Never Rescue a Rogue (The Merriwell Sisters, #2)

by Virginia Heath

It was Lord Bellingham’s flagrant attractiveness that made him so very unattractive.

“Will you do that for me, Miss Diana, Goddess of the Hunt and determined Hunter of the Truth?

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Irrespective of his recent tragedy or his sudden elevation to a dukedom, she knew he wouldn’t appreciate being treated any differently. “Or should I be curtsying, Your Grace?” She dipped into a deep one with undisguised belligerence, and his lip curled in mock distaste at her effort. “That’s quite enough of that, thank you! There shall be no airs and certainly no graces between us, Diana. Besides, and frankly there is no other way of saying this without framing it as a compliment so please do not take it as one, subservience doesn’t suit you.”

He smiled, looking sheepish, boyish, and utterly, sinfully, annoyingly handsome all at the same time. “Whatever words you think Miss Dahlia would take the greatest comfort in reading on the morning of what should have been her wedding.” And in an instant all her principles were shot to smithereens. Because that lovely, thoughtful gesture amid everything else Giles had had to deal with over the last two days did more than pluck at Diana’s toughened heartstrings—it also broke through the impenetrable wall she had built around that jaded organ.

The woman his wary, frightened, lonely heart missed more than waking Giles was prepared to acknowledge. The woman who was now, reassuringly, only eighteen hours away.

And it was also perfectly normal to feel certain things for the opposite sex from time to time in an overtly physical way even though she wasn’t predisposed to that sort of nonsense. Such reactions were natural in all the creatures of the earth after all, and being aware of those unconscious, lustful impulses was a long way from acting on them.

all the Dukes of Harpenden have Christian names beginning with a G.” “Of course they do.” He pretended not to find that amusing. “For the aristocracy, my dear Miss Diana, our traditions are almost as sacrosanct as our noble blue-blooded line. We cannot risk tainting it with another random letter of the alphabet, or the bedrock of British society might crumble. It is also likely where my lifelong love of alliteration comes from. It’s in the blood just like my superior nobility and inbred sense of duty.”

“Tell her she brought the sunshine to my twilight.”

Lost in his gaze and before she had the presence of mind to step away, he reached for her hand, laced his fingers with hers, and she felt the soft kiss he bestowed upon them everywhere.

shimmered in the lamplight, begging to be touched. “So should you.” His words came out croaky, but he didn’t dare clear his throat in case she realized it was strangled because of her. “If anyone needs the benefit of some beauty sleep, it is you.” “You need significantly more beauty sleep than me. Although, to be frank, even if you slept for a week you’d still look a fright.”

He had put her in the old-fashioned Queen’s Room on purpose because he knew its grandiose ridiculousness would amuse her. The green theme also matched her eyes—not that that had a bearing on his choice. Not that he would admit to, at any rate.

“Giles Sinclair is a lover not a fighter.” What the blazes had made him say that? And why were his features attempting to smolder as he said it? Typically, she was unimpressed with his flirting. “What a hideous thought.”

Just like her sister had been to Hugh, Diana was a forever kind of woman. The sort a man would need to spend eternity with because accepting anything less would be pure, unmitigated torture.

I plan to grow old disgracefully in my own little apartment somewhere, doing exactly as I please, when I please. And before you say I shall be lonely, as everybody always does whenever a woman dares break the accepted mold we are all supposed to fit in, I shan’t. I have two sisters who seem determined to fill the world with offspring, so I shall lead my nieces and nephews astray whenever I feel the transient urge for the hearth and home of family.”

“Have you never looked in a mirror, Diana? Because believe me, you are far too beautiful to blend into anything.”

“One cannot blend in if one is cursed with being temptation incarnate.”

Apart from Charlie, all the men I work with see me as a joke. A silly girl trying to compete in a man’s world.” “You are the least silly girl I have ever met.” An even better compliment than being called beautiful but not quite as thrilling as being described as temptation incarnate. “And only a blithering idiot wouldn’t see that.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion of Miss Merriwell, I asked how she is—in herself. Is she in fine fettle? Is she happy?” Is she as miserable as me? “She is as fit as a butcher’s dog and seems as happy as a pig in—” Giles held up his palm to stay the inevitable expletive and Dalton grinned. “But that wasn’t what you were really asking, was it? You wanted to know if she is pining away for you.”

I-wonder-if-you-might-consider-breaking-the-law-by-becoming-my-duchess

“If we ignore the glaring fact that we would have been spared that abhorrent ordeal if you had listened to me in the first place, and that I told you so at least three times and was ignored, the obvious question that now begs to be asked, Diana, is—did you at least manage to hear anything useful?” Diana emerged from the cocoon of the shawl like a firework. “You are insufferable!” In the absence of the prayed-for thunderbolt, she whacked him over his irritating head with her reticule. “Insufferable, incorrigible, and irritating in the extreme!” “But right!” he said, still laughing at her. “You have to concede that.”

But those painful twenty minutes trapped behind that bush had reminded him that it was good to be alive and that something unexpected, ridiculous, and spontaneous in otherwise dreadful circumstances could still bring a smile to his face, no matter how hopeless he felt inside. Such was life’s rich tapestry.

Trapped, she picked the lesser of two evils and pulled a face as she nudged Giles and pointed to her cheek. “Get it over with or we’ll be hounded all day with this nonsense.” “Be still my beating heart.” He rolled his eyes at Olivia and her sister. “What hot-blooded male could refuse such an enthusiastic invitation?” He turned to her, the usual mischief suddenly dancing in his dark eyes. “But Giles Sinclair never shrinks away from a challenge. Prepare to swoon, Diana.” Before she could argue, he tugged her into his arms, dipped her backward, and kissed her like he meant it.

The old chap only too delighted to be enticed into action.

This wasn’t the time for misjudged soul baring or inappropriate declarations. “I think I am in love with you, Diana.”

Was she mapping her past experiences on her present and denying herself something she now wanted?

His smile was so hopeless she could not bear it. “That even though circumstances and my own conscience dictate that I can never have you, the cruelest irony of all is that despite the futility of it, I love you with all my heart, Diana. I have since you first took my breath away, and I shall love you until the last breath leaves my body.”

Because I really do want us to get back to being the unlikely friends and unconvincing enemies that we’ve always been, Diana. I cannot imagine not having your prickly presence in my life and I would hate it if you tried to avoid me.”

“You made me throw all my plans of blessed spinsterhood out of the window, made me yearn for an eternity stuck with a vexing, flippant, annoying rogue like you, and now you rescind the offer and try to send me away?”

If it all goes to hell in a handcart, you can be assured that I know that you told me so and we shall honeymoon in Botany Bay together.”

“Diana Merriwell.” Giles dropped to his knees and stared deep into her eyes. “My Goddess of the Hunt, Hunter of the Truth, and Fearsome Kicker of Hornets—for some inexplicable reason I love you, and much to your chagrin, you love me, too.