“Because you’re leaving,” he growled. “You’re going back to London where you belong before you do something foolish and ruin your reputation beyond repair.”
The truth of it was, she had already ruined her reputation merely by being in attendance. But fortunately, no one else was the wiser, save him, and he would go to his grave keeping the secret if it meant protecting her.
“I’m not returning to London until this house party is over, Richford.” She yanked her arm away, her lips compressed at a mulish angle that told him she was ready to go to battle with him yet again.
His cock twitched to life.
Was it wrong that he liked sparring with her? Yes, it was. Did that stop his prick from stiffening the moment she started glaring at him with indignant fury? Not at all.
“This isn’t an argument to have here in the midst of the hall, minx,” he said. “Come with me.”
He would find an empty salon and attempt to reason with her, all whilst keeping his hands, lips, and unrepentant cockstand to himself. Aubrey could exercise restraint, even if the sorts of restraints he preferred were the kinds he applied to his lovers in bed.
“So that you can lock me inside a room again?” she demanded, sounding indignant. “Ha! I think not, Richford. Go find someone else to torment. Leave me alone.”
“Unfortunately for both of us, I’m obliged to look after your welfare,” he countered, annoyed with her as much as himself for the never-ceasing lust that prevailed whenever he was around her.
And when he wasn’t.
He had come twice with his own hand wrapped around his cock, once last night and once this morning, to thoughts of plundering her sweet mouth while he drove inside her wet heat and claimed her for himself. He wasn’t proud of that, but he also was more than aware that he was likely to do it again until he could get the poison of wanting her out of his blood.
“I’m notyoursister,” she snapped.
“Trust me, minx, I’m more than aware of that,” he drawled, unable to keep the irony from his voice.
“You have no obligations where I’m concerned,” she countered.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He took her arm in a gentle hold and pulled her to an empty salon. “Believe it or not, I have a conscience, and allowing my friend’s innocent sister to remain at a debauched house party is more than it can allow.”
He became aware of another couple at the far end of the hall. They were arm in arm, caught up in each other, but Rhiannon was hell-bent upon making a scene, and the last thing he wanted was for anyone to guess who she was.
“Damn you, someone is coming,” he muttered. “Get into the room.”
Rhiannon, however, was stubborn.
“I’ve already told you, I’ll go to my brother with what has happened,” she protested. “What do you think he will say when he learns you were kissing his?—”
Aubrey interrupted her by hauling her into his chest. He stopped her babbling the only way he knew how, with his mouth. As he kissed her, he backed her into the room, kicking the doorclosed behind them. She broke away from him at the sound of the thudding portal.
“You overbearing, arrogant, irritating, ridiculous scyrant. Toundrel!” She was spitting mad.
And she was making no sense.
It was actually quite adorable.
“Calm down, minx,” he urged with deliberate sangfroid. “You aren’t even using proper words.”
“Oh! You know what I mean. I was trying to say tyrant and scoundrel at the same time. You have me so furious that I can’t even speak.”
He grinned at her, vastly amused. “And yet, here you are. Speaking.”
She growled. “It’s a figure of speech, you…you…”
“Do go on,” he said. “I’m hoping you create yet another new word. The last two were so deuced entertaining.”
Rhiannon launched herself at him and began pummeling his chest with her fists. It was rather like watching a mouse taunt a lion. He almost took pity on her.
But not quite.
