After Dark with a Scoundrel by Alexandra Hawkins

Author:Alexandra Hawkins [Hawkins, Alexandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2011-01-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, Regan was certain that nothing could ruin her buoyant mood. Dressed in a gray bombazine round dress with a white-and-yellow twisted band of satin fabric adorning the bodice, she felt very much the lady of the house.

Seated across from Dare in the morning room, she glanced at her brother’s empty chair and wondered at Frost’s tardiness. Despite the late hours that her brother kept, he was usually the first to come downstairs.

Dare gave her a not-so-subtle nudge under the table. “Stop it.”

Regan swallowed the small portion of poached egg she had been savoring. “Stop what exactly?” she politely inquired.

Although she had been tempted to kiss Dare when she entered the morning room, Regan had resisted such a display in front of the staff. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about it … and about last night.

Dare waited until the footman stepped out of the room before he replied. He gestured vaguely in her direction. “You look like a lady who was thoroughly ravished by her lover.”

Regan looked down at the dress she had selected this morning and frowned. “There is nothing wrong with my attire.”

She quietly conceded that the gray bombazine dress did not suit her coloring or her temperament. However, she had chosen it after much deliberation. It was staid, practical, and respectable. No one, including Frost, would ever guess the wicked things she and Dare had done in the library.

Dare leaned forward so his voice would not carry beyond the table. “I don’t mean your clothes. I am referring to your expression. You look too damn happy, Regan.”

Regan brought her hand up to her mouth in an attempt to smother her laughter. “Too happy,” she reiterated. “Honestly, Dare, that is hardly a criminal offense.”

“Frost is not a fool,” he said sternly. “Your skin gleams like pearls from the Orient, the gold flecks in your blue eyes glimmer like stars, and you move like a lady aware of her body.”

Regan privately acknowledged that she was very aware of certain parts of her body. Dare was a large man, and he left a most delicious impression on a lady.

“Why, that is almost poetic. Have you ever immortalized your passion for a lady with a verse or two?” Regan asked, brightening at the prospect of Dare composing poetry on her behalf.

Dare put down his coffee. “Christ,” he muttered, rubbing his neck as if it pained him.

Regan suspected Dare would snarl at her if she tried to comfort him, so she picked up her fork and resumed eating her breakfast. “Forget about the poetry,” she said magnanimously. “I have the works of Byron, Bowles, and Coleridge to flatter my romantic heart.”

“Stay away from poets, my dear sister,” Frost said as he entered the room with his butler following in his wake. The wrinkled condition of his coat revealed that he was just returning from his evening. “Clever bounders, the lot of them.”

Regan glanced at Dare. With his gaze on the morning paper, he did not seem inclined to offer an opinion on the subject.

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