She wobbled at the loss of his support but managed to recover and returned on unsteady legs to her pastries. After a few minutes of working the dough, she thought she had returned to normal but then his voice jarred her out of her rhythm again.
“I declare this the best tea I have ever had. What is in it?” She closed her eyes. Roderick was the most handsome man she had ever met but his voice, almost as much as his proximity, was making her weak in the knees. Think of Reginald, she chanted to herself.
“I never share my recipe. I have three sisters-in-law who have been trying to get it out of me for years.” She tried to roll again but he had stepped up behind her, hands on her hips. Her teeth snapped together. If he didn’t stop touching her, she might lose her mental faculties.
“I must warn you that former rogues have ways of extracting these types of secrets.” His breath tickled the skin of her neck and her insides melted into a puddle. She tried to summon the image of her brother. That was the only defense that would work now.
* * *
Roderick smiled to himself with a great deal of satisfaction. She was affected by him, he was certain. If he could only control his own attraction, he’d be able to win her hand for sure. He knew it was odd that he didn’t want to want the woman he wished to marry. But he’d promised to be a gentleman. Deserving of her hand.
She was breathing in short gasps and she nibbled at her lower lip. He’d like to nibble on her lower lip. He stopped himself. That wouldn’t do at all.
His status as a rogue seemed to bother her but he had answered honestly. In time she would learn that he had meant those words. He was not that man and never would be again.
Holding Delia in his arms all those years ago, had both made him realize what strength meant and how fleeting life could be. He had nearly lost her while he watched his best friend perish. Reginald was the best man he had ever known. Kind, generous, strong, handsome, he had never taken advantage of a woman. He’d respected them, cherished them. Roderick had laughed at him once but Reginald had been unfazed. “I have a sister with golden hair and bright blue eyes. She dances and sings and makes the world a happier place. I give women the respect that men should give to Delia.” Roderick had laughed harder, a little girl? Roderick closed his eyes. If only he could tell his friend that he had been right all along. But he’d never have the chance. She was not a little girl anymore and his initial feelings of protectiveness had been amplified by desire now that she was grown. Though that intense need to keep her safe remained. “That meat concoction smells delightful. May I try it?”
She nibbled harder on her lip but pulled a fresh spoon out and placed a generous amount of the filling on it. No wonder she smelled like confections. He would have to double his training and riding regimen to keep from getting fat if he succeeded in making her his wife. She made to pass him the spoon but he grabbed her hand instead and brought the instrument, now held by both of them, to his mouth. He knew he was being a cad but a rogue’s charm rarely had failed him in the past and it was a tactic he’d apply now.
Taking a bite, the meat was a perfect combination of savory with a touch of sweet and it melted on his tongue. He was going to have to triple his training. He closed his eyes savoring the flavor. “I may have to move cooking up the list.” He exhaled, as he swallowed the final piece.
Her eyes were huge as she looked at his mouth, her own lips softly parted. She was leaning her back against him, her blue grey eyes appearing stormy again. It would be so easy to dip down and steal the smallest kiss. Stone
may well murder him, because he might not be able to stop with just one kiss. And he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t. She was burning every one of his senses until all he could see, taste, touch was her. Besides, Reginald would not have wanted him to. Roderick would restrain himself no matter the temptation.
“I am curious to know what else is on this list.” She was trying to sound scathing, her tone dropping to chastise him. But it came out breathy, giving her away.
“Each time we have an outing, I will tell you another. But for today, I have already shared one.” He had to find a way to gain another meeting. This seemed as good a method as any.
“Outing? My brothers don’t let me have outings. Not anymore, not after…” Her jaw snapped shut and her body pulled away. His hands were still on her waist but she grabbed the rolling pin and began attacking the pastry shell.
Most curious, he thought, but he didn’t pull away. What had he said that had caused her to stiffen so? Had it been her near mention of Reginald’s death? He skimmed his hands up her back and rested them on her shoulders. He began to knead her stiff muscles as she rolled out the dough. Touching her made every muscle tighten. Damn it all to hell.
“What are you doing?” she grated out between her clenched teeth.
He chuckled again, trying to remain casual. She had a little temper. He liked it. That may go sixth or seventh on the list. “You tensed up suddenly. I am trying to relax you again.”
“Then perhaps you should give me some room to work.”
“Does my presence make you tense? How curious.” He chuckled again. This was going even better than he had expected, though her sudden withdrawal was concerning. Like him, she likely still ached at Reginald’s loss. That much was becoming clear.
“Strange men touching me does, in fact, make me nervous. I would think a known rogue would understand women far better.” She went to use her hip to push him away but instead, her bottom came in contact with his member.
Even through her layers of skirts, he could feel the delicious curve of it, its softness. Delia was a woman top to bottom, built for sin. He sucked in his breath and her eyes went wide again as she snapped her head around to look at him, her mouth forming an O. Clenching his teeth together, he went to grab her hips, to remove them from the part of his body they were inflaming but as he grabbed the swell of her generous curves, pulsing desire raced through him. Holy hell, he was in trouble.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and yet, it was her hips that made him lose all sense of reason. He was in danger of breaking his promise to his lost friend. “Delia,” he raggedly gasped out. Up to that point he had control of the situation. He was quickly losing it.
Her eyes had lost all hostility but held their storminess, a hunger with a hint of question now filled them, more expressive than any he had ever encountered. They gave away every emotion and they were the first thing he had ever loved about her. “What is happening,” she whispered. Even as she moved her buttocks against the granite now lodged in his trousers.
He shut his eyes, fighting for control. “Delia, you should know, a man can only take so much of that.”
A small tinkling laugh bubbled from her lips and she moved against him again. “I had assumed. I have seen that look before. I have five, well four, brothers. Usually it precedes one of them carrying off his wife and then nine months later another Alban enters the world. What I don’t know is what happens in between.” Her voice dropped. “Though I must admit, I’m curious to find out.”
His breath exited his body in a giant whoosh. Delia had turned the tables on him. A wild plan to take her right here in kitchen was forming in his addled brain. He was losing sight of his principles at the soft curve of her flesh. But his wild thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the man himself.
“Are you teaching our guest to roll out pasties?” Stone growled out from the doorway.
He had never heard a man who could sound so hard. Fitting with the name, Stone.