It wasn’t her fault for being so…
Leopold dropped his leg, leaned forward, and dangled his hands between his knees, contemplating what he could tell her.
He didn’t do explanations. He rarely apologized. And he’d never lost his head over a woman. When other males in the gangs started mooning over some gel or another, they got careless. They made very bad decisions.
So even when Leopold had found himself attracted, he’d squashed the feeling to the best of his ability. And, although he’d welcomed a few particularly intriguing wenches into his bed, he’d never—ever—let them into his head.
“Why haven’t you tried to kiss me?”
Leopold froze, sure he must have misheard. His gaze jerked up to meet her eyes, and his mouth went dry. She looked back at him, almost defiant.
Why haven’t you…?
What had happened to conversations about the weather?
If other debutantes acted like this one, it was no wonder all those nobs were dicked in the head. Because she was capable of scrambling his thoughts without even trying.
“That’s not my place.” It was an automatic response—something he’d known since he’d laid eyes on her at Winterhope Downs.
“But you said you weren’t a man of honor. You don’t live by society’s rules.”
“But you do,” Leopold countered, and then purposefully added, “my lady.”
She carefully placed her little toad and crochet hook on the table beside her and then, turning back to face him, smoothed her hands over her skirt from the tops of her thighs to her knees. “Not when I’m with you.” Her voice came out low, but not at all tentative. “So you might as well just call me ‘Amelia.’”
He’d ruined her. Not in the way it mattered to theton, but on a much deeper level.
“I may not live by society’s code of honor, but I do have my own rules,” Leopold said. Unfortunately, somewhere between dragging her out of her father’s carriage and cutting her out of her undergarments, his rules had collided with hers.
If she’d belonged in his world, he would, in fact, have kissed her.
If he had belonged in her world…
He also would have kissed her.
And if that wasn’t confusing enough, her next words landed like a hurricane.
“Can’t you break them? Just a little?”
Oh,hell no. This couldn’t go on like this.
He’d done his part, hadn’t he? He’d done his best. Yes, the Rotten Rakes had requested that he protect her from Crossings and his men, but she was in his world now. And he’d never pretended to be anyone but himself.
A bastard orphan who’d done unspeakable things to pull himself and others out of the gutter. He wasn’t one of her dukes or earls or even a bloody baron. No matter how much money he accrued, that would never change. And although some of his own chose to call him King, he would only ever be a king of the lower classes.
Why haven’t you tried to kiss me?
Leopold narrowed his eyes.
“If you want to play this game,” he said, “You’re going to have to break all of yours.”
Her pink little tongue swept out of her mouth, moistening the bow of her upper lip.
“I already have.” She sounded almost breathless, her voice little more than a whisper.
Well then.
“Rule number one,” he said. “You come to me.”
