Page 26 of A Rogue's Downfall
“Because I cannot take them to bed without marrying them first,” he said.
“Ah, yes, of course,” she said. “So I am not to feel slighted that you did not notice me? I am not to feelforever unlovely and unattractive because the notablerake, Viscount Lyndon, never once allowed his eyes toalight on me? How reassuring.”
“Actually,” he said, “if I had allowed my eyes to do any such thing, Caroline, I might have found myselfbehaving atypically. I might have found myself in pursuit of a virtuous woman. You are extremely lovely, asI am sure your glass must tell you every time youglance into it.”
“Oh, well done.” She turned her head to look up into his face, allowing her eyes to sparkle, though it was notdifficult. The compliment really had pleased her. “Areyou now making a concerted effort to woo me? Tomake me fall in love with you? You came perilouslyclose to scoring a hit that time. Perilous for me, thatis.”
His eyes smiled at her. “And your enthusiasm,” he said, “is doing the like for me, Caroline. It is time foreach of us to redouble our efforts and our guard, Ibelieve.”
He stopped walking in order to look back over his shoulder. She did the same so that their heads almosttouched. There must be almost half a mile of beachbetween them and the others already. They were clustered about the bathing huts, probably trying to decidewhether any of them was going to be brave enough totest the water.
“You tasted particularly enticing last night,” the viscount said, turning his head partway. She did the same so that they were gazing into each other’s eyes, onlyinches apart. “I wonder if you taste the same thisafternoon.”
She could not believe the words that came from her mouth. They seemed not to have passed through herbrain for approval first. “There is an easy way of finding out,” she said.
“And so there is.” He had taken her free hand in his and laced his fingers with that too. He took the halfstep that separated them. “Maybe I should take it.”
“Yes.” She could feel his thighs warm and hard against hers. Her breasts were pressed against his coat.She had to bend her head back in order to look up athim. And she had not been mistaken. There really hadbeen the smell of him on her pillow last night. Anelusive smell—soap, cologne, leather, all three, none ofthe three. A heady masculine smell. She closed hereyes.
His lips were slightly parted when they met hers. They were warm and exploring. She allowed her ownto relax beneath them instead of clamping them into atight line as she had done with the two gentlemen whohad been permitted to kiss her on previous occasions.She willed him to touch her with his tongue again andhe did, running it lightly along her upper lip and backalong the lower until she felt a sharp stabbing of sensation in her breasts. She wanted his tongue in her mouthso that she could discover if she found it disgusting, asshe had not the night before when she had been halfasleep. But he made no move to put it there.
“Mmm,” she heard someone say. It was a feminine voice and could only have been her own.
“Mmm, indeed.” His forehead and nose were against hers and he was gazing down at her mouth.
She felt foolish. “Well?” she asked.“DoI taste the same?”
“Last night,” he said, “you tasted of bed and sleep. This afternoon you taste of sunshine and sea and beach.And both times of woman.”
He was so much more experienced at this sort of thing than she was. Even the pitch and tone of hisvoice—
“Oh, dear,” she said, drawing back her head so that she could look into his face without going cross-eyed.And her voice again acted independently of her brain.“I think we should build a sand castle.”
He had the most attractive grin of any man she had ever seen, she decided. Of course, with those teeth andthose eyes and the all-over beauty, it was not surprising. She wished she had not said anything so stupid.Whatever had possessed her?
“Or something,” she added lamely.
“What a delightful idea,” he said. “But we have nothing with which to dig except our hands. Are you willing to get sand beneath your fingernails?”
“Yes,” she said. “There is no greater fun than being all over sand.” Or at least there had not been whenshe was twelve years old or less. But she was twenty-three and he was thirty. How ridiculous he must thinkher.
He set an arm about her waist and started walking again. She had little choice but to wrap her danglingarm about his waist. “A little farther along,” he said,“where the sand looks softer. But you do not play fair,Caroline. I am used to a different kind of flirtation. I am not sure that my heart is proof against this.”
Which was clearly the most stupid thing either of them had said all day.
He had thought of a digging instrument while they walked and when they stopped, presented her with hisquizzing glass with a bow and a flourish. She looked atit dubiously.
“The rim is somewhat blunt,” he said, “but it may help.”
“It may never be usable as a quizzing glass again, though,” she said. “But then perhaps that is just aswell. There is nothing more unmannerly, I believe,than quizzing ladies through a glass.”
“But it can be marvelously revealing, Caroline,” he said. “And marvelously intimidating too. There is nothing better calculated to discourage ambitious mamasthan a quizzing glass and a haughty stance.”
She set the glass down on the sand while she removed her bonnet. “I would not imagine,” she said, “that thereare many ambitious mamas for you to repel anylonger.”
“Hm, nasty,” he said. “You would be surprised, Caroline. A title and fortune and prospects cover over a multitude of sins.”
He took off his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. And they set to the task of transforming oneparticularly flat and featureless area of beach into a formidable castle strong enough to withstand the attack ofthe tide. They worked together for fifteen minutes innear silence until he sat down to remove his Hessiansand his stockings.
