Too Hot For A Rake Read Online Free Page B

scent of your perfume. Verbena, isn’t it? We meet again, it seems.”
    He yanked her to her feet so hard, she was forced to put her hands on his chest to keep from falling again. Instead of letting go, he let his arms drift to her waist, but she knocked them away. “I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself, my lord. And stop sniffing my hair.”
    He put up his hands as if in surrender and backed away. “I meant no harm, but the odor is enticing, I confess.”
    She brushed off the leaves that clung to her clothing, pulled her tucked gown out from her pantalets and smoothed her skirt as best she could.
    He picked a twig out of her hair and breathed in. “Sorry, ma’am. Your scent drives me to distraction.”
    “Stop that. Apparently, you are in the habit of seducing young ladies, sir.”
    Waverley swallowed a laugh. “Am I? In that case, perhaps I ought to live up to my…reputation.”
    “Take your hands off me, you rake! How ungentlemanly of you.”
    “How unladylike of you, ma’am, to have woken me in such a manner and with such feeling a mere few hours ago. You find me here because it was not possible to go back to sleep. Do you make a habit of climbing in and out of windows at the most unseemly hours?”
    Helena wavered. “If you must know, I have…urgent business elsewhere. And there is no need to wake the whole household.”
    He was pleased to see a blush spread across her cheeks. The damp air had caused her hair to stick to her face and his fingers itched to push the strands away from her cheek. “The same business that brought you to my bed earlier?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s none of your—it’s a personal matter.” She hoisted her portmanteau and turned to leave.
    “Ah, a sick aunt, perhaps? How are you planning to get where you need to go to conduct this urgent business? Walk?” Her face had the look of an adorable child caught in a fib.
    Helena ignored this remark and glanced both ways at the deserted street. “Where do you suppose one finds a hackney for hire?”
    “Perhaps at the end of this row of town houses. But I can’t allow my host’s er… neighbor to seek a hackney without protection. London is far too dangerous a place for an unaccompanied gentlewoman. Allow me.” Waverley offered his arm.
    “No! I…I mean, thank you for offering to assist me, but I can manage very well on my own.”
    He raised one finger and tilted his head. “Or I could throw you over my shoulder, carry you to your door, ring the bell and return you to your family where you belong.” He regretted his teasing words the moment they left his lips, for she turned pale.
    “I was only quizzing you, ma’am. I promise you I’ll do no such thing. Come,” he added in a gentler voice, offering his arm for the second time. “Won’t you honor my er…gentlemanly good intentions? We shall search for a hackney together.”
    She hesitated but finally rested her hand on his arm. He took charge of her portmanteau and led her down the street where he thought he might find a hackney for hire.
    Persuaded that he meant her no harm, she relaxed and sought refuge in small talk. “You don’t live in London, do you? If you did, I would have met you on more than one occasion, I’m sure.”
    “No, I don’t. I was born in England, but I haven’t lived here for years. I’ve lived in Paris since the end of the war. That’s where Darlington found me. I’m to succeed to my father’s title, you see. The ceremony will take place at Carlton House tomorrow morning.”
    “Accept my good wishes, then.”
    “Ah, here comes a hack. Let us hope there is no one in it and he is for hire.” He raised his hand to hail the driver.
    The carriage came to a stop in front of them. Waverley looked up and spoke to the driver. “Please take my lady to…where shall I tell him to take you?”
    “It’s…I’ll tell him when we’re under way.”
    He gave an indifferent shrug. “Suit yourself.”
    “Thank you, Lord Waverley,