While the Duke Was Sleeping (The Rogue Files #1)(37)

“Oh, and you would never do such a thing.” Her voice trembled, betraying her. “You who claim to be no gentleman.”

His fingers tightened marginally on her. “I am no gentleman.” He tugged her closer, his mouth a hairsbreadth from her own. “But I take care of what’s mine.”

Her stomach quivered at his pronouncement. She felt his words as deeply as she had felt his teeth on her flesh.

She swallowed and twisted her arm free. He let her go, watching her as though he would very much like to take a bite out of her again. She moved ahead of him. As predicted, he followed.

It took two blocks for her to recover her voice. “Let us just forget this happened.”

He didn’t reply for some moments and she felt something akin to relief. Perhaps she need say nothing more. Perhaps they would carry on and forget that kiss—forget all of this—had ever happened between them.

“Can you do that?” He angled his head as though interested in her response. Not that he gave her time to reply. “You’re lying if you say you can.”

“I can,” she insisted.

“Then I can’t.”

She sent him a startled glance. Clearly he didn’t mean that.

She snapped her face forward again, looking straight ahead. “I am your brother’s fiancée.” Now seemed as good a time as any to cling to that particular falsehood.

“Are you?”

There he went again with the mocking skepticism. She stopped hard for a moment and glanced up at him before resuming walking, her pace as brisk as ever.

“You know I am.” She lifted her chin, hoping to appear confident and not defensive.

“Then why did you kiss me back?”

“Did I?” she challenged, and somehow didn’t choke on that prevarication.

He chuckled. “Not at first, perhaps. Once your surprise ebbed away you most definitely kissed me back. I wouldn’t call that the behavior of a woman happily betrothed to another man, but don’t torture yourself. I won’t tell anyone. And it was nice. Unexpectedly so.”

They turned onto her street. Nice.

That shattering kiss was simply nice for him?

She seethed inside, feminine pride she didn’t know she possessed stinging. It had been more than nice. Every other kiss she’d experienced paled beside a kiss from this wretch of a man.

She stopped before her lodging house and turned smartly on her heels to face him.

He was busy looking at her residence, his forehead knitting as he took it in. “This is where you live?”

She squared her shoulders, perfectly aware of her humble dwelling. But seeing it now, through his eyes, she felt suddenly embarrassed. “Yes. You know as much.”

“Autenberry lets you live here?”

“No one lets me do anything . . . even Autenberry. I make my own decisions.”

He looked back at her curiously, and she couldn’t deny that it must look odd that the Duke of Autenberry would be affianced to someone who lived in a place like this.

“Doesn’t sound much like Autenberry.”

“Perhaps you don’t know your brother as well as you think you do.”

He shot another quick glance to the boardinghouse. “I think I may know him better than you do. I know a side to him that the world rarely sees.” A strange, pensive tone entered his voice and she wondered what he was thinking. She would hazard that it had to do with whatever rift stood between them.

She cleared her throat and he turned his attention back to her. “It’s late.” She motioned to the door. “I should go in. Thank you for—” driving me mad, insulting me, accosting me, kissing me “—walking me home.”

“I didn’t give you a choice.”

“No.” She gave the barest smile. “You didn’t.”

“No more walking alone at night.”

Instead of arguing or exchanging sniping words, she lifted the hem of her cloak and started up the steps leading into the house.

“Miss Fairchurch.” She looked over her shoulder at him. He stood with his legs braced, a pirate at the prow of his ship gazing up at her. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

Her pulse spiked at his words. Turning, she ascended the final steps and entered the house, shaken, furious. Furious with herself for letting things go so far with Struan Mackenzie. Furious that she had reveled in every moment of it.

What would he think, what would he do, when he found out the truth? The prospect made her shiver. A man like Struan would not appreciate being made a fool, and she was certain that’s how he would feel. He’d feel deceived, perhaps even mocked. Her skin broke out in goose bumps.

She couldn’t see him again. Even if a small part of her wanted to.

She sighed. As long as she was living this subterfuge, it was bound to happen. She would see him again whether she wished it or not. It was the last thing that should ever happen, but it would.

She simply needed to make certain that they were never alone again, that they never did any of the things they’d already done. She’d forget what it was like to be with him . . . to kiss him, to touch him and be touched by him. And then she wouldn’t feel so shaky and unsteady inside anymore.





Chapter 14




He wanted her.

Struan gazed after her as she disappeared into the substandard boardinghouse and knew this to be true with a sense of grim disgust. It was the truth and he needed to decide what he would do about it. Rather, he had to decide if he would do anything at all about it.