Page 90 of Cocky August Rake

Hope again.

Sharp enough to wound.

Mr. Bell said something from just outside, and Reginald answered before closing the door.

For the first time in weeks, they had the privacy they’d not dared allow themselves for nearly a month.

The quiet was charged. Thick. Much like the air right before a violent thunderstorm.

Rose could hear the soft creak of timber around them. The muted lap of water against the hull. Her own heart beating far too quickly.

His eyes met hers. “There is no urgent message from The Domus,” he said.

It was not a question.

Rose clasped her hands before her. “No.”

But before she could begin, his expression changed. As though something broke open inside of him.

“You came.”

There was… happiness in his voice.

“Reginald—”

“You came to me.”

He believed she had chosen him.

Rose saw it in his eyes. In the sudden ease of his shoulders. In the wonder of his smile.

Tell him. Tell him now.

She opened her mouth.

But then he was before her, his hand rising to cradle her face.

“Rose.”

He kissed her softly at first, and Rose, God help her, could only resist for a few seconds before she melted.

The deck seemed to dip beneath her feet and she had no idea if it was the river or having his mouth on hers.

It didn’t matter.

There was nothing cautious in this kiss. None of the careful restraint he’d shown ever since that first night at The Domus.

Reginald gathered her against him, and Rose clutched at his waistcoat, kissing him with every desperate thing she couldn’t say.

Her fingers found the buttons of his waistcoat, tugging.

He wanted her.

Rose wanted him.

Her mouth opened beneath his, and he kissed her with a hunger that felt almost desperate, as though stopping might somehow make her disappear.

Rose pushed his coat from his shoulders. Then she freed his shirt from his breeches.