Sins of a Ruthless Rogue by Randol Anna

Author:Randol, Anna [Randol, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harpercollins
Published: 2013-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Hands swept under her shoulders. Caressed behind Olivia’s knees. “Clayton.” The moan of her own voice jolted her awake.

Clayton loomed above, his face only inches from hers.

She squeaked and jerked away, colliding with a pile of books. She blinked as she put the pieces together. She was still in Clayton’s room. From the pale gray washing over the ceiling, it looked to be early dawn.

Clayton pulled away and straightened, a somewhat pained grimace on his face. “I was about to move you to your room before the maids come to build up the fires.”

The last time she’d looked at the clock it was three. She’d slept on his bed, but then where had he slept?

The slight crease running from his temple to his chin made it appear as if he’d fallen asleep on a book. There was a crumpled blanket nearby where he’d been working.

She felt a pang of guilt. “You should have woken me. I would have given you back your bed.”

Somehow, the fact that he hadn’t yet folded the blanket along neat, precise lines made everything more intimate. That blanket would still be warm from Clayton’s body if she touched it. Or curled up in it.

What would he think if she snatched it up and wrapped it around her? If she breathed deep to capture his scent?

“You were exhausted.” He smoothed back a lock of her hair, his fingers following it around the shell of her ear and down the side of her neck. Her shudder had nothing to do with the cold. He’d removed his jacket at some point during the night, as well as his boots and cravat. But strangely, not his gloves.

“But you must have been freezing on the floor.”

“Once, near Paris, we had to ford a river to escape a French patrol. We ended up taking shelter in an old farmhouse. The French army had already stripped it of anything of use, so Madeline suggested . . .” His words trailed off and a frown darkened his face. “Go to your bed.”

“Did you love her?” The words came out before she could stop them. She could only blame them on her exhaustion and on the strange ease she found in this early morning conversation.

“Madeline?”

Of course, Madeline. The woman who was so beautiful men lined up to spill their secrets in her bed. The woman so incredible she had managed to gain Clayton’s trust despite how badly Olivia had broken him. The woman he was doing all of this to protect.

“Is that La Petit’s name?” She knew as soon as she asked that it was too much. Clayton would freeze up. Accuse her of trying to steal information.

Instead, although he frowned slightly, he nodded.

Air rushed into her lungs. Cleansing. Free.

Strangely, Olivia wasn’t jealous as she awaited his answer, at least not much. She was more . . . curious. Hopeful. She still didn’t fool herself that she had any future with Clayton. There was too much heartache in the past and more still to come between them.

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