caleb’s brother, after all, so avoiding each other indefinitely would be impossible,” she continued. “Which is why I refuse to become more involved with you, however difficult not doing so may be. But it isn’t fear that’s strengthening my restraint, it’s common sense and the keen awareness that I would likely regret a deeper attachment to you.”

  “Would this be the wrong time to remind you that you asked me to give you another demonstration in kissing?” He was grasping at straws now, desperate to stop the chance he had with her from slipping between his fingers.

  “Of course not, but that was before…” She caught herself on a gasp and took another step back, even further away from him.

  Griffin latched onto her unspoken words with every hope he’d ever had. “Before what?”

  She raised her chin, defiance now firmly in place. “It doesn’t matter.”

  And before he could tell her that he was quite certain it did, she reminded him that her mother was waiting and that he was still quite welcome to join them both for the picnic.

  “I would like that,” he said, both because he was hungry and felt a need for fresh air, but also because he wanted to keep on studying her. She’d held back something important, of that he was certain. Especially since she’d let slip that resisting him wasn’t easy. Which meant he was right. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Now all he had to do was convince her that she could have him forever and that he would make her happy.

  Sitting on the blanket beside her mother and pretending that Griffin’s presense was as unremarkable as it would have been if he’d been anyone else, was difficult. For three days Emily had managed to keep her distance from him. It had helped that he’d hidden himself away in the parlor, but at the same time, his frequent absenses had made her forget how gorgeous, charming, and thoroughly tempting he was.

  When she’d foolishly touched him in the parlor and then allowed him to touch her, sparks had erupted inside her, awakening every dream she’d ever had of being wanted, desired, loved.

  The last bit was what had slammed the door between them. It was what made her fearful of surrender. The knowledge that if he so much as kissed her again, it might break her heart.

  Her mother offered her a slice of apple, and Emily accepted, biting into the crisp tartness while a gust of wind raked the grass. Clearview stood in the background, the familiar façade a reminder of all the happiness she’d ever known. This was where she’d learned there was more to life than being a pawn, where she’d found the understanding and support her parents had failed to give her, where she’d discovered her purpose.

  “These are excellent,” Griffin said as he bit into his second scone. The clotted cream and jam he’d scooped onto one half of it dripped onto his fingers. “The best I’ve ever had.”

  Emily grinned. She’d never seen a man eat with such gusto or with such carefree abandon. It proved that he loved the treat she had made and that piece of knowledge did something funny to her stomach and to her heart.

  “Here’s a napkin,” she said, handing him a square of blue cotton.

  He accepted the offering with thanks and held it under the scone in order to catch the crumbs.

  A pair of swallows darted across the sky, beneath long, filmy clouds giving way to pale blue. The rustling of leaves drew Emily’s attention to a squirrel rummaging for food at the foot of an oak. Emily ate the rest of her apple and stood.

  “Stay,” she told Griffin when he made to rise as well. She needed distance from him, the chance to come to terms with the truth humming through her.

  Naive, inexperienced woman that she was, she hadn’t thought to protect her heart properly. And now it was too late to do so, because she was already falling hopelessly, madly, and irrevocably in love with him. How could she not when he’d proven how kind he was? When he chose to do for himself what his status and position demanded he have others do for him instead? When he encouraged her to be herself rather than the fabricated version Society asked for?

  Emily glanced over her shoulder at where he sat, now conversing amicably with her mother, a woman most unmarried gentlemen tried to avoid because of her boorish manner. But Griffin managed to calm her somehow. In his presence, Georgina was transformed into a less domineering and more understanding person. Which of course was yet another reason to love him.

  A smile tugged at her lips as she watched him laugh in response to something her mother said. Emily glanced away from them and gave her attention to the fields beyond the Clearview property where young, bright green wheat swayed happily to and fro. She could still feel his fingers against her skin, teasingly soft and inviting. There was no mistaking what he’d offered, his voice whispering over her skin as he’d stepped even closer, surrounding her with raw masculinity. It was more than a touch and more than a kiss. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of but was now too afraid to accept. He was giving her the chance of a lifetime, and she was now saying no.

  She shook her head. If only Cassandra and Mary were here for her to confide in. She desperately needed their guidance in this. But she wouldn’t see either for another week. Not until she arrived at Montvale. A letter from Cassandra informing her of this had arrived yesterday. In it her friend had explained that the children were having a marvelous time in London and that a detour to Clearview on their way to the house party made little sense.

