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He twisted the knob. “Then open the door and let me have a look. Head injuries can be serious business.”
“No really, I am fine.” She’d reached the door then and she stood just on the other side imagining she could hear him breathe.
He was silent for a moment and then he said. “I’m afraid I either need to have a look or get your mother. Someone should attend you to be on the safe side.”
Her breath caught. She could not open the door for a man but she absolutely did not want to see her mother now. She couldn’t stand any more lectures today. “You’ll stay in the hall?”
“I just want to look,” he answered.
Turning the lock she slowly opened the door, hoping she wasn’t making a giant mistake.
Chapter Four
Theo watched the knob turn as the door slowly cracked open. Well, well…his little doe did want to escape. But not from him. It was her mother whom she didn’t want to be with now. He’d seen it, of course. The way the mother made sure every word, every breath was politely perfect. It had been the same with his father. It made him clench in annoyance. He had this urge to free Violette the way he’d emancipated himself.
The door stopped and Violette appeared in the crack. She was in a night rail that came up about her neck and flowed around her body, her feet bare. It showed nothing, but somehow he could still picture running his hands up underneath the fabric. There would be very little in the way to stop him. What would her legs be like?
His eyes travelled up her body as though he might be able to see. But he forgot all about her legs as his eyes took in the vision of her hair undone, hanging to near her waist.
“I…I was about to braid it when I dropped the brush,” she said, her voice faltering. Violette must have seen his gaze. He looked into her face then, which was equally distracting. Her large chocolate eyes and full red lips tempting beyond belief.
He gave a nod. “That makes sense.” Why did his voice sound like that? Rough and guttural. “Let me just have a look. Where did you hit your head?”
She pointed and he could see the egg forming on her forehead. He pulled his lips taut, wincing in pain on her behalf. He raised his hand, then gently touched the flesh. Her skin was warm and achingly soft, her pale complexion markedly different from his own dark, rough skin.
She pulled away a little as he touched a tender spot. Regretfully he moved his hand away. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He raised two and watched her eyes focus in on the digits.
“Two,” she answered softly, her gaze clear, her expression bright.
With a nod, he lowered his hand, resisting the urge to touch her again. “You’re fine,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Mr. Riley,” she replied.
He held in his rumble of protest as she used the formal address. He wanted to hear his given name fall from those lush lips. “You’re welcome.”
Theo heard her draw in a breath. He touched the doorframe and swayed a little closer. He’d like to press his lips to hers, feel her exhale in his mouth.
“If I do not see you in the morning, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley.” The words rushed from her lips and then, not waiting for his response, she snapped the door closed again.
He raised his fist to knock. That could not be the end of their relationship. But if it wasn’t, then what was? He would return to Barbados and she would marry, he was sure of it. Why did that sound awful? Giving a low growl, he stomped back to his room. He’d not let one pretty face rewrite his future. At first light, he’d take a carriage home. He’d spend a few days with his family, just long enough for Rex to join him, and then they’d return to the ship. Rex had been right. If a man wasn’t careful, England would sink its claws into him and not let go.
But sleep took a long time to come and he’d hardly slept at all before he was rising. He washed quickly, dressed, and left his room. Pausing outside Violette’s door, he stared at the wooden panels, looking for answers to questions he didn’t dare ask.
With a decided stomp of his foot, he continued down the hall. He didn’t like leaving her. He thought of that man last night, of other men who might try to take advantage. As he made his way out of the inn, he considered the man who might marry her. The one who would explore her legs, her lips. His fist clenched and he thumped his closed fingers against his thigh.
The carriage he’d hired yesterday pulled up to the front of the inn and he climbed inside, not glancing back. He would not look back. Lady Violette would have to live in his past. He ignored the way his lips turned down. He wasn’t the marrying type, but if he were, she might be just the sort he’d consider. Warm, beautiful, and with something hidden beneath her exterior. It almost made him wish… Theo pushed those thoughts aside. He would return to Barbados. Not just because he wanted to but because he’d begun a project there that he needed to see through.
* * *
Violette heard a stomp outside her door and sprang from the bed, then raced to the window. Her heart hoped it was Mr. Riley, and when he emerged from the inn moments later she knew she’d been right.
She watched his broad shoulders hunch to fit through the carriage door and then the door snapped closed.
Her breath caught somewhere between a sigh and a sob. She’d never see him again.
When he’d touched her last night, something deep had sparked inside her. Much like the first ember of a fire. It was tiny, a small flame. It could be put out, of course. She’d have to do so, but it resisted, staying lit inside her heart, threatening to become a fire and then an inferno. She absolutely could not allow that to happen. There was no room for such desires in her life.
Turning away from the view of the carriage leaving, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t know what her future held but she was certain it was as cold and gray as the weather. All the heat and promise of life had just ridden away.
