Page 44 of The Thorn and the Rose

She laughed a little at that. How like a man, to expect her to risk everything when he risked nothing at all.

He gave a sigh of frustration. “I brought you here, as you asked me to. What would you have of me?”

“Do you have any children?”

He jolted at the question, staring at her in shock. “No!” he exclaimed, and something in her relaxed a little at the indignation that shone in his eyes. “Why the… Oh, good Lord, you thought Elmira’s babe was mine?” he demanded, and she did not mistake the anger shining there now.

“No,” she admitted. “No, I didn’t think that, but Everett—”

“Your brother has a good deal to answer for,” he growled.

“Perhaps,” she said softly.

He reached for her again and she did not deny him the embrace, though good sense told her she was a fool. If anyone saw her here, it would be enough to ruin her, but alone with a man, in his arms… She might as well move in and be done with it, but he was gazing down at her and she was helpless against the pull of attraction, the desire to press her mouth to his, so she did. He reacted at once, his arms closing around her, holding her so tight she might have protested if it hadn’t felt so good. This was what it was like to be wanted, to be desired, needed, if only for a little while.

“Marie,” he whispered, his hand tracing a path up, from her hip, over her waist, higher. Her breath caught as his hand closed over her breast, squeezing gently, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the peak. Even through fabric and corset the movement stirred her blood, colour rising to her cheeks as her breathing sped. “Marie, you have been in my thoughts for too long, why must you keep tormenting me? Either trust me or leave me be.”

She gave a breathless laugh at the idea she was the one in control of what was happening, as if she had all the answers. Rosemarie had only ever been a pawn, just a rather stubborn one who tried to disrupt the game out of frustration, because it was only ever men moving the pieces and she wanted her turn.

“And if I trust you, what then?” she asked. “Will I live here, at Gillmont, with the other women?”

He frowned at that. “You can stay here as long as you need to, Marie, but I’m not suggesting you live here. I can’t be seen coming here, for one thing. We try to keep this place discreet, to protect the women and children here. I would be happy to make other arrangements for you, naturally.”

“Naturally,” she said, closing her eyes against the pain of reality. “A little cottage somewhere out of the way, perhaps.”

“If that’s what you would prefer, but I don’t wish to speak of that now, Marie. I will look after you, take care of whatever troubles you find yourself in, only stop playing games with me.”

“How do I do that? Like this?” she asked, and tugged his mouth down to hers again. He kissed her hard this time, pulling her tight against him, so close she was left in no doubt of his desire for her.

The door opened, and he gave a growl of annoyance as his head came up. George stood in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Beg pardon,” was the swift reply, and the door closed again.

Rosemarie pushed out of his arms with a horrified gasp. What was wrong with her? Why was she behaving so… so ridiculously? How reckless she’d been, and how much farther she could still fall if George were to speak of her, or…

“Don’t look so wretched. George is the soul of discretion. Living here it comes with the territory,” he added, giving her a smile which was no doubt supposed to be reassuring.

It was the kind of smile that could melt a woman’s heart and get him anything he wanted, she had no doubt. In this moment, it only made her terribly afraid.

He went to her, taking her in his arms again. Rosemarie wanted to weep, torn between going to him and running far, far away.

“Stop looking so anxious. It will all be all right, Marie. I promise.”

“Do you keep your promises?” she asked, wondering if he could hear the desperate edge to the question.

“Always,” he said gravely, and bent his head to kiss her again.

Rosemarie closed her eyes, telling herself she was a fool, but his kisses were like opium, filling her head with dreams, eating away at her will to behave as she ought, addictive and terribly dangerous.

Oh, Rosemarie, you fool, she thought, and did not pull away.

Thorn kissed her until Marie was trembling in his arms, breathless and clinging to him. When he pulled back, he was not above feeling a little smug at the dazed expression on her face. She’d held nothing back, never pretending coyness, but giving openly and without restraint. He suspected she would offer no protest if he suggested they carry this on in her room, but he was not about to do so. Though she refused to confide in him, he felt certain she was a lady, and one with troubles enough to force her into acting recklessly. For surely, this was not part of her brother’s plans. Was it?

Gazing at her now it seemed impossible, and he felt a swell of affection, of protectiveness as he regarded her, cheeks flushed, her mouth reddened and her eyes closed fast, dark lashes cast down. He wished he might get to know her in the normal way of things, openly and in full view of family and friends. There would be no secrets between them in that daydream, they could talk together as they had in the cellar, but in the light of day. He could take her to the theatre and to concerts and show her off to his friends, the two of them getting to know each other with no hidden agenda. But that was not reality. The reality was in his arms, however, and despite her lies and her refusal to trust him, he wanted her.

Marie licked her lips, leaving her mouth a little open, face raised, waiting for him to carry on and the sight sent a bolt of lust thrumming through him. With difficulty, he tamed his unruly thoughts, got himself back under control, and tilted her head back down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“That’s enough for now,” Thorn said gently, regretting his words when she flushed and tore herself away from him. He had not meant to sound mocking, like he was teasing her, but she seemed to have taken it that way, like he was toying with her.