  “Your mother suggested I check on you.”

  Startled by Griffin’s voice speaking next to her ear, Emily spun to face him. She had not heard him approach and was now momentarily dazed by how handsome he looked with the sun spilling over his hair. It highlighted deep golden strands that weren’t visible when he was indoors.

  Expelling her breath slowly, E
mily managed to slow the frantic heartbeats he’d caused by catching her off guard. “I’m sure she did,” she said, responding to his comment with an edge of dryness that couldn’t be helped. “Mama has nothing but matchmaking on her agenda.”

  “You cannot blame her for that. After all, I am a fine catch.”

  His comment, accompanied by waggling eyebrows and a wry smile, prompted her to laugh without hesitation. “The finest there is,” she grinned, “and not the least bit conceited.”

  “Is it conceited if it is a fact?”

  The twinkle in his eyes eased a knot in her chest that she’d not even realized was there until that exact moment. Bantering with him was one of her favorite activities, not only because it was fun but because she was comfortable with him like this. At least as comfortable as she was with Cassandra and Mary. As long as he wasn’t being seductive and causing her nerves to tangle together.

  “I don’t suppose it is, though there is much to be said for being modest.”

  “In that case, I should tell you that I would make a terrible match. I’m far too difficult to get along with and not nearly good looking enough for you. People would wonder what on earth you were thinking to marry a man such as me when you can do so much better.”

  Although there was humor in his voice as he spoke, Emily couldn’t quite manage the response she knew he was after. “I actually think it would be the other way around. Your popularity in London was undeniable.”

  His hand caught her elbow, gripping it tightly as he steered her forward, walking her further away from her mother. “You will not diminish yourself, Emily. Not ever again. Is that clear?”

  The fierceness with which he spoke caused her skin to tighten and her chest to contract with surprise. “I thought we agreed to be honest.”

  His hold on her softened, but he didn’t let go. “And you are lying to yourself and to me if you keep on insisting that you’re not pretty or worthy of attention.”

  “I’m not pretty,” Emily stated, because it was what she genuinely believed.

  “And yet somehow you managed to convince not one man but two to kiss you within only five minutes of each other.”

  “I did not convince Mr. Bale to do so.”

  Lord Griffin’s chuckle was grim. “There is no other reason why he would have walked into a dark corner of the garden with you, Miss Howard.”

  She hadn’t quite thought of it like that. And yet… “It is a well-known fact that men are willing to let their baser urges guide them. I took advantage of that fact.”

  An incredulous laugh burst past his lips. He halted his progress, forcing her to stop walking as well. “Is that what you think?”

  It was what she had thought at the time, but Emily was no longer sure if this theory of hers had merit. Still, she wasn’t quite ready to relent, so she gave him a nod instead.

  He stared at her for a long drawn-out moment, then muttered something she failed to hear and walked away. She followed him at a slow pace, stopping again when he spun back toward her, his expression both angry and confused and something else she couldn’t place.

  His finger rose like that of a chastising parent about to tell off a naughty child. “You…” The words seemed to stick in his throat. He shook his head, stopped pointing at her, and instead shoved both hands in his pockets. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer although it still remained wrapped in emotion. “You’re wrong.”

  Unsatisfied with such a simple remark since it failed to explain or convince her of anything, Emily knit her brow. “I don’t think so.”

  “Then let me elaborate for you.” There was a glint in his eyes now, a firmness to his mouth and his jaw that made him look rigid and stern. For some indescribable reason, this caused a frisson to dart down Emily’s spine. “Men do not go about kissing every woman who bats their eyelashes at them. By God, if that were the case we would not have been alone in the garden that evening but rather surrounded by other kissing couples. And just to be clear, I would not have done what I did if you had been anyone else.”

  Emily blinked. Fury had stolen into his gaze as he’d spoken, and her body responded, not with fear or displeasure, but with an elemental need to step into his space and wrap her arms around him. She wanted to feel his body flush against hers, to ease the tension in his muscles and kiss him until he was breathless.

  But to do so would seal both their fates. Especially since her mother was seated not too far away. So she forced herself to focus, to put her thoughts in order and form a response that would not reveal the impact his words had just had on her. “I do not believe that.”

  Perfect.

  Now she was telling him that he was being dishonest.

