Page 88 of Noble Scoundrel

How could she have fallen asleep immediately after such an amazing experience? If she hadn’t, would Hale have stayed? Would she have wanted him to?

Her belly swirled with longing. She absolutely would have.

For a man who was undeniably brash and coarse and frustratingly domineering, his sensual command of her body and her pleasure had been full of tenderness and generosity.

There was so much more to the man than he allowed most people to see.

Last night, she’d touched the part of him that he kept concealed behind a harsh, smirking exterior. She wanted more. She wanted to know him. His past, his fears, his desires and dreams. She wanted to be someone he trusted with all of himself. She wanted to understand what had formed him into the man he was.

And most of all...she wanted to be a woman he stayed with through the night.

With a sharp pang through her chest, she realized that was the main source of her distress. After the shuddering kisses, the tantalizing caresses, the soul-altering pleasure, he’d simply dressed and walked away.

It shouldn’t matter.

When she’d decided to take him into her bed, she’d had no expectations beyond the need to express the desire roaring through her. No illusions of forever. It had been for the pure carnal experience, an inevitable culmination of the attraction that had been building between them.

But there had been moments she’d looked into his eyes and had felt so much more. A connection. A completion. A sense of rightness and wonder. Had it been a trick of the candlelight or a lustful illusion that had her thinking she’d glimpsed the same emotion in his eyes?

And why did the thought that she’d fooled herself into believing something magical had occurred between them last night make her feel so sad with loss?

#

TILTING HER HEAD, KATHERINE frowned at her reflection in the mirror above her vanity. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for or why she felt like she wasn’t finding it, but something in her expression gave her a brusque twinge of dissatisfaction.

She had dressed for Lord Shelbourne’s soiree in a gown of pale lavender with soft grey lace trimming the sleeves, bodice, and hem. Her hair had been coiled and twisted and curled and pinned atop her head. Three strands of pearls clasped together with a sparkling amethyst broach encircled her neck, and small pearls dangled from her ears.

Her appearance wasn’t the height of London fashion, but it would have to do.

She did not relish the idea of going out tonight, but she’d accepted Lord Shelbourne’s invitation to the small soirée days ago when she’d felt a need to establish some social ties for Frederick’s sake.

She just wished it didn’t have to be tonight, when she was still reeling from the experience with Hale. Her mind was cluttered with serious thoughts and words still unspoken, feelings that seemed bigger than she’d expected, and such a loss of control it made her heart race to think of it.

She wasn’t altogether surprised when she’d received his note cancelling their lesson scheduled for that day, though she was certainly annoyed he hadn’t bothered to provide a reason. She’d gone to her study instead to read through her father’s journals yet another time. The talk about Emsworth’s possible involvement and the missing journals had her mind whirling in all directions as she struggled to pinpoint how any of it pertained to her brother.

As the clock struck the hour, she rose to her feet with a twist of unease in her stomach and smoothed her hands down the silk of her gown. It was just a party. Amongst a crowd of strangers.

No problem.

At the bottom of the stairs, she collected her cloak from Foster, who informed her the carriage had already been brought round from the mews and was waiting outside. She was just about to head out the door when she heard a familiar foot tread behind her. A rush of tingling sparks erupted in her belly as she turned to see Hale stalking purposefully down the stairs. He’d dressed in dark clothing and no cravat. His hair fell to his shoulders. When she took a brave glance at his face, it was to see a heavy scowl darkening his brow.

“Don’t tell me you were thinking to leave without me.”

She frowned as her brain struggled to catch up to the riotous reaction in her body. “And why wouldn’t I?”

He came to a stop in front of her. Close enough she had to tip her chin to look into his face. His hard stare swept over her appearance from head to toe before coming back up to meet her gaze.

Then—finally—he smiled and his voice dropped to a husky timbre. “You dress up rather nicely, dove.”

Ignoring the way his voice made her melt, she pressed her lips together and lifted a brow. “You are not coming with me tonight.”

Arriving without a chaperone was one thing. Arriving with a brutish bodyguard was quite another.

“Oh, yes I am,” he replied as he took her hand and slid it into the bend of his elbow before guiding her down the front steps.

“There is no cause for you to join me,” she argued, though she already suspected it was futile. “Your job is to protect Frederick. He is staying here; therefore, you must stay here.”

Reaching the carriage, Hale held her hand firmly to assist her into the vehicle. “I have four well-trained men guarding this house and your brother tonight.”

---