What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(52)

“Very well.” She pecked him on the mouth, thinking to escape, but she’d underestimated him. He plucked at her lips and she opened for him without a thought in her head. The sweep of his tongue mesmerized her. She grew a little bolder and experimented touching her tongue to his, and when he groaned, she knew he liked it. She wanted so much more from him, but their wraps and gloves prevented them from going farther. It was probably for the best. Then his hands burrowed inside her cape. “We must not,” she said.

“I know, but I yearn to touch you and for you to touch me.”

Beneath her bottom, she could feel the evidence of his desire.

“I beg your pardon. Have I shocked you?” he said.

Her face grew hot. “A little.”

He wrapped his arms around her again. “I am undone.”

When he captured her lips again, she opened for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but in truth, she could not deny that his erotic kisses and strong arms made her feel wanted and wonderful.

Their combined breaths frosted in the carriage. “Are you too cold?” he asked.

“Only a little.”

He rubbed his nose against hers. When he kissed her again, she opened her mouth for him, and he slid his tongue inside. She suspected he was imitating what he really wanted. He was so hard against her, and she understood his need, but they weren’t really engaged. “Colin? We had better stop.”

He tore his mouth away. “God almighty, I want you badly.”

“We can’t. Not here.”

“I know. I would not,” he said. “I am a gentleman, and it is cold.”

“I am a lady—well not so much in the carriage.”

“How do you feel about a trip to Gretna Green?”

She laughed. “I think you have lost what few wits you have,” she said. “I know you are jesting, but we agreed to three weeks. It’s so little time for us to learn more about each other. We should not waste it.”

“I know.” He paused. “If we marry, we will probably set the house on fire.”

She laughed. “I like that you make me laugh.”

“Kiss me instead.”

She opened her mouth for him, and she was lost in the sensation of his lips and tongue and the sweep of his hand over her breast.

“We have to stop,” she said. “We should talk about things that matter.”

His breathing was as labored as hers. “Can we get married now? I don’t want to wait.”

“You just want to bed me,” she said.

“So do you,” he said. “Angeline, this part is important.”

“That is why we have to stop,” she said, “because I’ve never wanted a man more.”

He set his forehead against hers. “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“Tell me,” she said. Her breathing sounded labored to her own ears.

He captured her hand and guided it to his chest. “I want your hands all over me.”

Had she just stopped breathing? “Do not tempt me.”

“I have too many layers of clothes, and so do you,” he said.

“That may be for the best; otherwise, we’re liable to do bad things in the carriage.”

“We could do that,” he said, “but you’re a virgin.”

“How do you know?”

“You aren’t?”

She pushed him. “Of course I am.”

He laughed and hugged her tightly. “It is too cold anyway.”

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

“Is it always like this?” she said.

“Like how?” he said, his voice rough.

“Like a craving, one that is forbidden and so hard to resist.”

“No, it isn’t always this strong.” He cupped her cheek. “This is special.”


“Are you just saying that so I will touch you again?”

He looked into her eyes and his expression was solemn. “No.”

Eventually, their breathing slowed.

When the carriage rolled around the drive, she adjusted her bodice and closed her cape over her gown. “Now we must behave.”

“Drat,” he said.

She gave him an exasperated look. “Go find the ladder. I’ll have Agnes clean kitchen utensils. “I’ll be in the drawing room making sketches. When you get hungry, come find me and we’ll have luncheon.”



She watched him move the ladder along the house. John stayed with him. Angeline walked upstairs with her sketchbook and sat on the sofa. She envisioned a gold-framed mirror above the sideboard. Then she walked to the windows where Colin was hammering something. She smiled. He was no dandy, and clearly not afraid to get his hands dirty. Standing there, she realized that a long balcony just below the French windows would make the perfect place for flowers and maybe chairs for guests to look at the stars in summertime. She sat cross-legged on the floor and drew her design quickly so that she wouldn’t lose the idea. Then she rose and walked to the stairwell and ascended it to the highest point. She imagined a three-tiered chandelier suspended before a series of Palladian windows. It would look very dramatic at night. She thought guests arriving for a dinner party would be impressed. When she made a quick sketch, she drew figures of gentlemen and ladies looking upward.