Free Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean

propriety. Now, I ask again, why?”
    She closed her eyes against a wave of embarrassment. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t reply. And then her shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath, and she said, “I’ve never been kissed. I thought it was time.”
    The words shocked him—they were not filled with self-pity, nor did they plead. Instead, they were so honest, so matter-of-fact, that he couldn’t help but admire her courage. Such a statement could not be an easy one to make.
    He did not reveal his surprise. “Why me?”
    Her confession seemed to bolster her confidence, and she replied without pause, as though stating the obvious. “You’re a notorious rake. I have heard the gossip.”
    “Oh? What gossip?”
    Heat flooded Callie’s cheeks.
    He pressed on, “Lady Calpurnia. To which gossip do you refer?”
    She cleared her throat. “I—may have heard—that you left a certain viscountess half-naked in her husband’s conservatory as you climbed out the window to escape his wrath.”
    “That’s an exaggeration.”
    “They say you left your shirt. And he burned it in effigy.”
    “A gross exaggeration.”
    She met his eyes. “What about the vicar’s daughter who followed you across Devonshire in the hopes of ruining herself?”
    “Where did you hear that?”
    “It is amazing what one hears on the edges of ballrooms, my lord. Is it true?”
    “Let’s just say that I am quite lucky that she did not catch up to me. However, I hear she is happily married in Budleigh Salterton these days.” She chuckled at his words, the laugh catching in her throat when he added, “Well, considering the gossip, who is to say I would stop at kissing you?”
    “No one. But you would stop.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I know.”
    He recognized the self-deprecation in her tone, but ignored it. “Why now? Why not wait for a man to come along and…sweep you off your feet?”
    She gave a short laugh. “If the man you speak of had ever planned on coming, my lord, I’m afraid he has obviously lost his way. And, at twenty-eight, I find I have grown tired of waiting.”
    “Perhaps you should exhibit some of the character you are showing this evening in a more public forum,” he said. “I’ll admit you seem far more intriguing than I have ever given you credit for, my lady, and intrigue is the spark of desire.”
    His words hit their mark, and she flushed again. Ralston was unable to deny the enjoyment he felt at this unexpected turn of events. Indeed, this was just the diversion he needed in the face of Juliana’s introduction into society.
    Quickly on the heels of that thought came another.
    Lady Calpurnia Hartwell was the answer to his problems. And she had been delivered to his doorstep—well…rather farther than his doorstep—on the same day as his long-lost sister. He felt a wave of satisfaction.
    He would kiss her. For a price.
    “I wonder if you would be willing to consider a trade?”
    Callie turned skeptical. “A trade?” She stepped backward, putting more distance between them. “What kind of trade?”
    “Nothing so awful as what you are clearly thinking. You see, it appears I have a sister.”
    Her eyes widened. “A sister, my lord?”
    “Yes, I was rather surprised by the fact myself.” He gave her a brief description of the day’s events—Juliana’s arrival, his decision to claim her as a sibling instead of a distant relative, his commitment to finding her a proper sponsor with an impeccable reputation to ease her entry into society.
    “So, as you can see, it’s rather lucky that you are here tonight. You are the perfect solution. Assuming, that is, that you do not make it a habit to visit unmarried gentlemen in the dead of night.”
    She gave a slight, self-conscious laugh. “No, my lord. You are the first.”
    He’d known that was the case and made a mental note to discover at a later date what exactly had prompted her nocturnal visit. “And the last, I would hope, at least until