A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords #1)(16)

His response made her brows pull together and a cleft formed at the bridge of her nose. Bloody hell, how had he never noticed how adorable she looked when confused?

Perhaps because he’d never seen her confused before tonight. Or angry, or amused…or passionate. Tonight was a veritable cornucopia of firsts when it came to Claire Cleveland.

“You must be joking,” she said uncertainly.

“Why would I be joking?” Now it was his turn to be confused. Had he really made such a name for himself as an incorrigible rake that it was so bloody hard to believe that he might be interested in something more one day? That maybe he too wanted a family, and yes, maybe even love if he was so lucky.

Granted, the odds were stacked against him, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. Just that it was a rarity. He doubted the sanity of anyone who set their hopes on finding it but was the first to admit to envy when the lucky few stumbled up on it.

Her hand resting on his arm fluttered a bit as she searched for words. “But…But…the very idea is so unreasonable.”

“Mmm.” That he could not argue. One glance at the lovebirds up above them gave proof to her statement. Whatever it was between them was most certainly not based in reason.

Her brows drew together further at his lack of a response. “The very idea is ludicrous. It is a pretty word placed upon natural urges and—” Her mouth snapped shut as her cheeks turned pink once more.

What he wouldn’t give to know what she had been about to say. He leaned forward, lowering his voice as he fought back a laugh. “Do go on,” he murmured. “I would love to hear more about these urges.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know exactly to what urges I refer.”

His mind went back to that passionate kiss earlier in the night and one look in her clear blue eyes told him her mind had headed in the same direction. “Indeed, I do.”

He hadn’t meant it to sound so salacious but when his mouth opened his voice mirrored the thoughts in his head, and those thoughts were extraordinarily wicked. He found himself looking for a place they could slip away to, wondering how he could lure her back into his arms, pondering just how he would kiss her and where he would start first.

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze away from her lips. “So you do not believe in love then, I take it.”

“Of course not, it’s just a silly notion,” she said, her voice stiffer than it had been. Had she felt it too, the shift in the air between them? The heat that seemed to course through them wherever their bodies came into contact?

He wanted her. This was hardly news but the thought resonated within him. He wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting any woman. Urges, she’d said. And yes, perhaps these were just natural human urges.

Or maybe it was more.

The final strains of the music fell around them. This moment was coming to an end. Soon this night would come to an end.

He felt absurdly nostalgic for an evening that had not yet ended. The last note played but he found he could not relinquish his grip. He could not let go.

She tilted her face up and looked at him with questioning eyes. Whatever she saw in his gaze made her lips part and her eyes widen with wonder.

“I see,” he repeated, for lack of anything else to say. How could he think of a rational thought when his mind was muddled by desire? His voice, he was happy to learn, revealed nothing of the tumult going on within him. Under normal circumstances he would be the first to point out how ridiculous this situation was and how utterly foolish his behavior.

But nothing about this night had been normal. Not his conversation with Jed when he offered his moral support to meet with a lowlife gaming hell owner to pay off his debts, not being chased down by Jed’s self-righteous, morally superior younger sister, and certainly not the passionate kiss with said sister.

He drew in a deep breath and forced his arms to let her go. She was not his—not now, not ever. He had no claims to Claire Cleveland and no right to hold her like he was in public and without music playing.

Funny how waltzing was dangerously close to embracing once the music stopped.

He escorted her off the dance floor in heavy silence. For his part, he was trying to figure out how to see her again. Preferably alone. He was also calculating the odds on stealing another kiss before the night was through.

He glanced over and caught sight of that prim and proper posture, the demure lowering of her eyes.

Slim to none on the kissing, he’d imagine. But a man could hope, couldn’t he? What, he wondered, would it take to get her to lose the virtuous and boring debutante fa?ade? How could he get the real Claire Cleveland to come out and play once more before the night was through?

Claire’s younger sister, Georgie, waved to her from the sidelines and they dutifully headed in her direction. Once he handed her over to the protection of her family she would be safe.

He cast a glance around for that repulsive baron with his lecherous leer. Claire ought to be safe from him, at the very least.

He gave her younger sister a tight smile before bowing over Claire’s hand, not daring to meet her enchanting gaze once more lest he forget where they were and give in to the temptation to kiss her, which would ruin her and damn him to marriage.

There are worse punishments than to be bound to a woman who kissed like Claire, that voice taunted.

Perhaps that voice was right. But that didn’t change the fact that Claire had narrowly escaped the noose of marriage herself and was not ready for that next step. She had the freedom to take her time now and she deserved to exercise that right.