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Roman pressed his lips to her neck, then swiped his tongue along her exposed collarbone.
“Your room is empty,” she added.
“Hmm.” He trailed his mouth and tongue further, across the round globe of her exposed breast. She gasped. She grabbed his hand as it slid over her thigh, then jumped to her feet, pulling him willingly to his.
“I’ll meet you there. Follow me in five minutes.” She grabbed her fichu and pin, covering her private display. At the door, she said. “Five minutes.”
“Shelene,” he said, then cleared his throat.
“I’ll be without clothing. I’ll be most embarrassed and angry if you do not arrive on time. Or if Joaquin arrives instead.”
Shelene didn’t look back; she couldn’t bear to see his features harden in determination. And denial. Two weeks was an eternity.
And she’d waited long enough.
* * * * *
The list of Roman’s responsibilities and promises was lengthy, and it seemed that each vow and commitment rubbed against the other.
The commodore. Oliver. The Crown. Belgrano.
And now the greatest and most important responsibility, Shelene, to whom he’d promised even more. He’d promised her the world.
His hand, poised over the door latch, froze in indecision. Paradise lay on the other side. There were so many reasons to charge into the room, throw her upon the bed and have his way. A way in which she completely agreed.
How often he’d dreamed of being with Shelene. Since he’d met her, he’d wanted her. The desire was both innocent and sinful. They belonged together, and yet there was still this barrier to happiness.
And what about those reasons to abstain? Nothing had changed. His decision to postpone consummation was still the smartest, most practical thing to do, considering the potential danger ahead.
But he’d passed the point of no return.
He was going in the room to be with his wife. He’d already instructed Joaquin to find another trundle for sleep, throwing him a coin with the instruction. When Joaquin wanted to ask why, his mother directed him in Spanish, putting an end to his curiosity and causing Roman to hold back a smile.
So why did Roman delay now?
Shewas his tell. His strength and his weakness.
Roman tapped lightly on the door. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep.
“Roman?” A quicksnickand the door opened, Shelene peeping between the crack and the jamb. Her hair was down and cascaded over her shoulder, but he could still see the temptation of bare skin. It was too much to hope she had changed her mind about this legitimate rendezvous.
“Why did you open the door without confirming who was standing outside?”
“I knew it was you. Am I supposed to be as suspicious as you in my everyday life?” She stepped away and he slid through the opening. Holding together the edges of the lightweight robe, she peered at him.Lord, what an innocent! Her eyes were round with expectation. And distress, though she tried to hide it.
Only one candle burned along with a small fire in the hearth.
“It wouldn’t hurt to be less trusting. Get in bed. You shouldn’t be about in your bare feet.”
She glanced down. “Oh, I forgot my slippers.”
He stepped closer. Instead of arguing, he bent and swept her up. She gasped but wrapped her arms about his neck.
“So, you haven’t changed your mind?” he asked.
“In five minutes? No. I’m not some flighty English girl.” Her finger passed over his ear.
“You keep reminding me of that.”
