To Beguile a Beast (Legend of the Four Soldiers #3)(32)

Her cheeks reddened, making her blue eyes sparkle with indignation. “I have only the two dresses, if you must know. It isn’t my fault that you find them objectionable.”

He took a step toward her, his chest nearly touching the dress in question. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was trying to drive her away or lure her closer. The scent of lemons was heady in his nostrils. “And what of your insistence on barging into my rooms without so much as a knock?”

“I—”

“The only conclusion I can come to is that you wish to see my body unclothed. Again.”

Her eyes dropped—perhaps inevitably—to where his smallclothes tented over his rampant cock. Her lush, beckoning lips parted. God! This woman drove him insane.

He couldn’t help but bend his head toward her, watching those plump red lips as she licked them nervously. “Perhaps I ought to assuage your curiosity.”

HE MEANT TO kiss her, Helen knew. The intent was in every line of his face, in the sensuous look of his eye, in the determined pose of his body. He meant to kiss her, and the awful part was that she wanted him to. She wanted to feel those sometimes sarcastic, sometimes hurting lips on hers. She wanted to taste him, to inhale his male scent as he tried her. She actually began to lean toward him, to tilt her face up, to feel the racing of her heart. Oh, yes, she longed for him to kiss her, perhaps more than she longed for her next breath.

And then the children rushed into the room. Actually, it was Jamie mainly, running as always, with his sister following more slowly behind. Sir Alistair cursed rather foully under his breath and turned to clutch the sheets about his waist. He needn’t have bothered, though, for all the attention the children paid him.

“A puppy!” Jamie cried, and lunged for the poor creature.

“Careful,” Sir Alistair said. “He hasn’t…”

But his warning came too late. Jamie lifted the dog, and at the same time, a thin stream of yellow liquid poured onto the floor. Jamie stood there, mouth open, holding the puppy in front of him.

“Ah…” Sir Alistair stared blankly, his magnificent chest still bared. Helen sympathized with the man. Half killed by cold the night before, not even dressed this morning, and already invaded by incontinent dogs and running children.

She cleared her throat. “I think—”

But she was interrupted by a giggle. A sweet, high, girlish giggle that she hadn’t heard since they’d left London. Helen turned.

Abigail was still standing by the doorway, both hands clapped over her mouth, giggles spilling forth from between her fingers. She lowered her hands.

“He peed on you!” she crowed to her poor brother. “Peed and peed and peed! We ought to call him Puddles.”

For a moment, Helen was afraid that Jamie would burst into tears, but then the puppy wriggled and he drew the little animal to his chest, grinning. “He’s still a grand puppy. But we oughtn’t to call him Puddles.”

“Definitely not Puddles,” Sir Alistair rumbled, and both children started and looked at him as if they’d forgotten him.

Abigail sobered. “It’s not our dog, Jamie. We can’t name him.”

“No, he’s not your dog,” Sir Alistair said easily, “but I need help naming him. And at the moment, I need someone to take him out on the lawn and make sure he does the rest of his business there instead of the castle. Do I have any volunteers?”

The children jumped to the task, and Sir Alistair had barely nodded before they were out of the room. Suddenly she was alone again with the master of the castle.

Helen bent to wipe at the puddle on the floor with the cloth she’d brought from the kitchen along with the pap. She avoided his eyes. “Thank you.”

“What for?” His voice was careless as he flipped the sheets back on the bed.

“You know.” She looked up at him and realized her vision had blurred with tears. “Letting Abigail and Jamie take care of the puppy. They… they needed that right now. Thank you.”

He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “It’s little enough.”

“Little enough?” She stood, suddenly irritated. “You almost killed yourself getting that dog. It was more than little enough!”

“Who says I got the dog for the children?” he growled.

“Didn’t you?” she demanded. He liked to act the beast, but underneath she sensed a different man entirely.

“And if I did?” He stepped closer and gently grasped her shoulders. “Perhaps I deserve a reward.”

She had no time to think or debate or even anticipate. His lips were on hers, warm and slightly rasping from the stubble on his chin, and oh, they felt good. Masculine. Yearning. She hadn’t been wanted like this in so long. Hadn’t been kissed by a man since she couldn’t remember. She leaned into him, her hands on his bare upper arms, and that was wonderful, too, the feel of his hot, smooth skin beneath her fingers. He opened his mouth over hers and probed gently with his tongue, and she opened, welcoming him in. Happily. Wonderfully. Easily.

Perhaps too easily.

This was her one great fault: a tendency to act too soon. To fall in love too fast. Giving everything of herself only to regret her impulsive passion later. She’d thought Lister’s kisses lovely, too, once upon a time, and what had that led to?

Nothing but despair.