Free The Devil Rogue by Lori Villarreal Page A

the cut on her arm, now healing nicely, but would still leave a telltale scar. Each time her father had beaten her , it had added to the others until they culminated into a lifetime of painful memories, ugly reminders of her failure to make him love her.
    But he wasn’t her father, or at least she suspected it. He must actually be her stepfather . S he was loath to give him even that title . The Baron seemed to fit better in her mind.
    She thought of Blackridge, with his masculine beauty, s eeing her scars and being repulsed by them . It made her stomach tighten into knots .
    His skin was probably smooth and unmarred by any imperfections . Ju dging by his pleasing features and his impressive physi que, he was most likely perfect .
    “May I be excused, my lord?” she asked politely .
    He studied h er for a moment.
    She needed to escape his presence, at least for a little while before she had to—
    “Yes, princess, you may have some free time to yourself, but I expect you in my room in two hours.”

 
    5
    Villarreal / The Devil Rogue                                      
    Chapter 7
     
     
    IAN WAS HAVING second thoughts about his scheme to have Miss Hopkins bathe him .
    What the hell had he been thinking ?
    Just imagining her hands roaming over his skin made him swell painfully in his trousers . He stood next to the bed, a half empty glass of brandy in his hand, and stared at the tub . He watched the misty steam rising from the heated water , consider ing whether or not he should forget the whole thing .
    No . H e couldn’t back out now . He ’d already set his course and now he must continue to follow it.
    Moving toward the tub, he set his glass on the small table next to it . He removed his robe and settled into the hot water . T he warmth wrapp ed around his body, relaxing his tense muscles .
    What was it about the lovely Miss Hopkins that made him want her more than any other woman ? He was an experienced lover, having bedded some of the most beautiful women in London and beyond. S o , why was his pulse racing in anticipation of her arrival ?
    He had no time to answer that question when the knock sounded on his door.
    Angela stood on the other side of the door to Blackridge’s bedroom . Should she knock or just go right in ? What rules of protocol pertained to a mistress ? But she wasn’t officially his mistress yet, so she supposed she should knock .
    Oh, for goodness’ sake !
    What was she doing here, anyway ? She should run back up to her room, pack her things and bolt for the front door – now, while she still had the chance.
    But then where would she go ? W hat would she do ? She had no other option s except to forge ahead, face the unknown, accept the inevitable .
    Gathering her courage, she l ift ed her chin , straighten ed her shoulders, and knocked . She heard his muffled voice from within call, “Enter!”
    Angela opened the door and walked into the room . She immediately faced the large, imposing bed, the covers turned down invitingly . A breeze, still warm from the heat of the day, gently parted the sheer, floor - to - ceiling curtains covering two large, open windows on one side of the room.
    “My lord, I — ”
    “ Close the door , princess.”
    Her words lodged in her throat . A ll she could do was stare dumbly, as her air supply seemed to be cut off . He was already in the tub – naked ! She blindly swung the door closed, h er heart pound ing in her ears as she took in his broad, muscular shoulders, and the wide expanse of his chest – h is smooth and hairless chest . Odd , that. S he’d heard men were generally very hairy , or at least that’s what she’d overheard , as she’d eavesdropped on numerous conversations at parties . She knew it was rude to listen in while others were talking , but how else was she to learn anything ?
    One sculpted arm, bulging with more muscles , was draped over the side while he rested the drink in his hand on the edge