Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

There was so much he wanted to tell her—all of it true, and none of it right.

A gust of rain came through the window as the storm burst with new vigor. The flame of a gas lamp sputtered and died, despite its protective glass housing. Keir sprang up and went to shut off the lamp valve, while Merritt rushed to the window. “The frame sticks from humidity,” she said, struggling to close it, gasping a little at the rush of chilled wet air.

Keir came to help her, pushing the window down with one hand, while rain streamed over the glass. He left one hand braced on the sill, near her shoulder, while they both looked out at the turbulent night. He’d always loved storms, the charged air making his senses come alive. Shadows and ripples of light undulated across the sky as if they were viewing it from undersea.

“We’re in for a brattle,” he observed.

“Is that what you call it?” Merritt asked, turning to face him.

Gently he used the pad of his thumb to stroke away a raindrop near the corner of her mouth. “Aye, we have dozens of words for weather. If it comes in a soft shower, we call it a greetie.”

Merritt’s lips quirked. “In Hampshire, we say it’s a roke.” Her hands came to rest lightly at his sides.

Keir drew an unsteady breath as he felt her nestle closer to him. His body was hard and heavy, filled with a desire beyond utterance. Every cell clamored for him to take her, mate with her. Instead, he bent his head and laid his cheek against her hair. They stood together as the dark night sang a million notes of rain.

“At this moment,” he whispered, “I’m as happy as any man who ever lived.”

Her voice was muffled in the folds of his borrowed shirt. “Then stay.”

Keir’s heart jolted. She was being impulsive, he told himself. He didn’t want to be something she might later regret. He didn’t want to cause her one moment of pain or sorrow, when she’d already had her share of both.

“No,” he muttered. “’Tis hard enough to leave you as it is—dinna make it worse.”

“Stay for one night. Just one.”

He’d never been so wildly aroused and frustrated. It would be so easy to let himself forget everything except the pleasure of her body. But one of them had to think of the consequences, and apparently that had to be him. There was no choice but to put a stop to this, now.

Letting go of her, he said brusquely, “You dinna know what you’re asking for.”

“I’m asking for the gift of a night with you.”

Keir wanted to melt to the floor. For her to put it that way … as if making love would be a gift from him to her, instead of the other way around … she devastated him. With just a few words, she had taken ownership of him from head to toe.

He longed to tell her that. Instead, he decided to be crude. If he had to offend her for her own good, so be it. He only hoped she wouldn’t cry. Maybe she’d slap his face instead—he’d prefer that to tears.

“I dinna fook like a gentleman,” he told her gruffly. “There’ll be no pretty words and fine manners. I’ll throw a leg over, start the bed to banging, and when I’m done, I’ll give you a pat on the arse on my way out. If that’s what you’re after, tell me where your room is, and we’ll go at it.”

But there was no outrage. No face slap. Just a brief silence before Merritt said helpfully, “It’s the last door on the right, at the end of the hallway.”

She’d called his bluff. Her lips twitched at his expression.

Damn it.

Exasperated, Keir took her upper arms in his hands and held her apart from him. “If I stayed, no harm would come to me—only to you. I’d pay any price to have you, but I won’t let you be the one to pay it.”

“I’ll take responsibility for my own decisions.”

“Are you so daft, lass, that you think one night with me would be worth risking everything?” he demanded.

Merritt shrugged and lowered her gaze, but not before he saw the impish gleam in her eyes. “I’d like to find out.”

Unable to stop himself, Keir jerked her close and kissed her roughly. She opened to him with sweet yielding, soothing the ragged edges of his passion until he groaned and stroked inside her mouth with his tongue. The kiss turned deep and languorous, sending waves of dizzying pleasure through him.

God help him, he would have died for what she was offering. To be inside her … to hold her for hours … he had to have this, no matter what happened afterward. Feverishly he kissed his way down her neck, feeling the movements of her throat as she gasped and swallowed.

Taking her head in a gentle clasp, he kissed her forehead and eyelids, and followed the slope of her nose down to the trembling bow of her upper lip.

“If that’s what you want,” he said hoarsely, “I promise you … the night will be worth it.”





Chapter 10


KEIR HAD NEVER SUSPECTED it was possible for a woman to wear so much clothing. After they’d gone to Merritt’s bedroom, he’d unfastened the back of her velvet dress and she’d stepped out of it to reveal a profusion of … Christ, he didn’t know the names for them … frilly lace-trimmed undergarments that fastened with tiny hooks, ribbons, and buttons. They reminded him of the illustrations pasted on the walls of the Islay baker’s shop, of wedding cakes decorated with sugar lace and marzipan pearls, and flowers made of icing. He adored the sight of her in all those pretty feminine things. His fingers itched to touch her. He was worried as hell for her sake, whereas she seemed almost cheerful about the whole thing, as if they were having a wee adventure instead of starting down the path to ruin.