Free Kiss From a Rogue by Shirley Karr

asking how the cribbage game went.” He looked only vaguely surprised to see so many people on the doorstep.
    “Let us in, you sleepy twit.” Galen shouldered her husband aside and entered the house first.
    The men swarmed in behind her and headed for the staircase. Galen reached between them and snagged Mr. Sinclair’s sleeve. “If you want to pull off this charade, you’ll need rings. Give me your hand, lad.”
    “But I thought Lady Montgomery was to be my pretend wife, not you.” He winked.
    The housekeeper cuffed his shoulder. “Don’t sass me, lad.” Her tone was gruff, but Sylvia could swear she saw the housekeeper blush before she ducked her chin to note Mr. Sinclair’s ring size.
    Within minutes, all seven men accompanied Mr. Sinclair to an upstairs bedchamber, dressed him in Montgomery’s plain clothing, and returned him to the foyer. Galen left when they did as well, and had just returned before Mr. Sinclair and his entourage descended the staircase.
    “I don’t wish to alarm you, my dear,” Mr. Sinclair said, still adjusting the slightly too large shirt and breeches, “but if your watchdogs continue to follow my every move, I may not be able to perform at my best on our wedding night.” He drew out the last two words.
    Sylvia felt her cheeks heat, but before she could reply, Galen cuffed him on the shoulder again.
    “Mind your manners, laddie. Hold out your hands, both of you, please.”
    Sylvia twisted the narrow gold band on her finger. “But I’m already wearing a ring.”
    “New husband, new ring. Off it comes.” Galen held out her hand.
    Sylvia stared at the ring that Montgomery had placed on her finger just over four years ago. She hadn’t taken it off since. She’d been tempted, especially after she found out how badly she and her uncle had been misled about Montgomery’s finances. There had been seven little screaming horrors in her charge before she married, but the roof at her uncle’s home did not leak.
    Now Uncle Walcott had ten children.
    Sylvia yanked off the ring and handed it to Galen. She received a heavy gold band in exchange.
    Galen placed a smaller ring on Mr. Sinclair’s palm. “They belonged to my parents,” she said. “I’ll want them back when you’re done.” She cleared her throat. “Go on. Exchange rings.”
    Mr. Sinclair gave a rakish smile. “A pretend wedding for a pretend marriage.” He held her hand and gently slid the ring onto her third finger. “With this ring, I thee temporarily wed.”
    Sylvia stared at the wide band, with an engraved pattern worn smooth in places. Anything to keep from staring at his hand holding hers. She remembered what had happened just hours after the last time a man had slid a ring on her finger. Mr. Sinclair’s hands were strong, but not roughened from years at sea. Rakes were supposed to be highly skilled in the bedroom. Against her will, her breath quickened.
    Well, she wouldn’t be finding out how skilled he was. She wasn’t going to fall prey to a handsome face and charming smile. Men had caused her nothing but grief.
    She looked up—and was hit dead center with the full force of said charming smile. Mr. Sinclair—should she call him Tony now?—was holding out his left hand, waiting. She reluctantly entered into the game. “With this ring, I thee temporarily wed.”
    “Finally!” Jimmy stepped forward. “If we don’t leave now we’ll miss the signal, and all this will have been for nothing.”
    “Ceremony isn’t over yet. The bride hasn’t been kissed.” Before anyone could protest, Mr. Sinclair leaned forward. Sylvia braced herself, torn between annoyance and curiosity. Very mild curiosity.
    He curled his fingers around hers, raised her hand, and turned it over. With a smoldering look in his eyes, he dropped a kiss on the inside of her bare wrist.
    Sylvia tried to breathe normally, not wanting her fluttering pulse to betray her reaction. No one had ever kissed her there before. It was just his mouth