That Despicable Rogue Read online

  In a way, she was glad that she did not have to face Ross just yet. She was bitterly disappointed in him, and in herself for letting her guard down. A man who would betray his own father was capable of anything—and she would do well to remember that fact. He was no better than her idiot brother in that regard. Both of them prepared to betray their own kin.

  She had not slept after she had finally gone to bed. Her mind had been swirling with so many contradicting thoughts that she had not known quite what to make of it all. In the end, it all boiled down to one simple truth. Ross could be kind, thoughtful and charming when it suited him—and hard, cold and manipulative when he needed to be. He was not a man she could entrust her heart to.

  The very fact that she almost had... Well, frankly that made her livid. She should have trusted her instincts. She had known he had a talent for charming people for his own gain and yet had still allowed it to happen to her. She had to give him credit for being persuasive. He had known exactly what to say to weaken her resistance—and like an idiot she had fallen into his honeyed trap.

  You have lost your confidence. Open yourself up to possibilities. You are a beautiful and desirable woman. Who will put flowers on your grave?

  Ugh! Just thinking about it made her realise how contrived it had all been. And she had almost succumbed. Silly, stupid, needy fool that she was.

  A stray letter had slipped inside the pile of bills that she was going through and she snatched it up in annoyance. They had finished all the correspondence days ago. With an air of frustrated resignation she opened it, to see if it was worth keeping or one of Reggie’s ‘specials’—the name as she had come to use for all the rubbish. Why Ross had entrusted all his filing to an illiterate man she had long since ceased to find amusing.

  To begin with it appeared to be a brief thank-you letter, but something made her look at it twice.

  It was her brother’s name.

  Automatically she slipped the letter into the pocket of her apron. It was probably a coincidence, but it would not hurt to read it later.

  When Carstairs toddled off in search of tea she finally had her chance. The letter had come from their old family solicitor. She remembered Mr Compton-Lewis as being a humourless and forthright man who had visited Barchester Hall occasionally when she had been growing up. Once her father had died she had not seen him again, but she had received correspondence from him after her brother’s death. George had left everything in such a muddle that the solicitor had struggled to unravel it all.

  The last time she had heard from him had been several months ago, when he had informed her of the unexpected five thousand pounds. He’d told her he had placed the bequest in a London bank, on her behalf, and had wished her well now that her brother’s estate was finally settled.

  She had assumed the solicitor had transferred funds from the trust set up by her father. It was the one and only thing that she was truly grateful to her father for. He had kept that safe from George, at least.

  This missive was brief.

  Dear Mr Jameson,

  Thank you for your recent and very generous offer to my clients. Unfortunately I must decline it on their behalf. The remaining family of the late Earl of Runcorn are not in a financial position to take over the enormous burden of Barchester Hall at present, nor are they likely to be in the foreseeable future. As I am sure you are aware, such a great house requires significant investment and good stewardship.

  The three Steers spinsters are quite content to stay in Yorkshire, and are not up to the enormous task that such a benevolent bequest would require.

  Yours sincerely

  G.J. Compton-Lewis Esquire

  The dreadful words made her feel light-headed. Captain Carstairs had been telling the truth. Ross had offered the house back to the family but their solicitor had taken it upon himself to keep that pertinent fact from her. Why would he do that?

  Hannah should have felt anger, and she supposed that would come soon enough, but instead all she could think about was her own shame. All this time she had been so convinced that her family had been wronged—and they had. But not by the person she had originally thought.

  She had been so quick to see the worst in Ross again last night. He was not a thief. Nor even a particularly ruthless opportunist, if this letter was to be believed. In the eyes of the law he was the legal owner of Barchester hall, and yet it now appeared he had been quite happy to give it away after all, because it was the right thing to do.

  Why was she always so quick to blame him for her predicament?

