Ravished by the Rake by Louise Allen Page A

her cheek, his breath feathered over her mouth and she tipped her face up, remembering the feel of his lips on hers, the sensual slide of his tongue as he had explored her mouth while he sprawled on the ground.
    Nothing happened. Confused, Dita opened her eyes and looked straight into his dark, amused amber gaze where her reflection was trapped like a fly. Alistair flicked the tip of her nose with the end of her plait and stepped back. She swayed and threw out her hands to grip the edge of the table to keep from falling
    ‘As always, I will do my best to keep you out of trouble, Dita my dear.’ He sauntered to the head of thecompanionway leading down to the lower deck and the Great Cabin and paused at the top. ‘The stewards are on their way, Dita. What are you waiting for?’

Chapter Six
    W hat am I waiting for? A kiss? An apology? The strength to walk over there and slap that beautiful, assured, sardonic face?
Whatever it was, she was not going to let him see how shaken she felt, how close she was to reaching for him. Dita blinked back angry tears, furious with herself and with Alistair.
    ‘Waiting for? Why, nothing.’ It was quite a creditable laugh and really should have been accompanied by the flutter of a fan. ‘I had thought you might have wanted a reward for your gallant rescue just now, but obviously you are not as predictable as I thought you were.’ The door to the roundhouse was mercifully close. ‘I will see you at breakfast perhaps, my lord.’
    Something showed in his face, just for a second. Admiration? Regret? Dita got safely through the door and ran, her hand pressed against her mouth to stifle the furious sob that was struggling to emerge.
    ‘Dita!’ Averil’s startled cry stopped her dead inher tracks. ‘What on earth are you doing dressed like that?’
    Dita pushed back the canvas flap of her own cabin and pulled her friend inside. ‘Shh!’ The walls were the merest curtains, enough for an illusion of privacy only. She pulled Averil down to sit beside her on the bed. ‘I have been climbing the rigging,’ she muttered.
    ‘No! Like that?’ Averil whispered back.
    ‘Of course, like this. I could hardly do it in a gown, now could I?’
    ‘No. I suppose not. I was going to come and see if you were ready for a walk before breakfast. I thought if the other ladies weren’t out there we could walk faster and stretch our legs.’
    ‘Without having to stop every minute to exclaim over an undone bonnet ribbon or bat our eyelashes at a man?’ Dita stood up to pull off the
kurta
and Averil modestly looked away as she tugged off the trousers. ‘Pass my chemise, would you? Thank you.’ Her stomach was churning with what she could only suppose was a mixture of unsatisfied desire and sheer temper.
    ‘Did you really climb up? All the way? What if someone had seen you?’ Averil clasped her hands together in horror.
    ‘Someone did.’ Dita unrolled a pair of stockings and began to pull them on. She had to tell someone, pour it all out, and Averil was the only person she could trust. ‘Alistair Lyndon. And he climbed up after me and made me come down.’
    ‘How
awful!’
Averil got up to help lace Dita’s light stays.
    ‘I was glad to see him, if truth be told,’ she admitted,prepared to be reasonable now that Averil was aghast. ‘Or, rather, I was glad when he came after me. My first instinct when he told me to come down was to climb higher and then I wished I hadn’t! It is much harder work than I realised and my legs were beginning to shake and when I looked down everything seemed to go round and round in circles.’
    ‘What did he say when you reached the deck again? Was he angry? I would have sunk with mortification, but then you are much braver than I am.’ Averil bit her lip in the silence as Dita, words to describe what had happened next completely deserting her, shook out her petticoats. ‘It was rather romantic and dashing of Lord Lyndon, don’t you think?’
    It was and she