Read Online The Rake Revealed by Kate Harper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kate Harper
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Camille murmured wryly.
‘I certainly want to do some more digging,’ he agreed, tone bland.
‘So it seems.’ There was no doubt in Camille’s mind that he had a different agenda to the one he was telling her. She suspected it might very well be smuggling. He would not be the first young noble to try his hand at it, although why he seemed so set on staying with Morosett was beyond her understanding. It was unlikely that his lordship would tell her the real reason, however. ‘I meant to ask, is your shoulder healing?’
‘I believe it is on the mend.’
Camille frowned. ‘Does it feel at all hot?’
‘A little stiff, that’s all.’
‘I should look at it to be sure.’ Stiffness was often the case and usually meant nothing, but she would know quickly enough just by looking at it if the wound was inflamed. ‘For I do not think you will ask a doctor.’
‘There is no need for a doctor, but you are welcome to take a look.’
So it was that when they reached the Hall, she led him into one of the smaller parlors and shut the door. ‘Take your jacket off, if you please.’
Lord Tapscott did as he was told, shedding his coat and laying it across a chair. ‘You are most kind, looking after my wellbeing like this.’ He sounded amused.
Camille gave him a severe look. ‘You should have had it looked at before now. You are most foolish, not taking the proper care of yourself. Please undo your shirt.’
‘I have not been entirely remiss. My valet has been keeping an eye on it.’
‘Your valet has medical training?’
‘No, although he is a wonder with boot blacking.’
Camille shook her head, marveling at this. ‘Do you always hold your welfare so lightly?’
‘Only when other, far more charming individuals are concerned for it,’ he returned promptly. He had removed his neckcloth and had freed his left shoulder, pulling the material back. She took a step towards him, then paused. Of course she had seen his lordship in such a state before, but then, he had been in shock, wounded, and in need of care. And even then she had found him physically appealing. Now, with his strength well and truly restored, he was a force to be reckoned with.
Just focus on the task at hand , she told herself severely. You are merely ensuring that infection has not set in.
Schooling her face into a carefully noncommittal expression, she moved forward and gently pushed the fine lawn of his shirt back from the wound. That golden skin showed no sign of redness or unhealthy swelling. Indeed, the only color was a healthy pink where the skin was knitting back together, puckering in a satisfactory way around the scar that would ultimately be left there. The skin beneath her fingertips felt smooth and warm and she wanted to run a hand across his chest, just to feel the fine delineation of the muscles there, feel them shift beneath her hand. She drew it back abruptly.
‘It looks very good.’
‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘It really does.’
Camille looked up sharply and saw something in his eyes, a flash of naked hunger that was as unexpected as it was exciting. She would have thought, with all of his banter, that his emotions would have been equally placid, but there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes.
‘ Monsieur ,’ she said, a little uncertain. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say.
‘ Madam ,’ he replied softly, reaching out to capture her hand and pull her closer. She meant to resist him, truly she did. She meant to tell him to put his clothing back on and to leave. She had things to do. She did not have time to dally with the likes of him.
She meant to say all manner of things, but the pull of the man was irresistible and somehow they were close together, so close that the warmth radiating off the naked skin of his chest brushed against her own, drawing a flutter of excited anticipation from her. Their bodies did not touch, not yet, but stood so close that it was as if they were touching, absorbing each others
‘I certainly want to do some more digging,’ he agreed, tone bland.
‘So it seems.’ There was no doubt in Camille’s mind that he had a different agenda to the one he was telling her. She suspected it might very well be smuggling. He would not be the first young noble to try his hand at it, although why he seemed so set on staying with Morosett was beyond her understanding. It was unlikely that his lordship would tell her the real reason, however. ‘I meant to ask, is your shoulder healing?’
‘I believe it is on the mend.’
Camille frowned. ‘Does it feel at all hot?’
‘A little stiff, that’s all.’
‘I should look at it to be sure.’ Stiffness was often the case and usually meant nothing, but she would know quickly enough just by looking at it if the wound was inflamed. ‘For I do not think you will ask a doctor.’
‘There is no need for a doctor, but you are welcome to take a look.’
So it was that when they reached the Hall, she led him into one of the smaller parlors and shut the door. ‘Take your jacket off, if you please.’
Lord Tapscott did as he was told, shedding his coat and laying it across a chair. ‘You are most kind, looking after my wellbeing like this.’ He sounded amused.
Camille gave him a severe look. ‘You should have had it looked at before now. You are most foolish, not taking the proper care of yourself. Please undo your shirt.’
‘I have not been entirely remiss. My valet has been keeping an eye on it.’
‘Your valet has medical training?’
‘No, although he is a wonder with boot blacking.’
Camille shook her head, marveling at this. ‘Do you always hold your welfare so lightly?’
‘Only when other, far more charming individuals are concerned for it,’ he returned promptly. He had removed his neckcloth and had freed his left shoulder, pulling the material back. She took a step towards him, then paused. Of course she had seen his lordship in such a state before, but then, he had been in shock, wounded, and in need of care. And even then she had found him physically appealing. Now, with his strength well and truly restored, he was a force to be reckoned with.
Just focus on the task at hand , she told herself severely. You are merely ensuring that infection has not set in.
Schooling her face into a carefully noncommittal expression, she moved forward and gently pushed the fine lawn of his shirt back from the wound. That golden skin showed no sign of redness or unhealthy swelling. Indeed, the only color was a healthy pink where the skin was knitting back together, puckering in a satisfactory way around the scar that would ultimately be left there. The skin beneath her fingertips felt smooth and warm and she wanted to run a hand across his chest, just to feel the fine delineation of the muscles there, feel them shift beneath her hand. She drew it back abruptly.
‘It looks very good.’
‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘It really does.’
Camille looked up sharply and saw something in his eyes, a flash of naked hunger that was as unexpected as it was exciting. She would have thought, with all of his banter, that his emotions would have been equally placid, but there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes.
‘ Monsieur ,’ she said, a little uncertain. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say.
‘ Madam ,’ he replied softly, reaching out to capture her hand and pull her closer. She meant to resist him, truly she did. She meant to tell him to put his clothing back on and to leave. She had things to do. She did not have time to dally with the likes of him.
She meant to say all manner of things, but the pull of the man was irresistible and somehow they were close together, so close that the warmth radiating off the naked skin of his chest brushed against her own, drawing a flutter of excited anticipation from her. Their bodies did not touch, not yet, but stood so close that it was as if they were touching, absorbing each others
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