Claimed by the Rogue by Hope Tarr

Author:Hope Tarr [Tarr, Hope]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2014-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

Feeling safe by Robert’s side, Phoebe exited the market shed in a sort of happy haze the likes of which she’d not known for years. Despite the errand keeping them away longer than she’d planned upon, she couldn’t wish it otherwise. Meeting Mary’s mother had been deeply moving. As it happened, Mistress Fry had missed the last two Saturday afternoons in Russell Square through no fault of her own. The woman who typically minded the oyster stall on Saturdays had quit and Mistress Fry had been forced to take over those shifts in addition to her own. Her unenviable choice had been to miss seeing her daughter or risk losing her employment.

The mission of mercy had turned into something of an adventure. Despite living in London year-round for the last six years, the present was Phoebe’s first excursion to an actual market. Europe’s largest fish market had not disappointed. Once she’d become accustomed to the hubbub, she’d found herself fascinated. The sights, the noise, even the smells were all foreign to her. Not, however, to Robert.

Glancing over at him, not for the first time she marveled on how confident and at ease he seemed here, far more so than in the assembly rooms of Almack’s or even her parents’ small ballroom. Though she’d rather eat…raw oysters than admit it, the ease with which he’d navigated them through the crush, the sense of being utterly cherished and protected by him, was more than a bit thrilling.

And then there was his compassion, which he showered so freely upon all, including Mistress Fry. In hindsight Phoebe saw that, if left to stand, her refusal of the oyster woman’s gift might have been interpreted as snobbery, undoing much of the goodwill sewn during her brief visit. Fortunately Robert had understood—and acted. His swift intervention had saved face and feelings for everyone. She glanced to the tied parcel he carried by its string and wished she’d made more of an effort to overcome her squeamishness.

Swinging the parcel, he turned his rogue’s smile once more upon her. “Oysters are accounted to be an aphrodisiac. Are you certain you won’t try one?”

“Quite.” An aphrodisiac—as if Phoebe was in want of such a thing when Robert was about. Despite the conditions she’d earlier imposed upon their “friendship”, she found herself wishing she might cast caution to the wind—along with Rule Number One.

She wanted to kiss Robert. She wanted it rather badly. The angry embrace they’d shared on his first night back had become a source of near-constant obsession.

Only, wanton creature that he’d made her, she wouldn’t be satisfied with stopping at his mouth. She wanted to touch her lips and teeth and tongue to the whole of his big, lean, beautiful body. Imagining what it might be like to unbutton first his waistcoat and then his shirt and kiss a queue from his muscle-corded throat to washboard-flat belly and beyond had kept her awake for much of the previous night. She could but imagine how beautiful he must be beneath his well tailored if gaudily colored garments.

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