Page 60 of Isabel and the Rogue

A bolt of desire threatened to turn him into a human torch. “You’ve let me touch you, Isabel. You’ve let me taste you. What, then, does that make me to you?”

Isabel dipped her head but looked up at him through her thick lashes, and Sirius bit back a groan. She thought she needed help learning the art of seduction? Christ, she could have him on his knees with a slight tilt of her head.

Turning back to the bookshelf, Isabel studied his selection until her hand paused over one volume. Sirius smiled when he saw which book had snared her attention. Slipping the book from the shelf, Isabel held it up.

“Why do you have this?”

Sirius leaned his elbow on an adjacent shelf, his gaze glued to her profile. “Because I appreciate her work.”

Isabel pivoted about, color high in her cheeks as she clutched the book to her chest. “You have the complete works of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz? You’ve never spoken of having an interest in her writings before.”

His gaze dropped to the volume she held so tightly, his jaw rolling as he pondered what to say. He could tell her it was a coincidence, that he had found it in passing. And not that he had asked Mr. Johnson to locate a copy for him, and had waited months for the man’s search to bear fruit. All because of her.

“You mentioned her that summer. At Dancourt Abbey.” Sirius lifted a shoulder. “You spoke of Sor Juana, as you called her, with such respect and admiration, and I suppose I had to know why.”

Her dark eyes widened as they held his. “And…what do you think?”

Sirius shrugged again. “I think she was quite brilliant. It was easy to see why the men of her time were so threatened by her. She eclipsed them in every way.”

Isabel licked her lips as she moved toward him. “Everyone doubted her simply because she was a woman. But she wasn’t content to allow others to define her. Sor Juana knew who she was and what she wanted to do, and although society at the time would not allow her to pursue her passions, she managed to create a life for herself that was fulfilling and memorable.”

She looked down at the book in her hand. “I confess that Gabby reminds me a bit of her. She’s fervent and sharp. She will change the world.”

Sirius’s fingers itched to brush a curl from her brow. “And I was just going to say that Sor Juana reminded me of you.”

“Of me?” Her mouth formed a perfect O.

“Of course. I’m a bit offended that you seem so surprised.” Sirius smiled when Isabel chuckled, but he quickly sobered as he debated whether he wished to steer the conversation down a road she had avoided before. “And now you want to direct that passion toward Lord Westhope.”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “I don’t want to do anything of the sort. Not really. I just don’t know what else to do. When Fernando recommended I ask Gabby for help, it was like a punch to the gut. I know I haven’t found anything yet, but I’m trying. I want to help, and I just know I can do this.”

“I know it, too.” And Sirius did. Isabel was the most determined, focused woman he had ever met.

“Perhaps I should ask my sister.” Isabel huffed a breath. “She’s never met a stranger, you know. Even as a child, Gabby gathered admirers wherever she went.”

“And what of you?” Sirius asked.

Her snort was indelicate. “I’m a stranger even to myself.”

But not to me. The words sat on his tongue, but Sirius didn’t dare utter them. He knew they would chase her away, like a timid fawn. Yet he suspected Isabel saw the claim in his eyes, for she stared at him for a long moment, and spun about, Sor Juana’s works still clutched in her hand.

“So what do you suggest I do?” she asked, sinking onto the settee. “I know the viscount is fond of me, but how do I encourage him to be more…amorous?”

Fighting back the surge of anger that sparked in his chest, Sirius spread his arms. “Be yourself? Darling, you’re desirable all on your own.”

A bashful smile curved her lips. “You’re just being nice.”

“I’m being honest. There’s nothing nice about me.”

“That’s not true.” Isabel shook her head, more wiry strands slipping from her bun to brush against her face. “The Captain Dawson I know has turned his estate into a haven for the men he served with, where they can rebuild their lives surrounded by the beauty of the Devonshire countryside. He selects books to send to the families who live there.” Rising to her feet, she approached until she could grip the loose hem of his untucked shirt. “He befriends a shy wallflower, whom most people ignore, and listens to her chatter on and on about books and science even when it must be very vexing.”

Emotions he refused to identify singed the back of his throat, and Sirius forced them down with a rough swallow. Unable to have her so close without touching her, Sirius dragged his knuckles along her temple. “Vexing is not the word I would use to describe it.”

“What word would you use, then?” she breathed.

“Intoxicating. Mesmerizing. Hypnotic. Are those enough words?” A tear streaked down her cheek, and Sirius brushed it away. Overwhelmed with the urge, the need to kiss her, he cradled her face in his hands. The obsidian pools of her eyes blinked up at him, and Sirius would have done anything for her in that moment.

“Only you think those things of me,” she whispered.