  As expected, his eyes widened. He leaned toward her, crowding her with his indignation and rising temper. “Believe what you will, Miss Howard, but the fact of the matter is that I have wanted you since the first day I saw you. So I took advantage. Yes. I kissed you. Not because you were eager to experience the act but because I was desperate to know what your lips would feel like beneath my own, because I was too weak to walk away from the chance you gave me, and because I was not about to let you kiss anyone else.”

  Emily gaped at him. His confession was like a runaway carriage that had driven right over the firm belief she’d had of him kissing her simply because he’d been trying to distract himself from her comment about his scar. “But…” Lord Griffin looked as stricken as she felt. “The kiss you gave me did not convey any of that. I mean, it was not—”

  “Passionate enough?” he prompted when she waved her hands in the air as if trying to conjure the necessary word.

  “Exactly.”

  He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I acted on impulse that evening. It wasn’t until my lips met yours that I realized the ramifications of what I had done, but as soon as I did, I froze.”

  “You worried that I would have expectations?”

  “A woman’s first kiss is a precious thing. It would only be natural for you to want a deeper attachment after.”

  Which was something she’d known he could not offer. “I understand. But now that you’ve gotten to know me better and you’ve learned how opposed to marriage I am, you’re willing to offer me more? Just as long as we’re both free to walk away when we’re finished?”

  He stared at her mutely, as if she’d just hit him over the head with a block of wood. “You say the damndest things sometimes,” he eventually told her.

  “I dare say it’s one of my finest qualities.”

  “Without a doubt.” He seemed to consider her for a moment, as if something vastly important was plaguing his mind. But rather than voice it, he offered his arm and proceeded to lead her back to her mother, who remained oblivious to the outrageous conversation that had just taken place not far from where she sat.

  Emily played the exchange over in her head later on that evening while readying herself for bed. Lord Griffin had made his position clear, but whether or not he would try to seduce her had yet to be determined, though she supposed he’d been at it for a while now already. Ever since he’d decided to come here with her.

  The chance that this might be the case caused excitement to rise up inside her, even as she reminded herself of how dangerous such an experience could be. After all, she had just acknowledged her feelings for him, and they would only grow stronger if she chose to go down this path. And yet, what was the chance of another man coming along years from now and offering her the same opportunity? If she refused Lord Griffin’s advances, she might never know what truly went on between men and women who desired each other.

  But would surrendering to seduction be worth the risk of eventual heartbreak?

  She stared at her reflection in the cheval glass. Lord Griffin was attracted to her in a way she’d never believed any man ever would be. Perhaps the question she ought to ask was whether or not she could survive knowing that she’d turned her back on what he offered.

&nb
sp; The answer to that was a loud and resounding “No.”

  11

  It had not been Griffin’s intention to reveal how much he wanted Emily, but damn him if he hadn’t been driven to exasperation by the certainty she had about her own undesirability. The fact that she would suppose he’d been driven to kiss her because of some primal instinct and not because he was genuinely drawn to her was galling.

  Huffing out a breath, he picked up the ratchet wheel with the tweezers he’d purchased and placed it carefully over the mainspring. The coil had been repaired and all remaining pieces cleaned, so the clock should work perfectly once he finished reassembling it. The clickspring was gently eased into place, and Griffin sat back, admiring his work. Only the winding pinon and wheel remained, and then he’d be finished with no more excuses to avoid Miss Howard’s company.

  And he had been avoiding it if he were honest. For the past three days since the picnic, he’d kept to the parlor in order to complete the paint job or to the dining room where he’d worked on her clock. Now that both tasks had almost been completed, he would have to come up with additional ways to keep his distance from her. The alternative would be to surrender to every temptation she offered.

  Of course there was the third option of simply leaving. He could be back in London within three days and on his way to Vienna the next. Mrs. Howard was here now, after all, along with her maid and coachman. Griffin’s protection was no longer needed as much as it had been before. But the very idea of leaving Miss Howard behind, of travelling away from her and adding distance between them, squeezed at his heart.

  He couldn’t do it.

  Not yet.

  But if not now, then when?

  He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and glanced around. What he needed was a drink. A large glass of soothing brandy. Spying a crystal decanter through the china cabinet’s glass door, Griffin pushed back his chair and went to retrieve it, relieved to discover that it was full.

  He filled a glass, returned the decanter to where it belonged, took a fortifying swallow, and considered his options once more. Miss Howard was being indecisive and distant. Ever since he’d blurted that he’d been mad for her right from the start, she’d put up a wall between them. Hell, she’d done so even before, he reflected. After he’d caught her spying on him during his morning swim.