Page 7 of Her Rogue to Kiss Good Morning
“I think you like me,” he said.“You are doing a wonderful job of pretending.Yet, here I stand, and here you are, parrying every word I speak with one of your own.One might almost believe you enjoy it.”
Her eyes snapped to his, clear and bright as a blade.“You overestimate your charm, my lord.”She closed the book in her hands with a soft thud and placed it back upon the shelf.“I find verbal sparring no different than fencing practice.It keeps one’s reflexes sharp.”
Grant’s lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile.“Then I shall endeavor to keep you well-trained, my lady.”
The faintest flicker of something crossed her face—annoyance, perhaps, but threaded through with amusement.He could work with that.He had always preferred a worthy opponent, and this woman, with her steady gaze and proud carriage, was unlike any he had ever pursued.Most ladies melted beneath a few murmured compliments.Not her.She held her ground as if she were defending a fortress.
Good.He liked fortresses.He liked storms.And Lady Cocwood was both.
“You may try all you wish, my lord,” she said, gathering her skirts and turning toward the bookshelf.“But I warn you now—I am not a conquest to be won.”She pulled yet another book down.This one was encased in brown leather.One that was well worn as if it were one of the resident’s favorite tomes.She moved past him and moved toward a nearby settee.
He followed but kept a respectful distance.“Then perhaps,” he said softly, “you are a treasure to be discovered.Slowly.”
Her step faltered, just for an instant, before she recovered.“You are incorrigible,” she murmured, settling down on the settee with her book, as if the simple act could shield her from his gaze.
Grant let her have her reprieve.For now.But as he watched her flipped the pages of her book with careful composure, he knew—absolutely—that she felt the same pull he did.She might fight him with every ounce of her will, but he had time.He had patience.And he had every intention of using both.
For the first time in his life, the thought of pursuit felt less like a game and more like a purpose.She was not simply another flirtation.She was temptation wrapped in steel, a woman who might actually matter.And Grant found himself with far too many idle amusements.He hungered for the one thing he had never expected to want…something real.
“What have you found to read?”he inquired.
She sighed and glanced up at him.“Must you be so irritating?”
His lips twitched.“No,” he said.“But it amuses me to fluster you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back in the settee.“What must I say or do to make you leave me be?I do wish to read this book, and you are making it impossible.”
“Come for a walk with me,” he said impulsively.“I am restless, and I adore your company.”
She shook her head.“I do not wish to…”
“Please,” he begged.He was not against using whatever he could to keep her by his side.He did want them to be friends.Though he did hope for more than that… He fully believed they would be lovers one day and it would be far better if they were friends first.He wanted her to be comfortable with him.It would make it far easier for him to give her the pleasure she deserved.“Don’t allow me to be alone.I need the company.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” she said, but she stood and closed her book.“If I walk with you now do you promise to allow me the peace to read when we return.”
“Absolutely,” he said without hesitation.He might have agreed to anything to gain her acquiescence in this.“Shall we then?”
She shook her head, but he caught the twitch of her lips as she fought a smile.His charm was working even though she steadfastly denied it.He was winning her over and he was invigorated by the small progress he had made so far with her.
“I suppose we shall,” she agreed.She set her book down on a nearby table and moved over to him.They exited the library in companionable silence.He would use this time with her to make sure she became even more accustomed to him.Grant had a plan.He would not fail.She was the one woman he knew in his soul he could not lose.He did not know how he knew that.He just did.He would not rush her.But he would not give up.Not on this.Not on her.
Five
The late afternoon sun draped the Sinbrough gardens in a warm, golden light, setting each blossom and leaf aglow as if kissed by fire.The air carried the faint perfume of roses and lavender, mingling with the crisp scent of freshly cut grass.Clara admired the beauty of the gardens, but that was not what held her attention.A walk had seemed a simple enough concession when she had agreed to accompany Lord Oakwood, but now, as she stepped onto the winding gravel path, she could feel a tension in her chest that had little to do with the cool breeze that left her skin chilled.
Lord Oakwood was beside her, his long strides easy and confident.His coat was tailored impeccably, and the late afternoon sunlight caught the glint of gold buttons.The viscount’s presence was a little devastating to behold, and Clara found, to her dismay, that she was keenly aware of every part of him.Every tilt of his head, every careful word, seemed designed to unsettle her, and she was tempted in a way she had not anticipated.Could never have anticipated…
She reminded herself with deliberate firmness why she had resolved never to marry again.Her late husband had left her destitute, his recklessness ensuring she would be left alone and without support.She had promised herself no man would ever hold sway over her life again; she would not allow her heart—or her future to be left in the hands of any man.If not for her sister… She didn’t want to think where she would be without Juliet.
And yet, as Lord Oakwood turned a corner of the garden and gestured toward a secluded grove, the sharp line of his jaw outlined against the dappled sunlight, Clara felt her resolve begin to fray.His easy charm, his warmth, the way he regarded her not with pity but with interest—dangerous, intoxicating interest—made her pulse quicken.She despised herself for noticing, for the heat that crept into her cheeks.She wasn’t a fool.Clara could sense he wanted more from her.More than she had wanted to give, but because she was tempted, she might give in to what this man desired from her.She might give more of herself than she was prepared for, and it might ruin her all over again.
She clenched her gloved hands together, forcing her eyes to the path beneath her feet.You cannot, she whispered to herself.You will not.Yet, the knowledge that she might entertain a single thought of him, that she might imagine what it would be like to yield, sent a thrill through her.Something she had not believed she would ever feel again… Because her husband’s foolishness had stripped her of any sense of security, and she was not so certain she could trust anyone.Let alone Viscount Oakwood...
Could he offer her something she had never had?Something she would never admit she desired—a night filled with passion and a morning without regret?The notion, unbidden, stole into her mind as she lifted her gaze to meet his.His eyes held a spark, the faintest trace of amusement at the sudden flutter she could not hide, and something inside her shifted, dangerously, irresistibly.
“Is something on your mind, Lady Cocwood?”he asked.There was a mischievousness in his gaze that held her riveted.
“Not at all,” she answered quickly.Perhaps too quickly… “That is, nothing that concerns you.”It all concerned him… Drat.She was being foolish.She would not act on this impulse.It would be the worst of mistakes for her to make.
