Page 6 of Cocky August Rake

For the briefest moment, his eyes flared.

Then, saying nothing at all, his fingers closed around hers. And with unmistakable purpose, he led her from the dance floor, through the glittering press of guests, and out onto the terrace.

The music faded behind them.

Beyond the terrace, a narrow path wound through the gardens, shadowed by hedges and silvered by moonlight. He did not slow until the house disappeared behind the trees and they reached a small, sheltered gazebo.

Only then did he release her.

Rose turned to him before caution—or sense—could find her again.

She caught hold of his lapels and pulled him toward her, backing herself against the low stone wall at the edge of the gazebo.

“Easy now.” His hands came to her waist, large and warm through the silk of her gown, but light.

A question, perhaps.

In answer, she tugged him closer.

“Stop thinking and touch me.”

Whatever restraint he had been clinging to cracked.

His mouth came down on hers, careful for only an instant, as though he feared startling her. But Rose opened beneath the kiss, and he made a rough, startled sound against her lips.

“Christ.”

Then he kissed her again.

There was nothing measured about him. He kissed her as though each response surprised him—and made him want another.

His hands remained fixed at her waist at first, gripping the silk as though he did not quite trust them elsewhere.

Rose slid her palms over his shoulders.

The breath left him.

She felt it—the sudden tightening of his entire body, the almost violent effort it took for him to remain still.

“Easy now,” he muttered, though she could not tell which of them he was warning.

And in that moment, she felt an odd sense of relief.

He was not waiting for her to make him want her.

He already did. So fiercely that his hands trembled at her waist and every breath seemed to catch when she leaned nearer.

He was not a client. He was simply… hungry.

For her.

And, astonishingly, it left her free to explore her own needs.

Rose tasted him, hot and fierce and somehow sweeter than she had expected. He kissed her as though he could not decide what he wanted most.

His mouth moved from hers to her jaw, but then stopped, as though uncertain where to go next.

Rose tipped her head, offering him the sensitive skin beneath her ear.