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Knowing she might be scared, he turned around and opened the door. William’s heart lurched. She was standing right there, tightly wrapped in a blanket, appearing sweetly vulnerable. Her face flushed a delicate rosy hue, and her lavender eyes searched his face, a question he did not understand in her gaze. A raw sensation moved inside his chest before it muted.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“A few minutes,” she said with a shy smile, tucking a few wisps of hair behind her ears. “Daring myself to open the door and not be afraid of the storm.”
Another thunder roared and she jerked, her fingers tightening on the edges of the blanket.
“Let us go inside,” William murmured, wanting to remove that look of fear from her eyes.
She looked beyond him, worrying her bottom lip. Pippa seemed to debate with herself, took a steady breath and walked right into his arms. William did not question her decision, merely held her to his chest and turned with her to face the powerful beauty of the storm. She shifted in the warmth of his arms so that her back was flush to his chest. William wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his chin gently on the crown of her head. Contentment flowed through his veins, and he inhaled her feminine scent deep into his lungs.
Pippa bravely looked at the sky, and with each rumble of thunder she jerked and squeezed the arm he had hugged around her waist a little bit tighter, but she did not ask to return inside. After a few minutes of admiring the rain and the blackened sky, she murmured, “Nature is so very beautiful but also terrifying.”
William opened his hand over the soft curve of her belly, realizing that his child might even be forming at this minute. He had never been reckless with a lover before, but he had lost his damn head the instant Pippa had kissed him. It was an alchemy he might never understand. He wondered if she realized that their burn of passion just now could have got her with child.
“Pippa—”
“If you say words of regret I shall plant you a facer.”
He faltered into stillness.
“Do you doubt that I can do it?” she demanded tightly.
“I recall with perfect clarity you dropping another gentleman on his arse,” he said drolly.
There was a throb of hurt in her voice he did not understand, nor did he want it to deepen. No words of regret would pass his lips to her.
“I am a woman, William.”
“I damn well know that, Pippa,” he said gruffly.
“I perfectly knew what I wanted, and I took it, William. I daresay you knew what you wanted too. I have no regrets or expectations.”
She turned around, gripped his shoulders, and hauled herself up his body wrapping those strong yet elegant legs around his hips. A brutal shock of arousal arrowed through his body at her provocative move. He quieted the desire, sensing this moment to be important to her, and she bloody well mattered to him. “No regrets, Pippa.”
She hugged him, burying her face in the curve of his neck, her breath a whisper of caress over his throat. Turning, careful not to trip over the blanket wedged between them, he walked with her inside the cottage, closing the door. William carried her to the bedchamber and bore her down on the bed, rolling to tuck her into his side. He would not take her again. While he would not regret their passion, he would not repeat their recklessness.
“Tell me stories about yourself,” she murmured sleepily. “I doubt it is yet noon, yet I am so tired.”
“Passion will do that.”
He felt the heat of her blushes.
“Well, I do not wish to sleep. Are you going to tell me a story or two?”
“There are too many. I have lived a long and varied life.”
“Oh, ancient one, I am certain thousands of stories have accrued.”
William laughed at her soft mockery, tugged her even closer to his body and regaled her with a few anecdotes of his time at university. They fell into a natural rhythm of laughing and sharing stories. Determined to be up and about, she went into the small parlor and read for the rest of the day, at times staring outside the small windows with a wistful look on her face as she observed the rain falling from the heavens. Her expression said she dreamed of something whimsical, and William wondered if he should dare ask her thoughts.
He joined her in reading his own book, wrinkling her nose when she saw it was a political tome. In the evening after eating the simple meal of mutton stew with potatoes, they played three rounds of chess before she stifled her yawning. When they retired to the bedroom, heated invitation glowed in her eyes, but William ruthlessly resisted until, trustingly, Pippa fell asleep, curved into his side. Though William felt a bit sleepy, he stayed awake for a long time, wondering what the hell should he do next. The only thing he was totally certain of, it was far too scandalous and dangerous to remain with her in this intimate space any longer.
* * *
“Pippa!”Agatha cried, hiking her skirts above her knees, and running toward their cantering horse.
William’s hand around Pippa’s waist tensed but he showed no other reaction that, in front of the duchess’s palatial home, several ladies and a few footmen had witnessed their return atop his stallion.
