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"You can see the entire town from up here," she said. She gave him a quick smile over her shoulder, then turned back to the view. "People are stopping and staring at the hotel. Do you think they've already heard that I'm here?"
"I'm sure of it."
"How fascinating. I suppose I've created a scandal."
He moved to the foot of the four-poster bed and grasped the column of dark wood. It wasn't just that damned dress, although it was making him hot and hard. Being this close to Megan, seeing her, knowing they were alone and remembering the kisses they'd shared not three hours before was
enough to make him want to pull her onto the wide bed in front of him and have his way with her.
He wasn't going to do that. No matter how she tempted him. At least he was going to do his damnedest not to do that, he thought grimly as she placed one knee on the window seat and bent forward to get a better view. Her action raised her bustle, allowing the yards of silk to drape over the length of her legs. The position was provocative. He turned away.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I thought we could talk."
"What?" He glanced at her. She'd turned back toward the room and was perched on the edge of the window seat. Her hands were folded modestly in her lap, her gaze firmly locked on the floor. She was the picture of innocence, except for the expanse of pale bosom that rose and fell with each breath. If she took a really deep breath, he wondered if she would pop out, then got disgusted when he realized he was holding his own breath in anticipation. "What do you want to talk about? No. First tell me why you wanted to talk in my room. And why the hell you're wearing that dress."
She stood up quickly and smiled. "My Worth gown? Isn't is wonderful? I've had it for three years." She held the skirt out at the sides and glanced down at the fabric. "It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I knew I shouldn't buy it. After all, where was I going to wear it in Landing?" Her smiled faded. "But I bought it, anyway. What was it you said? Another of my guilty secrets."
She released her skirt and walked across the floor until she stood directly in front of him. He could smell the rose water she'd used in her hair.
"I don't expect you to understand," she said quietly. "You think I'm playing a game, but I assure you, I'm quite serious. I've realized that I'll be judged no matter what happens, so I want to do something wicked. Just once. All my life I've done the right thing. The expected thing. I know you can't understand that, either. You've always flouted convention."
"I do understand," he said, risking contact by taking one of her gloved hands in his. At least he couldn't feel her soft
skin, even if the heat of her was enough to drive him mad. "More than you might think. But are you sure this is what you want? Have you given enough thought to what you're doing?"
"No." Her soft laughter made him smile in return. Megan's almond-shaped eyes glowed with humor as she wrinkled her nose. "I haven't thought about it at all. That's the perfect part. I'll stay an hour. Long enough to ruin myself. Then I'll go home. I hope you don't mind."
"That you're using me as the method for your social demise?" Oddly enough, he did mind. He tried to keep the edge from his voice, but he knew she'd heard it. She withdrew her hand from his.
"You're angry."
"No, disappointed. You didn't give me a choice. Did it ever occur to you that one of the things I liked best about you was your innocence and pure reputation?"
She backed up slowly. "I wasn't sure you liked me at all, anymore. As for my reputation, why would you care about that? You've always scolded me for caring about what other people think. You've mocked my concerns for respectability." When she reached the window seat, she sat down in a cloud of silk and flowers. She glared at him. "Make up your mind. Either you like my position and standing in this town, or you want to help me dispose of it. You can't have both.''
She was right, he thought, chagrined. Her willingness to let her life be governed by what other people would think made him furious, and frustrated. If not for what her family would have said and done, she would have left with him seven years ago. He studied her, the fire in her eyes, the faint color on her cheeks. Or would she? Perhaps she had simply used her family as a convenient excuse. Maybe she'd never planned on marrying him at all. Maybe...
