Page 37 of One Night with a Rake

Her feet hesitated at the landing where she might turn down the long corridor that led to the guest wing.

“Oh, don’t be so stupid,” she muttered. If she could sleepwalk, she could “sleeptalk” too, she reasoned in case anyone should hear her as she continued down the grand curving staircase. Not that she needed to hide behind that sort of subterfuge. She was going to the library, not a gentleman’s chamber.

Going to Nathaniel’s room in the dead of night would be monumentally stupid. And dangerous.

And wildly exciting, a dark part of her heart added.

She tamped down that wicked urge and continued padding toward the library. The marble underfoot was cool, but she needed that. It was bracing. Like a dash of cold water on her cheeks on a morning when she found it difficult to awaken completely.

When she reached the library, a knife-thin streak of light showed beneath the door.

Georgette pushed the door open slowly, taking care not to let the hinges creak.

Lit by a single candle, she found Nathaniel stretched across the banquette in her favorite alcove. He was wearing a black silk banyan and like Georgette, his feet were bare. Ankles crossed, enough of his long legs showed to convince Georgette that he wore nothing beneath the loose robe. One of his arms was tucked up, serving as a pillow for his head, and a book was propped on his chest. He turned a page.

“Come in, Georgette.”

He hadn’t glanced her way, but this time she realized he knew it was her because he’d caught a whiff of her fragrance again. For tuppence, she thought she ought to abandon violet water and take up something spicy and heavy to throw him off his game.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” She advanced cautiously into the room.

“And I didn’t think you’d come looking for me.”

“I wasn’t looking for you,” she said quickly. “Just so you know.”

He rose and walked toward her. “Then this is merely happy chance.”

“Fate,” she ventured.

His smile carved a dimple in one of his cheeks. It was the sort of smile Lady Yorkingham ought to have warned her about if her mother had been the sort who was in the habit of offering any worthwhile advice.

After she’d recovered from scarlet fever, her family physician had warned Georgette that she might suffer from lingering palpitations due to her illness.

She’d never felt any. Until now.

She glanced at the bookshelves but couldn’t force her feet to move toward them. “I’m only here to find a book.”

The banyan dipped to a low vee over his chest, and a dusting of ash brown hair peeped out. What would it feel like? Her fingers itched to touch it.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.

“I couldn’t either.”

His brows drew together in a quick frown. “Are you troubled by something?”

You, danced on her tongue. But if she admitted it, she’d have to explain that she couldn’t sleep because her body was craving him with ravenous intensity. She shook her head instead.

He continued to look at her as if he might somehow penetrate to the deepest wrinkle of her soul. It wouldn’t do for him to realize how she’d been longing for him.

She had to put some distance between them, so she swept past him and sat down in the center of the banquette. “Are you troubled by something?”

“Yes,” he said simply as he came to sit beside her, far too close for her comfort. He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel the warmth of his thigh near hers. “Yes, I’m definitely troubled. Tell me, have you ever made a bargain with the devil, Georgette?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Good. Don’t. He’s a wily fellow.” Nathaniel leaned forward, knees on his elbows. “The black-hearted imp will dangle something you want to coerce you into agreeing with his plan. Then in the midst of things, you’ll discover that what you really want is actually something very different.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”