Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season #2)(6)
“Better than me, Rose,” he said quietly.
Rose reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re the one I want. The one I’ve always wanted. Perhaps we can’t be together for the long term, but—”
“Then what is the point of this?” he asked gently. “I’ll ruin you.”
“I don’t care.” She reached for his arousal through his trousers. “You still want me.”
“God, yes.”
“Then take me, Cameron. I’m yours tonight.”
God forgive him his weakness. He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately, easing her down to the grass once again. He reached under her skirts and stroked her. She was still wet for him. He hastily unbuttoned his trousers, freeing his aching erection, and moved on top of her.
“It may hurt a bit,” he said. “I’ll try to be gentle.”
“Yes, I know. It will be all right.”
He nudged the head of his cock through the slit in her drawers, rubbing it against her juices. “Oh God,” he groaned. “Oh God, Rose.” He teased her entrance, braced himself to begin his descent.
“No!” Rose pushed against his shoulder, her eyes suddenly icy and full of terror. “No! I changed my mind. I can’t, I can’t!”
He moved away from her quickly, the unsated hunger almost unbearable. “Damn you,” he said between clenched teeth. “I gave you two chances to stop me, you little cocktease. Damn you!”
Rose began to weep quietly, hurriedly tucking her breasts back into her bodice. She stood. “Please forgive me,” she said, her gaze cast downward. She ran away, sobbing.
“Damn it,” Cameron said under his breath, and then, loudly, his voice strained with remorse, “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it! Come back, sweetheart. Please!” He would hold her and comfort her, tell her it was all right, that he would wait for her.
But Rose ignored him and ran toward the mansion, disappearing into the vacant ballroom.
Cameron buttoned his trousers, his arousal still burning. “Fuck you, you stupid idiot. How could you believe she actually wanted you?”
He walked away from the house. He couldn’t go in and join the party for dinner. If he missed out on a chance for another commission, so be it. He couldn’t see Rose again. Never again. It was over. Hell, it hadn’t even begun.
It never could.
He trudged home to his cottage on the Lybrook land. The sun was edging over the horizon when he finally fell into his bed, exhausted, his feet blistering from the long walk in his new boots.
Chapter Two
Rose entered the ballroom from the back terrace. Several servants were cleaning up, but they paid her no heed, thank goodness. She hurried to the back stairwell and made her way to her bedchamber on the second floor of the east wing. She longed to fling herself on her bed and cry herself to sleep, but she couldn’t miss the midnight meal. Her parents would never forgive her. She wished for a moment that she were Lily, who wouldn’t think twice about defying convention and doing what she wished. But she wasn’t Lily. She was Rose, and Rose always did what was expected of her. Lily would have slept with Cameron tonight, on the grass, if that was what she had desired. Rose, however, knew her place.
She strode into her dressing room and sat down in front of the looking glass. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks streaked with tears, her lips dark and swollen from Cameron’s kisses. Cameron’s kisses, so different from Evan’s. Evan’s kisses were gentle and sweet, and Rose enjoyed them. But Cameron’s… She had never imagined… Kisses that took as well as gave, kisses that made her womb ache, that changed the very composition of her soul. She went to the basin, splashed cold water on her face, and returned to the mirror. She pinched her cheeks until they had regained their peachy rosiness and began to work on her hair. When she was satisfied that she was presentable, she rang for maid to tighten her corset. She moved to the full-length looking glass and smoothed her gown as best she could, tucking in her swollen breasts.
As she walked down the hallway toward the stairwell, she hesitated for a moment, tempted to go up instead of down and find Lily. But her sister was no doubt in bed, making love to her new husband. She would never forgive Rose for disturbing her wedding night.
Lily and Daniel were leaving early the next day for London to begin their wedding trip. Rose would rise early tomorrow, no matter how exhausted she was, and catch Lily before she left. In the meantime, she had no choice but to venture downstairs and partake of the midnight meal. She was already unfashionably tardy.
Lord Evan Xavier stood when Rose entered the dining room. “Where have you been?” he asked. “Your mother has been concerned.”
“Please forgive me, my lord,” she said. “I was feeling a bit poorly so I went to my chamber to rest for a bit. I didn’t mean to cause anyone needless worry.”
Evan furrowed his brow. “Are you better now?”
“Yes, thank you. I hope I haven’t missed too much.”
“Only the appetizers. The soup is being served now.” He led her to her table with the rest of the wedding party. The chairs for the duke and duchess were conspicuously vacant. “I see Lybrook and your sister decided to forego the feast,” Evan said, chuckling. “Not that I blame the bloke.”