Page 50 of A Relentless Rake

He’d accused her of being a contradiction, yet here he was—six feet of muscular, masculine contradiction of his own, and all of him looked so attractive that her fingers itched to touch him.

There was so much about him she found intriguing and good. She might even be able to like the man if he ever stopped being so…himself.

But right now, he simply confounded the daylights out of her.

“What do you want?” she blurted out, her voice breathless.

He smiled faintly as if he recognized the war raging inside her, then unexpectedly brushed the rose across her cheek. “I thought it was obvious,” he murmured and traced the contours of her cheekbone with the soft bud.

Her heart stuttered. There was no mask between them now, no waltz as an excuse to place her into his arms…nothing to blame for his flirtation and her delight in it except themselves. Unless she stood and fled, she would be culpable in whatever happened next.

Yet fleeing was the last thing she wanted to do.

When the rosebud touched her lips, she forced out, “I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” He trailed the rose down her throat and touched the hollow at its base. Her pulse raced against its delicate petals. “You don’t like me?”

“It isn’t—”

“Or do you like me too much?” He dipped the rose into the valley between her breasts. She gasped but couldn’t bring herself to make him stop. The feeling he stirred inside her was simply too delicious.

“I like…that,” she admitted in a breathless whisper.

“I like it, too.” His husky murmur curled heat through her and melted her insides.

Craving his touch, she clenched her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. She knew the dangers of succumbing to desire. An innocent kiss or caress could lead to so much more, and once begun, it was so hard to stop. She couldn’t let that happen, certainly not with him. No matter how much she wanted to.

He traced the rosebud against the inside swells of her breasts. Each featherlight caress pulsed heat between her thighs. A soft moan rose on her lips, and she closed her eyes against the urge to ask for more.

He circled the flower over her bodice. Despite the layers of clothes, her nipples tightened as if he’d touched her bare flesh. Her breath came fast and shallow, then faster and shallower still when he trailed the bud down the front of her body and across her abdomen.

As he drew languid circles over her tightening stomach, her body throbbed just inches below his hand. She bit her lip in confusion, fearing he would caress lower…fearing he wouldn’t…

The rose slipped from his fingers and fell into her lap. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at it, recognizing it for what it was.

An invitation to surrender.

Trembling from the arousal throbbing inside her, she was afraid to touch it, as if it alone possessed the power to make her fall. Again.

“Alec,” she protested in a whisper, unable to speak any louder. She needed all her strength to simply keep breathing. “You’re an earl who—”

“Who very much wants to kiss you,” he murmured.

A jolt of disappointment pierced the fog of desire engulfing her. Her chest squeezed around her foolish heart as she admitted the frustrating truth behind his attempted seduction. “Only because you want to know secrets about Henry.”

He dropped his gaze to her mouth and caressed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Those secrets aren’t the only ones I want to uncover.”

She shivered at the temptation he dangled before her. He wasn’t being honest with her; she didn’t dare believe him. She knew the lies and charms that men like Alec wielded, just as she knew the consequences. The repercussions she’d suffered before with Samuel would be nothing compared to the way her life could be shattered from only a moment’s weakness with Alec. Society noticed every move he made, every waltz he requested…every stolen kiss beneath a rose bower. If they were found out, his reputation would simply be confirmed, while hers would be destroyed forever. And the school’s right along with it.

Worse—she found herself drawn to him, more than she wanted to admit. Even if they weren’t discovered, how would she survive a second shattering of her heart when he left her?

“Let me kiss you,” he cajoled. His warm breath tickled across her lips with each word.

Her hand rose to his chest, but instead of pushing him away, the traitorous thing fisted his lapel and pulled him closer. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s a grand one.” The dark gleam in his eyes shone like the devil’s own. “Besides, it’s only a kiss.”

It wasn’t. What he offered—what she wanted to claim in return—was so much more.