The Love of a Rogue (The Heart of a Duke #3)(10)

Imogen’s cheeks flooded with heat.

Lord Alex gave a mock shudder. “Egads, that will be a dark day, indeed, when young ladies decide to turn their attentions upon the lesser second sons.” He winked. “After all, avoiding the parson’s trap is the sole benefit of being that lesser, second son.” Even with the crooked grin, the hard twist of his lips spoke of a cynical rogue who avoided any hint of respectable misses.

“Oh, hush, Alex. Why, someday you shall fall in love and I will quite gleefully remind you of what a foul fiend you were,” his sister said giving him a slight shove. “Isn’t that right, Imogen?”

A rake with his chiseled cheeks and noble jaw likely had any number of women falling in love with him on any given day. She shifted. “Your brother has the right of it,” she said softly. Another tug pulled at her heart; a wish for more.

He trained his stare on her once again, in that bold, assessing way.

Did he expect she’d look away? She met his gaze squarely. She’d been the subservient, deferential, young lady once before. Never again. Imogen angled her chin up.



Alex made to take a sip of his brandy and then froze, the glass midway to his lips. Imogen met his gaze with a boldness he’d not expected of a miss of nineteen, twenty years? The blues of her eyes may as well have been a mirror to his own dark cynicism on the sentiments of love and yet, he glimpsed past that, to the emotion in the sapphire depths. He didn’t make it a habit of noticing anything where a young, unwed lady was concerned. With a silent curse, he tossed back a long swallow, grimacing at the trail it blazed down his throat. The chit had the widest eyes and the most generous mouth, full lips made for sin, and…

He choked on his brandy. For the love of God, what madness possessed him that he’d do something as insensible as lusting after Lady Imogen Moore?

“Oh, dear,” Chloe exclaimed, a suspicious glint in her eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he gritted out. With her temerity in all matters over the years, he knew she’d not be content with that succinct utterance.

She leaned forward and squinted. “I do say, your face is all flushed. Do you notice, Imogen?” Chloe poked him in the cheek and he swatted her hand away.

Imogen’s lips twitched and the lady’s unfiltered amusement softened her face. All thought fled as he was sucked in by the smile on her full lips. She tipped her head and made a show of studying him. Only, if she truly studied him, she’d see the havoc she now wrought on his senses. “I daresay your brother will be just fine,” she assured his sister, not appearing the slightest bit concerned with whether he did, in fact, end up just fine.

And here he’d been mooning over her and—he shuddered—her innocent smile? Madness, indeed. He bristled, unaccustomed to being so dismissed by a lady. Why ladies young and old clamored for his notice; for reasons that had nothing to do with a title and everything to do with the reputation he’d earned behind chamber doors. With a frown, he finished the remainder of his drink, deliberately ignoring the two vexing misses.

Except Imogen touched a finger against the tip of her lower lip, drawing his attention once more to the lush mouth…

And he choked on his swallow.

She creased her brow. “Oh, dear perhaps there is, in fact, something wrong.” Though the light twinkle in her eyes indicated the lady was having a good deal of fun at his expense.

Which young ladies assuredly did not do. They had fun with him, in ways that would make this teasing vixen’s cheeks burn with shocked outrage and certainly not in any way that was respectable.

“I assure you, I’m indeed fine,” he drawled. Alex set his glass down. He really should leave. Instead, he wandered around to the back of the sofa. He glanced down at the piles of scandal sheets scattered about the floor and toed the copies. They really had amassed quite the collection. “I daresay I’d expect you’d be so thorough as to have The Tons Tattler in your pile,” he said dryly.

Chloe gasped. “How could I have failed to procure a copy?” She sprinted toward the door.

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

“To have one of the footman secure a copy,” she shot back without breaking her stride.

He gave his head a rueful shake and looked down once more. His lips twitched and when he picked his head up, Imogen’s cheeks were red like a summer berry. Which only roused delicious images of the young lady upon satin sheets while he dipped berries in champagne and…With a silent curse he kicked at the untidy stack. “Quite a bit of reading you ladies are doing.”

She smiled. “Your sister’s idea.”

Once more he admired Imogen’s generous smile, noting the faintest dimple in her right cheek which transformed her from something ordinary into someone really quite…extraordinary. “If it is my sister’s idea, it is assuredly a bad one,” he said at last and wandered over to fetch his bottle of brandy and empty glass. Imogen stared and smiled with a woman’s cheek and yet blushed like a young girl just from the schoolroom.

If he was noticing Lady Imogen’s smile, he needed a drink. He filled his glass.

“Do you make it a habit of drinking at this early hour?”

He’d have to be deaf to fail to hear the trace of disapproval in that question. “Yes.” He took a long sip.

She pursed her lips. “Do you also make it a habit of drinking spirits in front of unwed, young ladies?”