The Redemption of a Rogue (Dark Regency Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

smiled, “Yes, I am a housebreaker, amongst other things, but I am not a thief.”
    “What other reason does one have to break into a house?” she demanded skeptically.
    “Midnight trysts,” he replied. It was not an entirely truthful response, but it was a safe one.
    The lock sprang with a quiet snick, and he opened the doors, ushering her inside. He crossed to the other entrance and made sure that the door was securely locked before turning to the more immediate need for warmth.
    He made quick work of a laying a fire in the hearth, before turning to study her. It was a dangerous thing that every time he looked at her; she appeared lovelier than the last. “The next time you feel the need to hide on your balcony, please have the foresight to dress more warmly.”
    She gave him a baleful stare. “Thank you for your assistance.”
    Miss Barrows was a bit on the prickly side, but he rather liked that about her. He didn’t have to question whether or not she meant what she said.  “Do I not get a boon, fair Juliet, for coming to your assistance?”
    “What sort of boon?” she asked and her expression was suitably dubious.
    Her suspicions, he admitted, were well founded. He was quite tempted to breach the last defenses of propriety. But he would not. Instead, he made a more innocent request. “It’s simple enough. I wish to see your hair unbound.”
    “That’s all?”
    His request had obviously confused her. In that, she wasn’t alone. “That’s all I will ask, but if you wish to offer more, I would be only too happy to accept.”
    Abbi was confounded by him. He was reputed to be the worst sort of libertine, and yet she sat in a room with him, unchaperoned, and the only touches that had passed between them had been completely chaste. Still, he was too charming by far, and she had little trust for charming men. With another baleful stare, she reached for the ribbon that bound the thick braid. Her fingers were still stiff from the cold, and horribly abused from her climb. She fumbled with the ribbon, not quite able to manage the simple task.
    “Allow me,” he said, his large hands covering hers.
    Abbi shivered as his callused fingers brushed the delicate skin of the backs of her hands. He did not have the hands of a nobleman. They were rough; the skin darkened by the sun. He was a study in contradictions, and every last one of them left her unsettled.
    She marveled at the gentleness of his fingers as he deftly untied the ribbons and combed his fingers through her hair. She’d heard the compliments, of course. She knew that her hair was her best feature, and that was why she typically kept it pulled back so tightly. The dark strands settled over her shoulders, falling to her waist in thick waves. She could tell from the dark light in his eyes that he was enjoying the site of her. It warmed her far more than the fire.
    He clasped a lock of her hair, the strands winding about and between his fingers as he tested the silken texture. “It is a crime to hide such beauty.”
    The timber of his voice had changed, becoming deeper and with an added note that she could not fully identify. But she responded to it immediately. Her pulse quickened, and there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. The man was a menace; she thought. Was it any wonder that he was renowned for being a seducer of women?
    “You must go,” she said. Her voice was free of censure but infused with panic. He unsettled her, and there was no point in trying to hide it. She could clearly see from the expression on his handsome face that he was well aware of her panic, and it seemed he shared some bit of it, as well. There was no protest from him. He stepped back, letting go of her hair with apparent reluctance.
    “Of course. Thank you for a diverting evening, Juliet.”
    “Abigail,” she corrected.
    He chuckled, opening the door, “A rose by any other name, my dear.” Before he could walk out, a scream split the night.

 
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