  Ross was not malicious or cruel. In actual fact she knew in her heart that he was not capable of being either of those things, and bitterly regretted thinking the very worst. Again. There had to be a good reason why he had betrayed his own father. She owed him an apology. And the truth.

  * * *

  Ross had taken the ledger up to his bedchamber because he wanted to be able to work on it undisturbed. That was the lie he was trying desperately to believe. The truth was even more pathetic. He could not face Prim when he was this upset. He needed time to harden his heart and hide his wounded feelings before he faced the woman again.

  With any luck Carstairs would miraculously catch her in some form of espionage and throw her out unceremoniously on her dimpled arse, and then he would never have to face her again. That thought made the little ache close to his heart throb again, and he rubbed it in irritation.

  As if he had conjured her, Prim burst through his bedroom door and stared at him dolefully with her blasted big blue eyes.

  ‘What do you want?’ he said harshly, and then remembered his pride and pretended to work on the ledger.

  ‘I know that you have refused to see me but I have to apologise,’ she whispered. ‘I am so very sorry for the way I behaved towards you. It was unforgivable.’

  Ross scratched a total in one of the columns and forced his features to appear neutral. ‘I have come to expect it from you, Prim. You are a constant source of disappointment to me.’

  She recoiled as if he had slapped her, and fat tears gathered in her limpid eyes. ‘You are right.’ She sounded completely despondent. ‘Would you like me to leave?’

  ‘No!’ That blasted ache spread under his ribs and filled his chest with pain. ‘I should like you to stay. At least until the renovations are complete. That is the one thing you are good for.’ He hated the fact that he was being spiteful and looked back down at his numbers. ‘If that is all, then we are done.’

  She stood rooted to the spot for a moment, then turned and quietly closed his bedroom door behind her.

  Hannah stumbled down the stairs blindly. She deserved that, she knew. He had every right to be angry at her. Every right to dislike her.

  When she got to the bottom she collided with Captain Carstairs. He took one look at her and his eyes widened in alarm.

  ‘Are you quite all right, Miss Preston?’

  ‘Oh, Captain Carstairs,’ she wailed, ‘I have been such an idiot!’ Then she promptly burst into tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was Reggie who next interrupted him. He shuffled into Ross’s bedchamber as the afternoon sun was at its hottest and then slumped heavily onto the bed.

  ‘Well, I hope you are proud of yourself. Poor Prim has been crying for hours.’

  Ross tried to suppress the pang of guilt that came at this announcement and shrugged as if he did not care. ‘She only has herself to blame. How dare she stand in judgement of me when she knows nothing about it?’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ the big oaf said reasonably. ‘You could have explained yourself but you didn’t. You never do. Look at it from her point of view. One minute she thinks you’re her prince and the next she thinks you killed your dad. Me and the Captain want to know why you didn’t tell her what a bastard he was.’

  ‘Because she didn’t ask,’ he replied with a touch of belligerence.

  She had. Eventually. But by then he’d been riled and wounded and angry, and h
ad felt foolish for offering her his heart, so he had lashed out in his customary fashion.

  Reggie had the nerve to look at him if he was stupid. ‘The Captain thinks you didn’t tell her because you were frightened she’d disapprove. You have to tell her. Sometimes women like to be confided in.’

  He nodded sagely after his final point, to make sure that Ross understood it was important. The fact that Reggie had given so much consideration to it made him feel even worse.

  Ross stood up and began to pace in exasperation. ‘She’ll get over it. And then everything will be back to normal.’ But would he get over it? Right now he sincerely doubted it.

  Reggie rolled his eyes and stared down through the mess that had once been his nose. ‘She won’t get over it, Ross. You’ve really hurt her feelings.’

  ‘And she’s hurt mine!’ His irritation grew when he saw Reggie smile knowingly, as if he understood better than Ross did.

  ‘That’s precisely the point—I ain’t never known you to be so upset by a girl. Me and the Captain both think you’ve got a soft spot for her. Go and find her and make it up.’

