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She reached out, tentatively smoothing a lock of dark hair away from his cheek. How could she have fallen in love so quickly and hopelessly? For a few brief happy moments, she’d revelled in the possibility that he might love her, too, but now she had to set such dreams aside. Last night she’d shown him how very far from respectable she really was. Once his deal with Harper was signed, she owed him the truth about Albert, too. And once she did that, she’d offer him a divorce. It wouldn’t be very respectable, but he’d have his new, bigger shipyard to console himself for that. He’d probably jump at the chance to set her aside.

In the meantime, she had to put her mask back on, get the dinner party over with and try not to show him how much she cared. There was no doubt in her mind. Once she told him the truth it would be over.

Chapter Seventeen

Robert yawned, stretched and rolled over, opening his eyes with a smile that faded the moment he found the space beside him empty.

He rubbed a hand over his face, memories of the night before flooding back in a torrent. The storm, the long climb over the cliffs, the rescue, the fishermen’s cottages...the argument with Ianthe and what it had led to. That was the most vivid memory of all, though if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was lying in a strange bed completely naked with only her scent on his pillow for company, he might have thought it had all been a dream.

He heaved himself upright, groaning as his sore muscles protested. His whole body felt as if it had been thoroughly and violently pummelled. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t ache. Not that he could regret the evening completely. He’d just woken up from a particularly pleasant dream in which he’d been reliving the latter events of the night and imagining a few more things he’d like to do with his wife. Things he’d still like to do, just as soon as he found her. Bruised and battered he might be, but he’d no intention of letting a bit of physical discomfort deter him. If one thing was clear to him this morning, it was that they’d wasted enough time. There were parts of her he was more than eager to explore in more detail. The very thought was arousing.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘Ianthe?’ He twisted his head too quickly in the direction of her voice and let out an oath.

‘Are you all right?’ She crossed the room in two seconds, leaning over him with a look of concern.

‘Just a bit sore.’ He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. ‘Nothing that won’t mend.’

‘Oh... Good.’

She stepped back from the bed, folding her hands primly in front of her. He frowned at the familiar gesture. It was the way she’d behaved when they’d first met, though he hadn’t seen her do it for a while. She was already dressed, too, though he must have interrupted her because her hair was still loose, flowing in dark blonde tendrils over her shoulders to just below her breasts.

His heart seemed to skip a beat. Funny, but he’d never seen her hair completely loose before. Even last night, she’d kept it tied in a knot at the back of her head. The style seemed almost as much a part of her as her high collars and ridiculously sensible boots. Now it was gone, he felt as though he were looking at a whole different woman.

‘You look beautiful.’

‘What?’ She looked genuinely stunned. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.’ He reached across and grabbed one of her hands, tugging her back towards the bed. ‘Though I preferred what you weren’t wearing last night. Come back to bed.’

‘Robert.’ She cast her eyes down as she pulled away from him. ‘The carts are here. The ones you told to follow us last night. The men are preparing to leave.’

‘Let them.’ He released her hand and leaned back against the wall, throwing one arm behind his head as he studied her. What had happened? Last night, she’d made love to him with wild, sensual, thrilling abandon. This morning, she looked as if she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. She seemed to be retreating before his very eyes. Why? Surely she wasn’t ashamed of what had happened between them? He’d heard it said that ladies were told they shouldn’t enjoy physical relations with their husbands. In which case, he’d just have to convince her otherwise...

‘I’d rather you came back to bed.’

‘It’s after seven. People will talk.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Well, I do! I have a reputation to maintain.’

He tipped his head to one side, detecting the faint tremor in her voice. ‘What’s the matter, Ianthe?’

‘Nothing. I’d like to go home, that’s all. I still have a lot of preparation to do for tonight.’

‘Tonight?’

‘The dinner party.’ She sounded shocked. ‘With Mr Harper.’

‘Oh.’ He sighed wearily. ‘That.’

‘Yes, that. You said it was important.’

‘Did I?’

‘Yes!’

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