Instead, something screeched across the flagstones, and a tall figure emerged from the shadows, reaching for her. May shut her eyes and charged it with a scream.
Elias’s night had certainly taken a turn.
Mere moments ago, he was staring down an enormous pile of documents—the incapability of others in paper form—but eventhe prospect of tearing through it all brought no distraction to his restless mind. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Elias normally relished exercising his control. Tonight, however, he was losing it.
He had gone too long without a bedmate. Yes, that was entirely the reason why his sleepless thoughts were flooded with his accomplice. He was too damned pent up. Elias knew better than to succumb to lust—it was a weakness he had no time for.
But that did not mean he did not enjoy letting loose, or that he did not know how. All his expertise came to the forefront as he thought of May—all titles aside—and the things they could do to each other.
Elias was seriously contemplating seeking the physical release of his hand when a chilling weeping noise came from beyond his chamber wall. He was no stranger to the odd noises that came with a medieval house. These noises, beyond the tunnel entrance he hadn’t used in years, might have scared a lesser man, but Elias was not afraid of ghosts. This, at least, was something he could deal with. He moved to pull open the door.
I swear, if they do not block the grates and stop letting the cats slip in—
What flew into him was no cat nor ghost. The haunted, markedly corporeal intruder knocked Elias clear off his feet. He could feel every inch of his attacker’s decidedly feminine curves as they both tumbled backward onto the carpet.
The fall that knocked the air out of his lungs also seemed to silence the woman. Elias squinted. The light brought in by the moon was not enough to overcome his poor vision, but something about her felt all too familiar. He inhaled the faint scent of orange blossom and vanilla off her skin. That, and the rushed rhythm of her breath, was unmistakable.
“Lady May?”
“Your Grace, is that you?”
There she went, using the wrong form of address again. He flexed his hand and realized it went to her waist without thought. Elias should have been in pain, but all he knew was her form imprinted onto him like the treasured memory this would undoubtedly become.
“What were you doing in my tunnels?”
He had little time to wonder about that as Lady May squirmed, and the signals that his treacherous pent-up body misinterpreted sent blood rushing to his selfish member. It quivered in entirely wishful anticipation. Elias breathed in sharply and sat up at once, suddenly eager to put some distance between the two of them.
Now, she as good as sat on his knees, dangerously close to his cockstand. Her hand rested on his chest—when did that happen?—and so close, he could finally see her face. Her wide eyes shone with reflected moonlight, the straight Greek line of her nose leading his gaze to the plump lips that would undoubtedly feel heavenly if directed to the right place....
Christ Almighty. What was he doing?
“My apologies.” Lady May’s voice was low and breathy. “I was in the library picking a book when the passage swung open... I ventured in and got lost.”
Now that she’d ended up in his rooms, he hardly cared how it happened. Her hand finally left his chest as it trailed down toward his lower abdomen, sending wicked shivers up his spine. Then, her fingers settled on the pool of her robe right atop the swell of his britches and tugged on the fabric. Light as it was, the touch ripped right through him.
“For something to happen, you’ll have to pull harder,” breathed Elias.
Her sharp intake of breath told him she got his meaning well enough. “I… I believe my dressing gown is pinned under you.”
“Of course.”
His disappointment burned hot as Elias shifted a fraction to grant her the chance to slip out of his grasp. The sooner she would go, the better—before all his remaining sense was overwhelmed by her proximity.
As soon as her robe was wrenched loose, Lady May shot up and rushed to the window above his desk.
“It’s so… uh, stuffy… in here!” She yanked on the weathered window handle in vain. Before he could talk himself out of it, Elias stepped behind her and gently covered her hand with his, guiding her to swing the window open in one fluid option.
She whipped toward him, turning neatly into his arms. She had the wild eyes of a hunted deer, torn between escaping and putting up a fight.
Elias frowned. He’d let his unbridled want cloud his judgment, forgetting the ordeal she’d just gone through. “Are you hurt?”
He checked her over for any wounds, only to find that the fabric of her robe had torn in her haste to get away. The sliver of her white cotton nightgown flashing underneath the tatters did nothing to dull the want within him. There was no sight of other damage... but his fingers were itching to run across her skin, just so that he could make certain.
“I am well. I apologize for disrupting your night like this. It’s just that I expected nobody would ever find me in there...”
“I found you.”
“Yes, well... I was wailing on your doorstep like an ancient ghost. I simply meant that come morning, nobody would think to look for me here.”