  ‘I most certainly do not have a soft spot for her.’ Yes, he did. He could not stop thinking about her. He wanted to kiss her more than strangle her, at least. ‘What did you mean when you said she thought I was her prince?’

  It was a sad state of affairs that now he was actively seeking Reggie’s romantic advice, but he was just a tiny bit curious.

  ‘To hear her speak, you’re a bleeding saint. ’Course, I couldn’t make out the half of what she was saying, on account of all the grizzling, but that was the gist. That girl has strong feelings for you.’

  ‘Did she cry a lot?’ Ross was feeling more miserable by the second. He had been uncharacteristically cruel.

  ‘If you call hours and hours a lot. Even Cook couldn’t get her to stop. She just kept saying that it was best if she left Barchester Hall for good.’

  Now Ross felt truly wretched. She had asked him why he had done it and he had clammed up and sulked. He had behaved like a lion with a thorn in its paw. When she had tried to apologise he had called her a disappointment. He had been a cad.

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘No idea. She said she was going for a walk to think about things. We haven’t seen her since.’

  Ross had a pretty good idea where he might find her, though.

  Twenty minutes later his suspicions were confirmed. Prim was floating on her back, eyes closed, as naked as the day she was born. The sight of her made his groin harden and his blood heat.

  Before he could think better of it, Ross skirted around to the opposite side of the pond and stripped off his clothes. What better way was there to make things up than this? She was sorry. He was sorry. They didn’t need to waste time talking about it. He had a strange desire to hold her in his arms.

  ‘Hello, Prim.’

  The sound of his voice startled her and she sank under the water with flailing arms. When she spluttered, coughing, back to the surface he was swimming towards her with a wicked glint in his eyes.

  ‘Don’t come any further,’ she shrieked, while simultaneously trying to cover her naked body with her hands and trying to stand. Unfortunately the water in the centre of the pond was a few inches too deep, and she was forced to tread water one-handed instead.

  ‘Why ever not?’ he said innocently. ‘Don’t tell me you are naked under there?’

  Like an otter, he suddenly dived under the water to have a look, and when he surfaced close by he was grinning.

  ‘You are naked! I am scandalised. Too shocked for words. Guess what?’ he whispered as he stealthily came towards her. ‘So am I.’

  Hannah tried her best to swim out of his reach, but with one hand clutching her bare breasts staying vertical in the water proved to be quite difficult. ‘Ross—please,’ she pleaded. ‘Stay back. This is not... Oh...!’

  Her voice trailed off as his arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tight against him. His skin was warm and slick against hers.

  ‘You were going to say not proper, weren’t you? You are absolutely right, Prim. This is not the least bit proper.’

  His face was creeping closer to hers and she was forced to brace one hand on his shoulder or drown.

  ‘Are you going to move that arm?’

  He stared pointedly at the arm in question. It was sandwiched between them, still covering her bosom. Hannah blinked in shock.

  ‘I see that I must resort to more dastardly means.’

  With one hand still wrapped around her waist, he used his free palm on the back of her head to pull her mouth onto his. Like an idiot, she let him.

  The kiss he bestowed upon her was achingly gentle. His lips slanted slowly over hers until her own began to respond. Little by little her resolve melted, until she finally succumbed fully to it. Goodness, the man could kiss, she thought fleetingly, before he tangled his clever tongue with hers. Hannah could do little more than cling one-armed onto his strong shoulder as she floated, helplessly suspended, next to him.

  He pulled her hips flush against his own and she felt the hard length of him press into her abdomen. Did this mean that he had forgiven her? She closed her eyes and tried not to hope. The man confused her so very much. One minute he was generous and noble, and the next he could coldly hand his father over to the authorities and seemingly not feel guilty for it. But the more she knew him, the less likely it seemed that he could be that cruel and callous. Should she trust her instincts?

  As if he’d read her mind, he kissed her softly. ‘My father was not a nice man. I will explain myself. But please don’t make me do it here. Kiss me, Prim.’

