ALONE IN HER UNCLE’S study perusing his book collection, Miranda saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Philip poked his head around the door, only to dart away. She called out to him.
“Come back.” Silence met her plea. Then finally, he appeared again.
“You’re not disturbing me,” she said, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Were I to be found alone with you in here, we would risk a tongue-lashing, and rightly so. We cannot flout acceptable behavior, especially in your aunt and uncle’s home.”
Acceptable behavior. Those words from his lips made her shiver. She was well aware how extremelyunacceptable he could be, and she longed for another taste.
Sighing, she turned her back to him and returned the book to the shelf.
“And you call yourself a rake,” she muttered, running a finger lightly across the spines.
“What’s that you said?” he asked.
She heard him draw closer, but still, she didn’t face him.
“Why do you do it?” she asked.
“Do what?” he returned.
He was very close now. She could practically feel the heat from him through the back of her cotton dress.
“Pretend to be a riotous man of the Town in public. You actually bask in the infamy of it.”
He laughed, his breath tickling the back of her neck.
“I pretend nothing, you wench. Every man who doesn’t immediately marry the first lady with whom he dances twice and calls upon the following morning is looked at with suspicion. Then when he dances with another lady — especially, God forbid, a waltz — he’s labeled a rake!”
His hand stroked her spine, forging a hot, sensual path between her shoulder blades down to her bottom. She stepped forward before he reached it.
“I think there were a few other naughty actions that sullied your reputation and earned you your brand,” she pointed out. “It was not merely waltzing and disappointing a lady. A few females were discovered left in your wake in a state of deshabille in a garden or while departing a carriage.”
She turned and looked up at him then.
His mouth spread into a wicked grin, making her quiver.
“If you know all that — no doubt gleaned from those blasted hack sheets — then why do you call me a pretender to my hard-earned label?” He lifted a hand and stroked the side of her cheek.
Closing her eyes, Miranda took a deep breath. She wanted to lean into him, slide her fingers into his soft hair, and draw him close.
Maybeshewas the rake!
“I remember you once said you read about people in the gossip columns who were not a part of your world,” he said softly. “They were merely characters in a story. Now we have all become real to you. You must see a rake is merely a man who enjoys the company of women.”
His hand had dropped from her cheek to her waist, his fingers gently kneading her through her layers of clothing.
She could hardly speak with him close, looking down into her eyes, touching her.
Footsteps drove them apart, at least a few inches before her uncle came into view.
“My brother-in-law allows you to stay without your chaperone because he knows we will keep you safe,” he said. And then he stared at them both until Philip nodded and moved farther away.
“Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Miss Bright,” Philip said. “I am going to walk into the village. Would you care to accompany me?”
“If she goes,” her uncle said, “my wife must go as well, or my son and daughter.”
Miranda considered the expedition. While she would enjoy it, she didn’t want to uproot the household simply so she could spend time with Philip.
