Page 3 of Meet A Rogue At Midnight
Barks of laughter rang through the house. The Yuletide song was done, the cue for her to leave. She smiled gamely, taking a cautious side-step toward the wheel lock. Jonas must’ve read her intent because he was off the bed nimble as a cat, standing between her and the gun.
“Don’t be stubborn, Liv. What about your mother and father? They must be worried.” A subtle frown clouding his face, he focused on his half-fastened placket. “This goes beyond the pale…even for you.”
Spine straight, she owned her choices. There’d been many painful ones of late. The timing aside, she didn’t regret her theft. But, stealing from a dear, childhood friend—even a long absent one—wasn’t easy.
Not when his gentle baritone chided her.
“You’re not answering me.” Jonas slipped a brass button into its red velvet hole.
Such large hands. Mouth slack, a shiver skimmed her body. Facing him, she couldn’t make her tongue work. A muscle bulged in the valley between his thumb and forefinger. Long fingers skimmed his placket with a deft touch, the veins and sinew twisting under his skin. Was he as careful when touching a woman? She swallowed peculiar thickness in her throat. Jonas required answers. It’d be nice to tell him who carried the burdens at home now, but to what end? Childhood was gone, taking some of her openness with it. Jonas wasn’t long for Plumtree. Better to give blithe evasions, same as she did with everyone else this year.
“My mother and father are safely abed,” she said. “Where I need to be, if you’d be so kind as to forget about my being here.”
“Not likely.”
Ruby red velvet hugged brawny thighs. Jonas glowed with good health, his flesh brown as a roasted coffee bean. Above his placket, stomach muscles flexed with grooves and hollows. He’d seen the world and by the looks of all his gloriously sun-kissed skin, the world had seen Jonas.
She licked her lips, her boots shuffling a side-step to the window. “Come now. We always looked past each other’s questionable exploits.”
“As you aptly pointed out, we’re not children anymore.” Brows furrowing, he glanced at the door. “How did you get in here anyway?”
She tipped her head at mullioned glass. “The window by way of your oak tree.”
“A grown woman climbing trees.” His face split with a lovely grin. “Haven’t lost your spirit, have you?”
She smiled back. Strong and quiet, Jonas was the steady one in childhood storms, even when he stirred up trouble. She was tempted to curl up by the fire and ask him to spin tales of his travels. Being with Jonas had been the best part of growing up, but reckless days following the Braithwaite brothers were long over. She had her work and her family’s circumstances to consider. A raven-haired adventurer wasn’t part of her path. Seizing the moment, she took quick steps to the window before the night worsened. The Spanish wheel lock would have to wait.
A long arm blocked her way. “You should leave by the front door. It’s safer.”
“I can’t,” she cried. “The Captain and his guests will see me.”
“What? You break into my bedchamber at midnight and you’re worried about what’s proper?”
“I don’t make a practice of this.”
“I can tell. You’re not very good at it.” He flipped open his sea chest. “You haven’t told me why you’re here. Settling some score with the Captain?”
She held her breath when he searched the chest. Would he notice the empty leather purse? Jonas peppered her with questions, his hurried hands grabbing clothes before shutting the lid. This wasn’t about the Captain. This was about Jonas. The pilfered piece was tucked in her coat pocket.
“I’ll…I’ll tell you before Twelfth Night ends. I promise.” Her voice was strained. “Let me leave quietly. Consider it a boon to an old friend.”
Jonas held his shirt aloft, his deep blue stare scalding her. Her heart thudded. Air was heavy between them as laughter exploded through the floorboards. Jonas fit the white shirt over his head, the corners of his mouth tight when his face showed again.
“It’ll cost you.”
His smooth baritone sent a delicate shiver across secret, feminine skin.
“You can count on me to pay my debts.”
The surprise was how much she still cared for him, the unexplainable depth beyond friendship and girlish infatuation. Their lives entwined from years of scrapes and merriment. Time hadn’t diminished the bond. Contrary to what she’d said, she wanted him to bid her sit by the fire and question her midnight visit. Instead, Jonas gave up easily. He quietly accepted her refusal like a man keeping polite distance, a man who couldn’t involve himself in her affairs. Not anymore.
Watching him dress was personal, yet Jonas donned his clothes with a casual air. A twinge sunk in her stomach:Had he grown comfortable dressing in the company of a woman?
“You’ll want to take that home.” Jonas tipped his head at the wheel lock, his fingers flying over pearled waistcoat buttons.
She retrieved the weapon and held it up by the barrel. “I brought it in case I ran into one of the Captain’s friends…a woman’s precaution if you will.” She tucked the pistol into the back waistband of her breeches. “I am sorry I pointed it at you and for stomping your foot. I was frightened.…everything went fast.”
He slipped on a well-traveled boot. “You’re forgiven.”