  Hannah saw the truth in his eyes and did as he asked. She arched against him and he groaned. Emboldened by his obvious desire, she finally relinquished her hold on her modesty and wove her fingers into his slick wet hair, matching the movements of his teeth and tongue urgently. For long moments they clung together like that, until both wanted more. He wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her so that her breasts came clear of the water and were level with his face.

  Initially Hannah felt exposed, and embarrassed to be so intimately displayed, but then she saw the admiration reflected in his eyes and felt his hardness jut against her insistently. When his hungry lips finally sought her puckered nipple and drew it into his mouth she cried out and undulated her hips against his urgently. Her body wanted him inside her.

  ‘Please...’ she heard herself moan. ‘Please, Ross.’

  He tortured her other breast first, worshipping the hard tip with his tongue until she made a guttural sound that she had never made before, and reached between their bodies to touch him intimately.

  Now it was his turn to growl in pleasure. With her legs still wrapped around his waist he began to carry her out of the water, kissing her neck, face, breasts—anything he could reach. Only when they were safely upon the bank did he carefully lower her body to the ground.

  He knelt beside her and allowed his eyes to slowly take in everything. ‘You are beautiful,’ he whispered in wonder, and she believed him.

  ‘So are you.’

  It was the truth. Naked, he was magnificent. The dark hair on his chest clung wetly to his muscles and wove its way over his flat abdomen, stopping at the base of his large and rigid manhood.

  Shame flooded her again and she thought she would cry. ‘I am sorry—I feel wretched about my behaviour last night.’

  One side of his mouth turned up in a smile. ‘We were both in the wrong. I should have explained, but I have got into the habit of never explaining. Let’s not talk about it now.’

  Hannah sighed at the sight of the raw emotion shimmering in his eyes. It was more than desire. She held her arms open shyly and he gratefully fell into them. Once again when their mouths met they forgot about everything except the moment they were in and the sensations they were eliciting from each other.

  His hand cupped her breast and his thumb brushed over her nipp
le until she thought she would die from the pleasure. He eased back a little so that he could stare down into her face, watching her as his fingers brushed over her ribcage and her tummy and then slowly drifted into the soft, downy hair at the top of her thighs, then lower still. He carefully parted her flesh, touching her in a place that had never been touched before, and watched her shudder. Over and over he circled that sensitive spot until she could stand it no more.

  ‘Please, Ross...’ Hannah had no idea what she was asking for, and did not care that her legs had fallen open, allowing him to see her most private place. She wanted him to touch it. Her hips rose impatiently into his hand until eventually he positioned his body there, poised to push inside. Her breath caught and he saw her nervous swallow.

  ‘Am I your first?’ he asked, suddenly concerned, and she nodded. His eyes closed briefly. When they opened he was smiling. ‘Good,’ was all he said, and slowly pushed inside.

  Inch by glorious inch his hardness filled her. It felt a little alien at first, but the moment he started to move Hannah felt the discomfort ease as pleasure built. She allowed her palms to roam freely over his back and buttocks, revelling in the solid weight of him on top of her. Once again she wrapped her legs around his waist at his encouragement, and he moved her hips to meet his thrusts until her body picked up the rhythm. By then conscious thought had gone, and all she could think of was where their bodies joined and how wonderful it felt to have him sliding in and out of her.

  His eyes were locked on hers. She saw affection, tenderness, desire and wonder in their depths.

  Even when she shattered and her muscles clenched around him it felt natural. It was as if she had been created to be joined with this remarkable, beautiful and complex man. A few seconds later his own climax rocked through him and she revelled in the beautiful moment when he finally collapsed upon her—fully spent. Their hearts beat together furiously against their ribs until eventually he withdrew from her body and pulled her wordlessly into his arms.

  She curled against him instinctively, contented, until she happily drifted off to dreamless sleep.