Page 8 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

She stilled, breathing hard, her only movement the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“Odette?”

She looked back at him, her eyes too bright as her lip trembled.

“I don’t think so, Charlie,” she whispered, and a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

Chance watched in agony as she put her head in her hands and sobbed.

“Odette…. Oh, don’t… don’t cry,” he said helplessly.

He did not know what to do and dithered until he could bear it no longer. He moved to sit beside her and put his arm about her, shocked when she turned towards him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he gave her a handkerchief to dry her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding wretched. “I know men hate it when women cry.”

“Only because we don’t know what to do,” he said. “I want to make you feel better, but I don’t know how.”

She shook her head. “You’ve been very kind already, to teach me these games and entertain me, but it is getting dark again and now I shall have been missing for three nights. Do you really think no one will know this?”

Chance didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. She was obviously from a good family, a family who would have servants. No matter how loyal, servants talked, and word would get out.

“It’s all right,” she said, wiping her eyes and looking up at him with a tremulous smile that made his chest hurt. “My life has been so very dull until now. At least I am having an adventure and… and now I am ruined, I am free to do what I like.”

Chance wished he could smile and laugh with her, and talk to her about all the adventures she might have, but all he could think of were the dangers she faced.

“You must go back to your uncle, Odette,” he said, his voice firm. “I know you don’t want to, but you cannot do otherwise.”

She nodded, sniffing. “I know, but he will be very angry with me. I have been very stupid and wilful, and all the bad things he has always said about me are true after all. He has always said I am too much like my mother. She was wild, always causing trouble, and now, I too….”

Her voice quavered and Chance pulled her closer.

“No,” he said fiercely. “I won’t let him speak to you like that. I won’t let him be unkind.”

She made a soft sound, and he looked down to find her staring at him in wonder.

“You are so kind,” she said, a wistful sound to the words. “Charlie?”

“Yes?” Chance said, though his voice sounded a long way off. He’d fallen into those dark eyes and found himself spellbound, unable to look away. His heart was beating too fast, his skin alive with awareness, with how close she was.

“As I am ruined anyway, I… I should like it if you would kiss me. No one ever has, you see.”

Chance’s mouth went dry, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not even André?” he asked, remembering her cousin.

Odette shook her head, never taking her eyes from him. “No. André was lovely, a dear friend, but he never wanted to kiss me. I never wanted him to, either. He was like my brother.”

“Are you sure?” Chance asked, even though a little voice in his head screamed at him to bloody well get on with it.

Odette stared at him. “Oui, I am sure. Just a kiss though, Charlie. Yes?”

“Just a kiss,” Chance repeated, feeling a little dazed as he lowered his head to hers.

His mouth brushed hers, a barely there touch of lips that made them both suck in a breath all the same. He drew back a fraction and then did it again, and again. Had she said one kiss? He wondered about that as his mouth touched hers again with a delicate press of lips. This hadn’t really amounted to a kiss yet, not a proper kiss, and she had not asked him to stop. Still, he did not want to be that man, the one who took advantage, so he pulled back, staring down at her.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, her eyes hazy. She sounded as stunned as he felt.

“One kiss, you said.” The words were breathless, as though he’d run for a mile or more.