Free Taming an Impossible Rogue by Suzanne Enoch Page B

her. To herself she dealt the seven of clubs and the king of spades, both face up. “Gentlemen?”
    “Who was that?” Keating asked, disliking that his curiosity made him ask.
    “He didn’t give his name, Mr. Blackwood.” She glanced up. “Do you wish a card?”
    So now she pretended they weren’t acquainted. He glanced down at the nine and queen in front of him. “I’m staying.”
    Only a flicker in her eyes betrayed that she might be reading more into that statement than he’d actually said. At least he hoped that was the case; considering he’d just realized that while his reputation might help her, it wasn’t doing him any favors, he was a bit distracted. If she pretended not to know him, he couldn’t expect her to trust him. Evidently he was going to have to attempt to behave. Good damned thing, then, that he’d stopped drinking.

 
    Chapter Six
    Camille dealt cards for an hour, then signaled to the room captain that she wanted to go stretch her legs. And she wasn’t the least bit surprised when Keating Blackwood left the table immediately after she did.
    “Please don’t do that,” she muttered, feeling him walking behind her as she headed for the doorway leading into the back of the club and some privacy.
    “Don’t do what?” his quiet voice returned.
    “Follow me about. People will think you’re pursuing me.”
    “I’m not.”
    The odd responding … thump in her chest didn’t feel at all pleasant. “Good. But it looks as though you are, and that will only have more people talking. I don’t want that.”
    From the envious looks some of the other ladies were sending her as she left the room, she was being an idiot. Keating was devilishly handsome, witty, and fearless. And he played a fine game of cards. If not for his reputation, she wasn’t certain she would be able to conjure any objection to his presence.
    Then it struck her. She was doing the same thing to him that others did to her. Camille nearly stumbled in the doorway to the back rooms, and a strong hand gripped her right arm. “Steady, there.”
    “Thank you.” For heaven’s sake, if not for her reputation, she imagined she would have quite a few friends. Perhaps even parents and her own home again. “I apologize.”
    He’d stopped in the doorway, and stood looking at her. “For what?”
    “For being put off by your reputation. It’s hypocritical of me.”
    A grin tugged at his sensuous mouth. “No it isn’t. It’s very wise of you. We don’t compare.”
    Glancing past him at the busy, curious room, she gestured for him to come through the door. “You might as well come in here.”
    With a slight hesitation she almost didn’t notice, he walked into the narrow corridor and shut the door behind him. “This is nice. You can travel up and down the length of the club without men drooling on you.”
    “It was Lady Haybury’s idea,” she returned, “but men don’t drool on me.”
    “I don’t know why not. You’re lovely.”
    Her cheeks warmed. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been complimented when the speaker didn’t attempt to pinch her or to lure her into his bed. “They speak to me in the club,” she said aloud, “but at the same time they seem to think either that I’ve been irretrievably soiled and can be purchased for a penny, or that my being near them will give them the plague.”
    “If I may,” he drawled, reaching out to pluck at her sleeve, “taken as a whole, men are idiots and fools. They want what they cannot have, and fear that what they do have has been gotten too cheaply to be valuable.”
    She was beginning to realize that Keating Blackwood was a very unusual man. And that intrigued her, far more than she should have allowed. “And where do you fall in this categorization?”
    “I’m the man who’s learned his lesson and very clearly sees the follies of others.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Absolutely.” He tilted his head a little, his eyes lowering to her mouth.