The Elusive Lord Everhart: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series by Vivienne Lorret Page A

her, so unlike the way he was with everyone else. She longed to discover the mystery behind his changeling behavior.
    She’d been trying to make a point to him about how he could not remain cold and annoyed with her for years and then suddenly turn warm and friendly without explanation. Yet at the moment, she no longer cared. She was solely living in this moment. Her, Calliope Croft. Not a character in a story, but her.
    Another breath touched her. His lips glided against her flesh once more.
    “Everhart, are you kissing me now?” She knew the answer, of course, but she needed to hear him admit it.
    “No, Miss Croft,” he said, nipping her lightly. The fingers at her shoulders trailed down to tease the flesh beneath her lace trim, just above the curve of her breasts. “I’m offering you a frame of reference, should you accuse another man of kissing your neck in the future.”
    That was unlikely, but she made no comment. Shamelessly, she let him continue. A rake should behave as a rake ought , she reasoned. This was his basic nature at work. And she preferred the heated press of his lips far above his unwarranted coldness. The soft, teasing caress of his fingertips made her breasts tingle. Her nipples grew taut. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to arch her back.
    Surely, this solitary moment wouldn’t hurt her reputation or change the fact that she would be gone from here as soon as she found the letter and . . . Wait .
    The letter.
    That was the reason she’d come into the map room in the first place. How could she have forgotten? Well . . . Everhart’s skillful hands and lips were the likely cause. Nonetheless, now that she remembered her purpose, she could not forget it again.
    Leaning forward, Calliope abruptly abandoned her spot on the pillow and clambered down the stairs. Not wanting to appear like a frightened ninny, she smoothed her hands over her gown and turned to face him. But that was a mistake.
    The firelight caught the dampness of his lips, which drew her attention to the spot cooling on the back of her neck. She shivered. His blue-green eyes were cloudy and heavy lidded in a way that made her want to climb the stairs again. He offered no excuse for his behavior, but merely beseeched her with his potent, seductive charm, tempting her to return to his embrace. And oh she was tempted indeed.
    She shook her head as if to answer his unspoken question. “You have distracted me from my purpose long enough.”
    A slow grin curled the corners of his mouth. “If you are ever in want of another distraction, please enter my sanctuary again. I promise to be thorough.”
    Her knees wobbled at the same time her suspicions went on alert. With four siblings, she understood taunting when she heard it. In addition to that, they both knew of his wager with Montwood and Danvers; therefore, he would never be so thorough as to compromise her. Yet apparently, that was what he wanted her to believe. “Come now, Everhart. I thought we were going to be friends, but friends do not issue threats.”
    “I do not think we can be friends, Miss Croft.” Another threat . His gaze was clearly telling her something else entirely. It said, We could be much, much more than friends . The same way he looked at all women.
    As much as it thrilled her—to be seen as a woman worthy of his seduction when all she’d earned before was his censure—somehow this felt worse than when she’d thought he hated her. Now, she was just like all the others. Not that she wanted to be different in his eyes. No, it was just that she wanted to be special to someone , instead of so easily forgotten.
    She hid her inexplicable wound behind a tight smile. “I’m certain we could have been friends, if you weren’t such a conceited, condescending prig.”
    Relishing his open-mouthed astonishment, she curtsied ever so sweetly and took her leave.
    G abriel fell back against the stairs, allowing the sharp edge of the tread to bite through his coat. He