The Rogue's Seduction Read online

  “Let me go.”

  To her ears, she sounded breathless and vulnerable. “Now,” she said more forcefully when he did not obey.

  A chuckle started deep in his chest, the vibration reaching her through the clothing that separated them. The sound escaping him as a low rumble should have been humorous, but was not.

  “You have run from me these last ten years. You will run no more—until I am through with you.”

  The cool of the late-summer night turned cold.

  “Let the past go and release me.”

  Even as she said the words she hoped against hope that they would not apply to him. Once, he had loved her enough to defy her family to have her. She wanted him to love her still.

  THE ROGUE’S SEDUCTION

  Georgina Devon

  GEORGINA DEVON

  began writing fiction in 1985 and has never looked back. Alongside her prolific writing career, she has led an interesting life. Her father was in the United States Air Force, and after Georgina received her B.A. in social sciences from California State College, she followed her father’s footsteps and joined the USAF. She met her husband, Martin, an A10 fighter pilot, while she was serving as an aircraft maintenance officer. Georgina, her husband and their young daughter now live in Tucson, Arizona.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  ‘Stand and deliver!’

  Lillith, Lady de Lisle, recognized the voice instantly.

  Jason Beaumair, Earl of Perth.

  She did not need to look out the coach’s window to picture him. Dark-visaged, with wings of silver at his temples and hair the colour of jet, he haunted her dreams. A scar, received in a duel over another man’s wife, ran the length of his right cheek. She was—or had been—that wife.

  A shiver of foreboding slid down her spine.

  What was he doing, waylaying her carriage here on Hounslow Heath? He certainly did not need her jewels. He was as wealthy as Golden Ball. ’Twas a dangerous game the Earl played.

  ‘You, Coachman,’ Perth’s imperious baritone ordered, ‘descend with your hands empty and in the air. And you—that’s right, you,’ he added pointedly to the single outrider, ‘drop your pistol or the driver will be sorrier for your actions.’

  Lillith pulled aside the velvet window curtain in time to see her outrider drop his pistol. Perth sat at his leisure on a magnificent horse, a gun in each hand aimed at the coach. Trust the Earl to know horseflesh and not care who else knew the animal he rode was too fine for a highwayman.

  At least the man wore a mask across his face. Should the ton get a whiff of this latest escapade of his involving her, all the old scandals would be revisited. She was not sure her reputation could withstand another assault from the Earl. The only thing that had preserved her good name the last time had been her husband’s social standing. No one had willingly offended de Lisle; the man had known too many people at court.

  However, as a widow, she no longer had her deceased husband’s protection. And goodness knew that if her brother sought to preserve her good name both of them would be laughed out of London.

  ‘You inside the vehicle,’ Perth’s lazy drawl demanded, ‘come out where I can get a better look at what my labours have earned.’

  He was as disreputable as always. It was his greatest fault and his greatest charm. She had thwarted him only once in her life and lived a long time regretting it.

  With a sigh and a tiny smile curving her lips, she pulled her cape tight against the evening air and stepped out. Summer was nearly gone. A chill breeze caught at her silver-blond hair, undoing the intricate curls her maid had spent many hours perfecting. Her slipper-clad feet sank into the damp grass. The fine leather would be stained. No matter. A pair of ruined slippers was nothing. Great wealth was the only benefit she had gained by marrying de Lisle.

  She made a mock curtsy, never taking her gaze from Perth’s arrogant features. He gave her a feral grin, his strong white teeth flashing in the pale light of the full moon. At one time that look on his face had scared her. Now it excited her. She had been a child the first time she had dealt with him, ignorant and easily led by her family. She was a woman now, ready for him.

  His eyes flashed. ‘Come here.’

  She returned his stare without flinching. ‘I think not.’

  Using his knees, he urged his mount forward, stopping only when he was close enough that she could smell the animal’s musky scent. ‘Come here,’ he said again, a hint of iron underlying his words.

  She shook her head. ‘I am on my way home and in no mood for frivolity.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘This is no frivolous matter, madam. I mean what I say.’

  Without a word, he sent a shot at the feet of her coachman who had climbed down from his seat and gone to the heads of the two horses pulling her carriage. The old servant jumped back as dirt sprayed around his boots.

  Anger sent Lillith a step forward. ‘You go too far.’

  ‘I don’t go far enough,’ Perth stated. ‘Come here or the next ball will enter his flesh.’

  Lillith met his hard look with one of her own. ‘You are a rogue, sir, with no scruples.’

  He made her a curt bow from the waist. ‘You always were observant, as well as ambitious.’

  The coolness of his tone set her back up. ‘Be done with this and go your way. I tire of this inappropriate jest.’

  ‘’Tis no jest, Lady de Lisle. I intend to take you prisoner.’

  She gasped. ‘Never. Be gone.’

  The grin that had been feral turned vicious, and Lillith stepped back without intending to do so. ‘What dangerous game do you play now?’ she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  He made no reply.

