A Tale of Two Lovers by Maya Rodale

inspired in her, she could not afford to be wooed and wowed by kindness, so it was good he didn’t provide any—other than not ruining her disguise in public. She owed him for that.
    And yet, in the spirit of her own self-preservation—keeping Roxbury away from her and her traitorous feelings of desire—she spoke cuttingly.
    “How clever. I had no idea there was a brain behind that pretty face,” she said, smiling charmingly, and forgetting she was supposed to be a man. His eyes widened. She had insulted him by describing him with a feminine adjective.
    “I’m not pretty , Lady S—” he said hotly.
    “Shush!” She placed her finger over his lips. He mustn’t expose her now!
    The volume in the room suddenly dropped considerably, and they both froze in a very compromising position.

Chapter 14
     
    T oo late, Roxbury realized the error of being near her. He leaned back in his chair, putting as much distance between them as possible, short of leaving entirely. Something like gentlemanly concern kept him near her, for he could not leave her to be discovered by someone much more nefarious than he.
    Or perhaps he did not wish to leave just yet.
    It was so obvious to him that she was a woman dressing up as a man. But as he took a glance around at his companions—and not one of them would meet his eye—it was clear that they believed her to be a man.
    A man who had leaned in close and touched his lips. In public. Dear God.
    They had spent the past quarter of an hour perusing the betting book and conversing in hushed tones. It would not look good. In fact, it would look like the rumors were true beyond a shadow of a doubt.
    But look at her ! He wanted to yell. Her.
    No man had a mouth like hers, with its ability to curve into a sphinxlike smile. Her features were too delicate. Julianna’s green eyes were wide with wonder at her surroundings when every other man’s gaze here was tired and jaded. And those legs—for the love of God, those long, luscious legs leading up to perfectly curved hips that could only belong to a woman.
    At best, she could be passed off as someone’s young cousin from the country.
    He should expose her. Just yank off that cap and revel in her auburn hair tumbling down in waves. Laugh as jaws dropped on the stodgy old men and young swaggering bucks drinking unsuspectingly in the club.
    By God, he’d like to run his fingers through her fiery hair, drawing her closer, to kissing distance. He’d claim that mouth of hers as his own, silencing her “witty” remarks until the only sound she was capable of uttering was a moan of pleasure. The jacket, the cravat, all the things of her boy disguise would go, until she was undeniably a woman, and a ravished one, at that. And his.
    At some point, the fantasy had moved from club to bedroom. God, he needed a woman. It had been too damned long.
    “You’re staring, Roxbury. What will people think?”
    Well, he wanted to say that it depended upon people’s ability to read his mind. But that was not an avenue of conversation to pursue with her. Instead, he said, “I don’t know how they are deceived by you.”
    “People see what they want to see,” she said with a shrug.
    “For example, you insist on seeing me as a rake with questionable tastes,” he replied.
    “And you see me as a complete harridan,” she replied.
    “And so much more,” Roxbury said. “I see you as a complete and utter she-devil shrew who is destroying my life for no apparent purpose, other than to sell more newspapers.”
    “Tell me how you really feel, Roxbury,” she retorted. “And I thought we were having a moment.”
    He would have never said such a thing to a woman he was seducing. But though he may have entertained lusty thoughts of Lady Somerset, he had no intention of seducing her. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he’d survive.
    “We might have been, in spite of myself. Everyone here thinks you are a man, which means they are thinking the worst of me right