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No, her soul had definitely been intact when she’d lain in bed and stared at Aidan’s bare chest this morning. Her heart had thundered with nervousness, but that hard pulse had pushed her body to arousal. They’d lain together before, but only in stolen, rushed embraces of rumpled clothing and hushed moans. She’d never seen his bare chest or the strong lines of his arms. She’d never awoken to find his cheekbones brushed with pink warmth and his hair a wild mess.
My God, he was beautiful. Even more handsome than he’d been as a boy.
Today, his beauty didn’t scare her. Instead, it filled her with giddy joy. She gathered up that joy, retrieved the coffee tray, and made herself walk into the room.
He didn’t wake when she set the tray on the table next to the bed, so Kate took that as permission to look at him. He was in her bed, after all. Surely that conveyed some small degree of possession to her. And how could she not look? His shoulders were so wide and stroked with mysterious hollows. The secrets of his body called to her fingertips, begging for exploration. But when she looked to his face, she found his eyes open and watching her with sharp intensity.
“Good morning,” she said before she could give in to the impulse to jump up and run away.
He rose up on his elbows. “I’m sorry. I meant to wake before dawn. Your neighbors . . .”
“We’ll need to take care when you leave. A few titillating rumors are one thing, but the scandal of a man stealing away in the morning . . .”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“I am the one who asked you to stay, Aidan.”
He paused in the act of sitting up. “Yes,” he said softly. “You did. And nothing could have made me leave.”
She tried to stop a smile and failed. “Nothing but the morning?”
Aidan frowned as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Nothing but a meeting with the shipbuilder at nine A.M., but perhaps I can send a note to Penrose and have it postponed.” When she sat down on the edge of the bed, Aidan propped himself against the wall and watched her.
“It’s enough that you stayed the night.”
His gaze caught between heat and wariness. “Enough for whom, exactly?”
Kate ducked her head and smiled at her hands. Yes, that was heat she saw in his eyes. And it had definitely been life she’d felt in her veins. Her pulse beat a tattoo that urged her to move faster along this path. “It was enough,” she finally whispered. “For now.”
When she looked up, his gaze was sharp as a blade. A blade that wanted to cut the seams of her clothing and remove it from her body.
“You’re right,” Aidan said, the words so soft they floated toward her. “It was enough. I’ve never done that.”
“Done what?”
“Slept in a woman’s bed.”
No, that couldn’t be right. She shook her head.
“Slept,” he said, his voice dropping even further, “in your bed.”
He’d been with other women. He must have been. But she understood what he was telling her. He had not cared enough to spend the night in their beds. But he’d stayed in hers.
He could be mine. The fierce knowledge took hold of her like a ruthless hand. He could belong to me. Again.
Power flooded her veins. She wanted him. And she need make no other decision besides that. She had just told him that sleeping was enough, but in that moment it became a terrible lie. And if she wanted him, now was the time. He’d said himself that he was leaving for London soon. Perhaps even today. But right now he was in her bed.
“You’re right, though,” she whispered. “It wasn’t enough, was it?” All the power in the world could not convince her to meet his gaze at that moment. Instead, she watched his chest expand with a deep breath. She wanted to touch it. She wanted to know the taste of his skin.
She forced her eyes up, made herself meet the green heat in his gaze. And then she said the words. “It’s only seven. Would you lie down again?”
His brow fell, his eyes clouding with confusion, but he didn’t ask what she meant. Instead he handed her the half-empty cup, and slipped back down to the mattress.
Kate couldn’t pause to think, or fear would stop her. So she put her hands to his chest and spread her fingers wide.
His ribs eased down as he sighed. The long slow exhalation seemed to go on forever. His lips were parted, his eyes dark with question. He didn’t know what she wanted from him, and she could understand that. She didn’t know what she wanted either, aside from the feel of his skin under her hands.
She slid her fingers down, feeling the warmth, the contrast of smooth skin and crisp hair. Down farther, over the muscles of his belly. She watched as they jumped beneath her touch.