  Under the protection of her cape, she searched for the tiny pistol with its mother-of-pearl handle that she always kept ready in her reticule. If he intended to threaten her with ruin and goodness knew what else, then she would protect herself. Before she could think rationally about what she intended to do, she pulled the tiny weapon out and shot.

  She missed.

  Furious at her own error, she threw the pistol at him. He merely leaned to one side and let it sail past. A grin of anticipation eased the harshness of his jaw, but did nothing to lessen the look of danger in his eye.

  ‘I shall make it a personal goal to teach you how to shoot,’ he drawled, that infuriating smile still on his face.

  She scowled. ‘You shall not be around me long enough to do so, sirruh.’

  Her outrider used the fracas to make a lunge for the Earl, only to have Perth’s well-trained horse shy away. The animal’s action brought Perth’s attention back to the servants.

  ‘Enough dallying. Call your lackey off, madam, or I shall be forced to harm him,’ Perth said through clenched teeth, the grin gone as though it had never been. His gaze never left her face.

  A flush of irritation mounted Lillith’s cheeks. ‘Move away, Jim.’

  When the servant was distant enough to suit him, Perth said, ‘This is the last time I tell you to come here. The next time I will come to you.’ His voice softened, although it lost none of the threat. ‘And I will guarantee that you will not like it if y
ou make me fetch you.’

  Her tiny weapon was lost somewhere in the grass behind Perth. Her servants were both unarmed. Still, she did not fear Perth. He was a harsh man with a quick temper, but he would never physically hurt her.

  ‘No.’ She notched her chin up and squared her shoulders. ‘If you insist on this folly, then you must fetch me. For I will not come to you, not like this.’

  ‘You always were stubborn,’ he murmured.

  Without warning, he urged the horse forward. Lillith twisted in the damp grass, her foot slipping as she tried to sprint away. He was on her. His right arm swept down and around her waist so that the gun he held bit hard into her side. She took a deep breath to shout at him only to land with a cramping thump, stomach first, in front of him. She sprawled like a sack of grain across his horse’s back, all the air knocked out of her lungs. Through the blood thundering in her ears, she heard her servants shouting and moving about.

  ‘I would not if I were you,’ Perth drawled seconds before shooting a pistol.

  The sound reverberated through her body. If he had truly shot one of her men, she would see to it that the Earl paid.

  She tried to wriggle off, determined to escape even if it meant landing face down in the dirt. A large, masculine hand settled firmly on her posterior, holding her securely in place. Heat spread through her hips until it engulfed her entire body. She might just as well be undressed and he with no gloves on, for it felt as though his bare flesh touched hers.

  She bit her lower lip. Perth had always had this effect on her. Even after she wed de Lisle, she had responded like a wanton to just a glance from Perth. It was her shame.

  De Lisle had called her cold. Thank goodness he had not known the truth.

  As though he knew her worries for her servant, Perth said, ‘Do not worry, madam, I harmed no one. Something which cannot be said for you.’

  The horse lunged forward, scattering her thoughts like clouds before a winter wind. The bones of the animal’s neck dug into her gut and made her feel like retching. This was an abominable situation.

  ‘Release me,’ she said, trying to shout and hearing her voice come out as a squeak.

  ‘In good time,’ Perth said, humour laced through his words.

  Drat the man! He was enjoying this.

  Her hair, having come completely loose from the topknot her maid had worked so long to achieve, hung in thick strands around her cheeks, providing a cushion from the hard smoothness of his boots. The breeze made by the horse’s progress blew up her skirt and chilled her to the bone.

  Determined to make this abduction difficult, she wrapped both hands around Perth’s ankle and pulled. He lurched to the side.

  ‘Careful, madam,’ he thundered. ‘You will unseat us both. Plunging from a galloping horse would not be healthy.’

  In spite of the truth he spoke, she grinned—momentarily. His powerful hand smacked her rear. She was shocked more than hurt. Her cape and dress buffered any hurt and made it more humiliating than painful.

  ‘How dare you, sirruh,’ she said, keeping her grip on his ankle although she no longer pulled. She was becoming foggy-headed from being upside down.

  ‘I dare a great deal,’ he said, his voice a low growl of promise.

  Her stomach felt as though it rushed to her throat. Surely they would soon be far enough away from her carriage and servants for him to stop so that she could change position. Or better yet, escape.

  They came to an abrupt halt, jarring her painfully against the saddle. She released his leg and pushed against the horse’s shoulder in an attempt to slip off on to her feet. Perth stopped her by jumping to the ground ahead of her and hauling her off. She landed with her back moulded against his chest, his arm wrapped around her ribs just below her breasts.

  Her breath caught in a gulp. His nearness was as heady as the finest French champagne, a drink she enjoyed sparingly for that reason. The scent of musk and cinnamon that clung to him was an aphrodisiac, a strong memory of years before.

  Mortification at her weakness made her furious. She twisted, trying to break his hold. Instead of releasing her, he used her momentum to turn her in his arms. Her bosom pressed tightly to his chest. Her loins melded with his. Her face met his. Only inches of cool air separated their lips.

