He comprised her entire world. He dominated her awareness until nothing existed beyond him. He was all that mattered, all that was of substance. And yet...
Everything started to have a dreamlike quality to it. She could no longer tell where she ended and he began. They were absorbing each other, and a haze began to settle in.
Green. Murky. Distant.
The green fairy was wreaking havoc now, wanted him all for herself, the little witch. Leonora was clutching him, striving to hold onto him.
But in the end, he floated away.
Rook felt the woman go limp in his arms only a heartbeat before her mouth released its hold on his. Easing back, he looked down on her. She appeared thoroughly contented.
She was also bloody well asleep!
Damnation! He’d never had a woman react in that manner when he’d been kissing her. If anything, they always became more animated. Had he bored her? She certainly hadn’t responded as if uninterested.She’d clutched, grabbed, and held him as though she was being tossed about by a tempest at sea and he was the raft that would safely deliver her to shore.
And dear God, the sounds she’d made. The whimpers, the sighs, the moans. They’d made every aspect of him tighten with need and want. They’d urged him to push himself into her and fuck her completely and thoroughly, and it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to follow that path.
Then it had all come to an unsatisfying conclusion as though it had meant nothing at all.
His masculine pride wanted to dump her right there and then. But his mother, blast her, had raised him to be a gentleman of the first water and so he lowered the lady gently to the fainting couch as he might set down the finest of delicate porcelain.
Fainting couch? Perhaps she wasn’t asleep but had fainted. Maybe his ministrations had overwhelmed her. Had taken her by storm. Perhaps he’d been too vigorous in his attentions, leaving the novice overcome with sensations. Lightly he nudged her shoulder. “Miss? Madam?”
A little mewling escaped from those slightly parted lips that he wanted to take possession of once again. She shifted onto her side, tucked a hand beneath her pink-tinged cheek, mumbled something about a fairy, and then emitted an endearing snuffling snore. Asleep then. Bloody hell. What was he supposed to do with her now?
Leave her to it, he supposed. Yet, he couldn’t quite force himself to his feet. Instead, he lowered his backside to the floor and studied her. Her face sported a maze of faded freckles. Did she not weara bonnet when she went outside? Her exquisite dark pink gown indicated she could certainly afford a hat. As did the pearl combs adorning her red-tinted hair, and the diamonds at her ears and throat. Anyone who frequented this club had money to spare. She was no exception.
She was also quite damned dictatorial. He’d rather liked it. No names indeed. He did regret he hadn’t insisted on that at least, not that he’d have provided his true name. A corner of his mouth quirked up. He doubted she would have either.
She’d been intent on keeping matters between them as impersonal as possible. He wondered if he’d demonstrated the futility of that endeavor. Skin touching skin always created a bond. Whether it was a pleasant thing to be remembered was something else entirely. He wasn’t quite certain he’d ever forget the time spent with her. The Lady of Sighs. That was how he’d remember her.
He considered striving to awaken her, but decided it was simply best to leave. She was safe here. All women within Aiden’s domain were. His brother’s desire to protect women—the manner in which he’d protected their mother—was one of the reasons Rook admired him and they got along so well.
After shoving himself to his feet, he bent over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and then for good measure, brushed his lips over hers. “Farewell, lovely lady. I hope it was all you imagined.”
He grabbed a velveteen blanket that was folded on a nearby chair and draped it over her. Then he walked to the door, turned back, took one last look, and left.
Leonora stirred to someone whispering softly in her ear. “Miss? Miss?”
Slowly, carefully, her head feeling as though workers were building a factory within it, she eased her way out of the rapidly distancing lethargic haven—grimacing as the pounding hammers battered her skull more forcefully—and opened her eyes.
A young maid gave her a blindingly bright smile before straightening. “It’s morning, miss.”
“Morning?” Squinting, she gingerly glanced around, taking care not to move her head too quickly. “This isn’t my hotel room.”
And this young girl wasn’t her maid, the one who helped her dress, the one she’d sworn to secrecy when she’d slipped out of the hotel last night after her mother had gone to bed. She’d been bored and had decided to go in search of adventure.
“No, miss. You’re in the kissing chamber at the Elysium Club.”
Ah, yes,thatclub where women’s fantasies were supposed to be adhered to. She’d gambled a bit, enjoyed a few drinks... and then apparently come here for a nap. In spite of the discomfort rampaging through her head and her roiling stomach, she moaned and stretched, unable to recall the last time she’d slept so deeply. “I had such a lovely dream. Must have been the absinthe.”
“It has been known to release inhibitions. Some say it even causes hallucinations.”
It certainly had done that. “The most handsome man appeared. He didn’t talk much but still he was quite charming. And he—wait. What?” She sat up ramrod straight, slammed the heels of her handsagainst her protesting head, and groaned low. “The kissing chamber?”
“Yes, miss. It’s where ladies are sent if they want only a kiss.”
“The man was real.”
