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Rafe continued to smooth his hands over hers. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Truly.”
The wary look returned to her eyes, and she hesitated just as a shiver racked through her. Rafe bit back a sigh. She wasn’t interested in his tenderness but seemed to have no qualms about giving in to desire. If he had to mask his affection in fleshly pleasure for her to accept it, so be it.
“Let me keep you warm, my little bird,” he murmured.
“I’m f-fine.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Your lips are turning blue.”
Before Sylvia could protest further, Rafe flung the jacket from her shoulders, picked her up, and deposited her onto the bed. He then climbed in next to her and wrapped the sorry excuse for a blanket around them both.
“Really,” she huffed. “This isn’t necessary.”
Rafe smiled against her hair. “Then why are you cuddling me?”
“I am notcuddlingyou,” Sylvia insisted even as she wriggled her back against his chest. “You’re merely a convenient source of heat.”
Rafe wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer until all space was extinguished. The soft skin of her arms slid against his, and his muscles instantly flexed at the sensation. He felt her sigh, but it didn’t sound like a sigh of relief.
“We’ll leave as soon as the rain stops.”
Outside, the worst of the storm had passed, but raindrops still drummed against the windows.
“I’m not worried about that,” she said softly. “It will be many hours before anyone notices my absence.”
Rafe nodded his agreement. Most of the guests wouldn’t wake until late afternoon. They were safe until then. “Then what is it?”
Sylvia turned in his arms until their noses were practically touching. “What happens tomorrow?”
“Well, you see, the sun will rise, as usual. You’ll have breakfast first. Here that means eggs and something vile the Scotch call haggis—”
Sylvia clamped a hand over his mouth. She was trying not to smile, but her eyes danced with amusement. “I mean between us.”
Rafe kissed her palm before pulling her hand away. “Whatever you want.”
Sylvia watched him closely, no doubt looking for the lie. But she would find none. He meant it. Whatever she wanted from this encounter, he would give it to her.
“I want you to leave me alone after this. No more accidental meetings in libraries, or waltzes, or sitting across from me during tea.” Rafe opened his mouth to object, but she talked over him anyway. “No. You are utterly transparent. Lady Arlington has already noticed, and soon others will, too. I want you to treat me like a man of your class usually would.”
Rafe pressed his lips into a hard line. There were several ways “a man of his class” would treat a woman like her, but he knew what she meant. “You’re saying you want me to ignore you.” He didn’t even try to hide the sulky tone.
Sylvia nodded. “It’s for the best.” She then lowered her eyes. One fingertip began to gently trace the letters of his chest tattoo. “Besides, you’ll go back to London soon. I’m sure you have a hundred different things to attend to. And there will be so many distractions, you’ll forget all about me.”
On any other woman this display of self-pity would have registered as an irritation not worth acknowledging. Instead, he wanted to tell her how tired he was of London. How nothing in that monstrous metropolis was anywhere near as compelling as she was.Forget her?Impossible.
But Rafe said none of those things. Because he knew she was trying to convince herself more than him.
“And I’ll be leaving for my trip with Mrs. Crawford soon. So, you see, it will be easier this way. For both of us.”
A strange emptiness opened inside his chest at the thought of her thousands of miles away.
“Yes,” he managed after a moment. “Quite right.”
He would abide by her wishes, for now. But he wouldn’t stop trying to uncover her mystery, either. And for that he wouldn’t ask permission.
Her fingertips then drew a lazy path up his chest, toward his clavicle. Rafe held his breath, the better to feel every ridge and whorl from her fingerprints as they marked his skin. “But until then…”
She met his gaze. Her eyes burned with dark lust. He could nearly see himself reflected in the obsidian surface and slid one hand behind her head to cup the back of her neck. Rafe slowly tilted her face toward his, watching as her pupils came dangerously close to swallowing her irises. He had never felt so gratified by a woman’s admiration. It was a gift to be wanted by her.