  She shuddered and turned her head away.

  ‘Let me go,’ she whispered. To her ears, she sounded breathless and vulnerable. ‘Now,’ she said more forcefully when he did not immediately obey her.

  A chuckle started deep in his chest, the vibration reaching her through the clothing that separated them. The sound escaped him as a low rumble that should have been humourous but was not.

  ‘You have run from me these last ten years. You will run no more—until I am through with you.’

  The cool of the late summer night turned cold. ‘Have you not learned that revenge is best eaten hot? Yours is cold. Let the past go and release me.’

  Even as she said the words, she hoped against hope that they not apply to him. Once he had loved her enough to defy her family to have her. She wanted him to love her still.

  ‘You always were intelligent as well as beautiful.’

  ‘Revenge it is then,’ she said softly, holding firm to the hard edge of her anger.

  He nodded.

  Revenge. Something inside her crumbled and died. Hope, perhaps. De Lisle had gone to his maker just over a year ago. Since that time, she had hoped against hope that Perth might still want her. And he did. But he did not love her. By kidnapping her, he showed that he intended to ruin her.

  She had to escape him. Before she could think better of it, she stomped on his instep. Her soft leather slipper barely made a dent in his boot, but she took him by surprise. His grip relaxed, and she spun around out of his arms and made a dash for the road they had stopped beside.

  He caught her cape and dragged her back, but she slipped the garment from her shoulders and kept going. Her feet slid in the dirt and she gasped for breath but managed to keep running.

  Seconds later he had her.

  He twirled her around and crushed her to him. One arm wrapped around her waist, the other cupped the back of her head.

  He stared down at her, the pale light of a half-moon glinting off his silver-streaked hair. His features were shadows and angles. She could not see the expression on his face, but there was a tightness to his body that told her more than words.

  Lillith sucked air into her lungs. Her palms pressed against him. ‘Do not,’ she gasped seconds before his mouth took hers.

  His lips were firm and sure against hers. His tongue teased her. His teeth nipped her. Hunger and desire beat at her. Shivers chased by flames chased by more shivers coursed through her body. If he released her, she would sink to the ground.

  When she felt as though there was no more air left in the world for her to breathe, he let her go. She sagged against him.

  The hand that had cupped the back of her head slid to the column of her neck. His fingers glided along her heated flesh and became tangled in the length of her hair. He held her secure.

  ‘I have wanted to do that any time these past ten years,’ he said, his voice a rasp.

  His grip on her hair chained her to him as surely as the love she had always felt. Lillith pulled herself erect, causing his fingers to tighten their hold, and wondered what had happened to her bravado and determination to escape him. It was an effort to focus her mind on what he said. She licked lips that felt branded. Her fingers strayed to their swollen flesh without her conscious volition.

  ‘Ten years is a long time,’ she finally managed.

  ‘I can be a patient man when needs be.’

  Exhaustion came fast on the heels of his words. All her hopes and desires combined to crush her emotions. Her shoulders sagged before she realised it. If only this abduction had not happened. As soon wish for Perth’s love.

  Quickly, defiantly, she straightened to her fullest height. She was tall for a woman, her eyes level with his
chin. ‘Do you call this act that of a patient man?’

  His smile, that devastating slash of teeth, mocked her. ‘I call waiting ten years patient.’

  He leaned into her and brought a strand of hair to his face. ‘Lilac,’ he murmured. ‘I remember the first time I met you, you smelled of sweet lilac. Everyone else wore rose water or lavender, but not you.’

  He let the tress slip through his fingers. The hair slid down her shoulder to curl along her breast where the fine muslin of her evening gown bared her flesh. His gaze followed and sharpened. Desire, hot and hungry, burned in the lines of his face. She saw his reaction and her own body betrayed her. It had always been thus with her.

  ‘I would have forsaken my marriage vows for you,’ she whispered, the words coming from a place in her heart she had thought locked away. They spoke aloud the dream she had cherished through the early months of her marriage to a man who cared nothing for her pleasure in the marriage bed. She had thought them long ago forgotten.

  The fire died in his face. His eyes became chips of ebony ice. ‘I don’t dally with married women. Nor do I share what is mine.’

  Shame at her words and her weakness goaded her. ‘Is that why you fought a duel with my husband, a man many years your senior?’

  His hand, which still gripped her nape, tightened. ‘You were mine and I intended to have you the only way possible.’ Now he shrugged as though sloughing away an unpleasant memory. ‘But de Lisle was better with a sword than I. He kept you.’

  His grip on her loosened and the temptation to squirm was great. She resisted. He was a strong man, and had he intended to let her go he would have released her completely.

  She sighed. ‘So what do you mean to do now?’

  Clouds scudded across the moon, casting his face into darkness. Lillith could not see him clearly enough to read his emotions. She shivered.

  ‘I intend to make up for the past years. My country retreat is a long ride from here. That is where we are going.’