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Seducing Her Wicked Rogue

Page 35

by Sadie Bosque

“Yes, it is lovely,” she agreed, then cleared her throat and licked her dry lips.

Ian dipped his hand into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a flask he’d prepared especially for today’s outing.

The day before, in the women’s shelter, Mrs. St. John had seemed to get tired quite soon. And once he’d brought her a drink, she’d immediately livened up. Ian knew that she was sickly. Although he didn’t know the exact nature of her affliction, he now realized that long-term activities perhaps were not easy for her.

And perhaps the silence that followed them was simply a result of her being too tired to talk.

He extended the flask toward her. “Would you like a drink?”

She raised her head and looked at the flask with such surprise, one could imagine he was offering her a snake. She took it, more out of shock than gratitude. “Thank you, but I don’t think I can drink that.” She nudged the flask back to him, but he drew away.

“It’s not alcohol if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It’s not?” She raised her brow, then brought the flask to her nose, as if she would be able to smell alcohol through the closed cap.

He let out a chuckle. Her disbelief was quite understandable. “Believe it or not, I have given up drinking alcohol.” A long time ago.

“You have? Since when?” She swallowed and gave an unapologetic smile. “I am sorry, I did not mean to be rude.”

He chuckled and waved a careless hand. “Oh, no, do not worry about that. I know what people are saying about me. That I am a reprobate and a drunk.” This was the image he’d worked really hard to promote. “But there are moments in one’s life when one has to look back on one’s journey and decide if one should continue on the same path or swerve off it. I suppose that moment has come to me. I looked back at my life, and I don’t think I liked what I saw. And I swerved. Or in this case, gave up hard liquor. This might sound foolish to you,” he added when his confession was greeted with a blank stare.

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, and her expression grew thoughtful. “In fact, I know exactly what you mean. Not about the alcohol, but the rest.”

Ian studied her face. She didn’t just look thoughtful, her expression was almost mournful. “You experienced that same moment?”

She let out a chuckle on a deep exhale. “Well, not the same one.”

She was still rotating the flask in her hands, not daring to take a sip.

“I brought this specifically for you, you know,” he said softly.

She looked from the flask to him and back, her eyes wide. “The flask?”

Ian nodded. “Yesterday, at the women’s shelter, you said that you’re often parched.”

She frowned. Not exactly the reaction he was expecting. “You remembered that. How thoughtful.”

“Well, I have been thinking of you.” He shrugged nonchalantly and before she could say another word, tipped his head toward the flask. “Now, drink it. Don’t hurt my pride.”

She looked back at the flask with a chuckle. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but the reason I can’t drink that is not because I thought it was an alcoholic beverage, although that would be quite unseemly as well. But a lady should not dare drink out of a flask in public.”

He looked around theatrically. “Nobody is going to see you.”

There were people in the park, but most of them were quite a distance away.

She looked at him from beneath her lashes, her voice playful. “You are going to see me.”

Is she flirting with me?

Ian decided to press his advantage. He moved his horse closer, so close that his thigh brushed against her skirt. He then placed his hand on her arm and leaned in close, looking deep into her eyes. He made his voice soft, almost conspiratorial as he said, “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” With a wink, he let go of her and steered his horse to the side, as far as he could on the narrow path they were traveling.

Mrs. St. John laughed and opened the flask.

She looked around, making certain that nobody was watching, then brought the flask to her lips and tipped it back.

Either she was inexperienced in the art of drinking from a flask, or perhaps being on top of a moving horse made her lose her aim, either way, a few drops rolled off her lips and dripped down her chin.

She instinctively caught the liquid with her other hand, as she removed the flask from her lips, laughing.