What A Scoundrel Wants by Carrie Lofty Read Free Book Online Page A

blood. “A clever excuse. You implicate me, an injured man at rest. Part of the blame is mine, then?”
    “Nonsense.”
    He sat up. The full brunt of his spicy masculine scent assaulted her. Memories of his kiss and his groaning release would not let her think. “Do you hear me, Meg?”
    “Of course, you dullard.”
    “No, listen to me.” He gripped her chin, his thumb swiping across her lower lip. “If you could see, I’d ask you to look in my eyes. I want you to know the truth of what I say.”
    “I hear you.”
    “Had I been dead and cold, your lips on my chest would have brought me back to life.”
    Heat shot from her lips to the apex of her thighs. He brushed his mouth against hers, peppering her with the softest kisses. Another. And another. He released her chin and cupped the base of her head, weaving agile fingers through her hair, holding her fast.
    The man made her senseless. She hated him for that.
    And no matter her determination to keep shame at bay, the slinking, slimy touch of regret crept up to her. She was lost in the woods, in pursuit of her missing sister—all because of him. She had no right to find pleasure in his arms, no right to want him still. Her wanton behavior was as selfish as Ada’s betrayal, maybe more so, and her disloyalty twisted beneath her skin.
    A burgeoning hate for Will Scarlet joined forces with self-loathing. He made her vulnerable, made her weak, and she resented nothing more than her galling weakness.
    To regain the upper hand, Meg kissed him more deeply. She distanced her mind from the physical act of kissing, as she had when kissing Hendon. And like that man, Scarlet yielded to her summons. He leaned into her body, relaxing. His tongue played tempting games, but she remained resolute, denying her body and her lonely heart the enjoyment they craved.
    She broke the kiss and smoothed a palm over his cheek, ignoring how she trembled. “I want to check your shoulder,” she said. “You’ve probably undone all that we accomplished with the lye. Can you see how it looks?”
    He sighed heavily. “Let me aid this fire.”
    When the comforting crackle of flames filled their tiny shelter, Scarlet reclined. He winced as she unwound his bandage.
    “How does it appear?”
    “Raw, rather jagged,” he said. Despite his cold assessment, he sounded unsteady. “But there is no new blood.”
    “Good. What color is it?”
    “You know colors?”
    She stilled, her pulse hammering. Surely, so close to her body, he could hear the pounding like hooves against stone. “I have known color, just as I know its absence. The color scarlet, for instance.”
    “The wound is red,” he said after a pause. “No shade of bile or sickness.” He pushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. She flinched from that gentleness. “You are a strange one.”
    “And you have no call to be particular.” She wrapped the deep cut with another strip of her kirtle. Sinuous muscles jumped and flexed beneath hands she fought to keep steady. “But by all means, if you have another physic ready to tend you…”
    He closed his good hand over hers, gave a little squeeze. “I thank you for this, Meg.”
    Stop it!
    Upon urging her patient to lie back, she petted the sharp lines of his face. The hideous trek back to Broughton loomed like a nightmare. And then Ada? The idea of beginning her search anew, this time without the earl, sunk her spirits.
    No matter the future, the sooner she was free of Will Scarlet’s maddening influence, the better. But for the moments remaining between them, she permitted herself the tiny luxury of memorizing his features. Isolation stretched ahead of her, longer and colder than the years since her illness. The greedy part of her that had taken Scarlet as her lover demanded a few more forbidden memories, hoarding them against a dark future.
    His wicked, teasing eyebrows arched over closed eyes. Rasping breaths evened and slowed. His full lips grew slack. Meg touched her mouth to