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She took a calming breath. “I suppose you are here to ask me one last time to go to Calais with you.” She ran the brush through her hair again, hoping he didn’t notice how her hand trembled slightly.
“I’ve given up on that,” he said, closing the door with a final click that made her dart her eyes at him. “You won’t leave, and I respect your decision.”
Angelette set the brush down. “You do?”
“I do.” He crossed the room, his movements slow and sinuous, like a wolf stalking its prey. He stopped behind her, placing his hands on the back of the chair she occupied before the dressing table. She met his gaze in the mirror.
“I even admire your decision. I appreciate loyalty and courage, even if it is foolhardy.”
Her cheeks colored. “I don’t think I shall take that as a compliment.” But, as always, she felt the dual pull of anger and attraction when in his presence.
“I mean it as one.” He lifted her hair and ran his fingers through it. Angelette tried not to shiver.
“I hate leaving you on your own.”
“I wouldn’t want you to stay.”
His hand ceased threading its way through her hair.
“I mean that you must do what you think is right, just as I too must follow my principles.”
Daventry didn’t speak for a moment. His hand caressed her hair again, causing ripples of sensation to flow from her scalp down to her shoulders, and then to settle in her belly. “Then this is our last night together.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “For now. If all goes well, we may see each other again sooner than either of us think.”
“I have no doubt of that. You’re a resourceful woman. If anyone can survive the storm coming, you can.”
“Thank you. Iwilltake that compliment.” She pulled her hair out of his hands and began to plait it. Her hands shook. “If you did not come to try and persuade me to go with you tomorrow, why did you come?”
He leaned down and took her hands in his, stopping the progress she had made on the braid. Angelette looked up and into his eyes as he began to unbraid her hair. “I think you know. I think you wanted me to come to your chamber almost as much as I wanted to be here.”
She shook her head.
“I believe you enjoyed that kiss we shared as much as I did. I don’t think either of us wants to end this without at least one more kiss...and perhaps more than a kiss.”
“More?” she whispered.
He gave her a sidelong look. “Do you really want to play games, my angel? If you want me to leave, say the word. But if you want me to stay...”
Part of her did wish to play games. They would give her time to think, time to talk herself out of what she wanted to do. But she didn’t really want to talk herself out of the promise in his eyes, did she? She might not be foolish enough to believe he loved her, though she did believe he felt something for her. If he didn’t, would he have done all he had for her? She certainly hadn’t made it easy for him. Or perhaps she was making it difficult for herself because she was frightened of allowing herself to feel all she felt for him.
This was her last chance. After tonight, she would lose him forever.
“Say you want me to stay,” he murmured.
“I want you to stay. I want you to take me to bed, Daventry.” She started to rise, but he put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back down, keeping her in place.
She watched in the mirror as he bent, brushed her hair off her shoulders, and pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. “You may call me Hugh.”
Angelette took a slow breath as his lips traced her skin, ending just below her ear. “Hugh, then.” Her voice sounded low and husky. “Take me to bed.”
He chuckled, his breath warm on her skin. “I’ve been wanting to touch you for ages.”
“You haven’t even known me a sennight.”
“And every minute I’m not touching you feels like a year.”
She rolled her eyes, but heat flooded her belly at his words.
