Page 26 of The Right to Remain Single

“Take her to bed, and she will be.” He mimed sweeping Thomasina off her feet and laying her in the snow, and then proceeded to demonstrate exactly what she and James should do.

Thomasina put her gloved hands to her stinging cheeks. “Oh, heavens. Is he…?”

“Yes, that’s precisely what he,” James said, and this time she let him escort her away—after a brief, fascinated glance at the ghost.

“He wants you to go to bed with me?” Must she sound so pleased about it?

“Yes,” he grumped.

“Is that what Saturnalia was about?”

“It was like any other celebration that gets out of hand,” James said austerely. “Dancing, drunkenness, et cetera.”

She giggled. “You needn’t sound so starchy. He just wants us to join in the fun.”

The ghost was right behind them, muttering Coward! in James’s ear. “That may be part of it, but…”

“But what?”

He resigned himself to the truth—or at least a portion of it. “He says you are in danger. He insists that I must protect you.”

She made a face. “Poor Max. He rescued me from Sam once before, but maybe he fears being unable to do so again. I think he’s right. Sam has changed. He’s not himself—baiting my father, giggling in that horrid way, and completely unafraid of the ghost. It’s as if—as if he’s gone a little bit mad.”

James wasn’t sure he would go to those lengths, but Furbelow had an unaccustomed air of desperation about him. Might he try to force Thomasina once again, knowing the ghost couldn’t stop him?

“We’re stuck with him for at least three more days,” Thomasina said glumly.

“Yes, but I don’t have to tup you to protect you,” James said. “Pardon my language, but it’s the outside of enough to expect me to do so.”

“He knows you would like to,” she teased.

He didn’t answer—for what could he say to that but the absolute truth? That he longed to possess her, from her sweet mouth to her lush breasts to her hot, wet core. Which was putting it almost as crudely as Max’s demonstration.

Thomasina chuckled, enjoying his discomfiture. “I don’t suppose he has the same standards of behavior as you. Weren’t the Romans flagrantly scandalous? I expect the Warrens would have been right at home in Ancient Rome. I’m beginning to think I would.”

He compressed his lips on a retort, and immediately she relented. “I’m sorry, James—don’t be annoyed with me.”

“I’m not annoyed, I’m tempted. You’re utterly delightful, and I wish I could do as I please rather than what honor requires.”

She licked her lower lip, and a shiver of desire headed straight for his cock.

Fortunately, his brain was competing for attention. He rubbed his temples. “I don’t see how assaulting you could possibly help Furbelow. Your father would disinherit him on the spot.”

“Sam thinks I would agree to marry him rather than bear the shame of ruin—which is absurd, as I would merely go live with my scandalous relatives. What I fear is that shock and anger might kill Papa.”

“Your father is stronger than you think. His whole purpose in life is to take care of you. He’d be more likely to run Furbelow through—if he got to him before I did.”

She smiled. “My knight in shining armor. Don’t worry about me. Forewarned is forearmed. I’ll lock my bedchamber door at night and be perfectly fine.”

He wished he could be sure of that. Danger and deadly peril, the ghost had said. Danger of rape, certainly, but although vile, it wasn’t usually deadly. Many women considered ruin a fate worse than death, but Thomasina wasn’t one of them. Most likely Max didn’t understand that, stuck as he was in an antiquated way of thinking—whatever that might be.

“Is there more than one key to your door?” he asked.

“Mrs. Day has keys to all the rooms, but—”

“Then that won’t do. Keys can be stolen.” Damnation, there was only one way to protect her. Three nights, maybe four or even more. How would he survive with his honor intact?

Still, he had no choice. “I’ll have to stay in your bedchamber at night.”