Page 77 of Cocky August Rake

Each moment spent in his company felt like something she had no right to take.

He looked at her, listened to her, treated her…

As though she were simply Rose.

And all the while, she was working her way into his affections quite deliberately.

For her family at The Domus.

She did not ask why that excuse was beginning to feel so thin.

Rose swallowed hard, and forced herself to look up at the ceiling, where the painted mythological god Mars lounged above them. The chiseled god wore a gleaming helmet and armor, as he stood prepared for battle. He looked very determined.

The depiction had her imagining Reginald as he must have looked when he’d gone into the sea after one of his men—soaked, stripped of his coat, and driven by nothing but strength and purpose.

“Mars looks rather powerful for a mere god,” she said.

Reginald followed her gaze, though his arm remained around her shoulders. “Thornhill was generous, wasn’t he?”

Rose felt the words as much as heard them, standing so close against his side.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then a small party entered the hall, their footsteps carrying across the stone floor, and Reginald let his arm fall away.

They moved on.

By the time they had finished their tour and stepped outside, the rain still had not begun. The wind had picked up though, tugging at Rose’s skirts and sending leaves skittering across the path.

“The carriage is meeting us beyond the park,” Reginald said.

They made it halfway across the lawn when the storm broke. Rain came down in a single hard sheet. The wind caught Rose’s bonnet and nearly tore it free.

Reginald seized her hand.

“Run!”

They did.

By the time they reached the carriage, both of them were drenched. Reginald wrenched open the door, caught Rose by the hand, and helped her inside before climbing in after her.

They tumbled onto the seat together, breathless, droplets from their clothing soaking the floor. Rain drummed against the roof, loud and steady, but inside the air felt quiet, filled with the scents of damp and leather and… Reginald.

Water streamed from his dark hair, tracing the hard line of his cheek before slipping beneath his collar.

For those few seconds, nothing existed but the two of them.

But then the carriage lurched into motion, causing Rose to nearly tumble off the seat and she…

Laughed. Nervously at first, but then loud and bright.

A heartbeat later, Reginald joined her.

“Well,” Rose said, breathless. “That was poorly timed.”

Reginald was removing his dripping coat. “Two minutes earlier and we would have missed it.”

“My fault for lingering beneath Mars.”