Not Quite A Gentleman

Fourteen

Today’s Modern Woman must understand that men often say one thing and mean another. For example, “Would you like to accompany me for a moonlight stroll” means, “I want to kiss you.” However, when a man says, “I want you,” there can be no mistaking his meaning. The only question is whether or not the lady will want him as well.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

Three hours after arriving back at Creston Manor and leaving Victoria in the drawing room with her aunt, Nathan still paced the confines of his bedchamber, his thoughts knotted like a hopelessly tangled ball of yarn. He should be concentrating on figuring out where the jewels might be hidden. Should actually be out looking for them. But he’d given his word not to conduct any searches without Victoria, and spending more time in her company right now was simply not a good idea. Not when his command over himself teetered so close to the edge. Bloody hell, she’d set him on fire. Simply by sitting on a blanket. Watching her eat had proven an exercise in torture, requiring a monumental effort not to fling their meal aside and simply snatch her into his arms. He’d thought that lying back, closing his eyes so he couldn’t see her would help, but his reclined position had only served to make him burn to pull her on top of him.

He raked his hands through his hair and blew out a long breath. Damn it, he’d known lust before, but this… this aching desire for her, this intense passion she inspired, was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d always considered himself a man of control, finesse, and patience. But Victoria somehow stripped him of all three. He didn’t want to kiss her, he wanted to devour her. He didn’t want to slip her gown from her shoulders, he wanted to tear it from her body. With his teeth. He didn’t want to slowly seduce her, he wanted to push her against the nearest wall and simply bury himself in her. Make hot, sweaty, mindless, searing love to her. Then turn her over and start again. If she knew even half the things he wanted to do to her, with her, she’d most likely never recover from the shock.

When the need to have his hands on her, to kiss her, had finally become unbearable, he’d given in, but had forcibly restrained himself, barely touching her. He’d succeeded, but the effort had cost him. He’d desperately wanted to remain by the stream with her, prolong their outing, but he knew his limits, and he’d reached them. One more touch, one more kiss, would have snapped his tenuous control.

He paused by the window, looking down at the expanse of lawns, the soaring trees, and the slice of white-capped blue water visible in the distance. The sight had always soothed him. But not now. Every nerve and muscle pulled with tension, and a sense of frustration such as he’d never known prowled through him. And damn it, it was all her fault.

Dragging his hands down his face, he groaned. Had he actually believed he could resist her? Yes, he had. And perhaps he might have been able to if his attraction had remained purely physical. He’d at least had a prayer of standing his ground against a woman who was merely beautiful. An even better chance if she proved shallow, superficial, and annoying, as he’d assumed Victoria ultimately would.

But how could he withstand the allure of a woman who was not only beautiful, but exhibited so many other facets that he found irresistible? He’d desired her the moment he’d set eyes on her, but each moment spent in her company revealed another unexpected layer of her personality, which only increased his hunger for her.

She’d proven herself unafraid to stand up to him. She was amusing. Witty. Intelligent. She’d offered him sympathy, kindness, and understanding. Believed him innocent of wrongdoing. Tried to befriend his ducks. She liked his cat. His dog. His cat and dog liked her in return. In spite of all her possessions, she’d suffered loneliness, and the fact that she would have given up all those possessions, her beauty, for one more day with her mother…

Damn it, he hadn’t expected her to be… vulnerable. Hadn’t anticipated her touching his heart. Hadn’t wanted to care about her like this. In this heart-tugging, gut-wrenching, mind-numbing way. A woman who would never be his. A woman who, within a matter of weeks, would be engaged to another man.

“Augh!” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids to blot out the torturous image of her lifting her face for another man’s kiss. Enough. He needed to clear his mind of her. Erase the taste and feel and scent of her. Had to start concentrating on the things he should be thinking about. The jewels. So he could either find them or be convinced there was no hope of finding them so he could then pack up his belongings and animals and return to his peaceful life.

A swim. A long, brisk swim in the cold water would set him back to rights. Cool this unwanted ardor and force his thoughts back on the proper path.

Relieved to have a plan, he quickly exited his bedchamber. When he entered the foyer, he asked Langston in an undertone, “Where is everyone?”

“Your brother rode into Penzance with instructions to not expect him until late,” the butler reported in a hushed tone. “Your father, Lady Victoria, and Lady Delia are having tea on the terrace.”

Excellent. He could easily avoid the terrace. “If anyone asks, you haven’t seen me. I’ll return for dinner.”

“Yes, Dr. Nathan.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nathan left the house.

Victoria stirred a lump of sugar into her third cup of tea and nodded absently at whatever Aunt Delia was saying. Not that it mattered that she wasn’t paying attention to the conversation about some party Aunt Delia and Lord Rutledge had both attended over a decade earlier, as she was convinced that her presence was quite forgotten. There hadn’t been a break in the lively chatter between her aunt and Lord Rutledge since they’d sat down to tea an hour earlier. She’d considered excusing herself, but she couldn’t resist the lure of the gorgeous late afternoon weather. And if she remained indoors, she would be alone with her thoughts-not something she cared to contemplate. There’d be plenty of time for that during the long night ahead.

Besides, it was a pleasure to see her aunt so animated and thoroughly enjoying herself. There were a number of gentlemen with whom Aunt Delia occasionally attended the opera, and she never lacked for partners at a ball, but she insisted those men were merely friends of long standing.

Never had Victoria seen her aunt blush. A becoming pink flush colored her face as she laughed at something Lord Rutledge, who was also clearly enjoying himself, said.

A muffled tapping on the flagstones behind her caught Victoria’s attention and she turned. B.C., head held regally high, trotted across the terrace toward her. Upon his arrival, he bumped his massive head against her thigh. With a quiet laugh, she scratched behind his ears while he lifted his nose and sniffed the air.

“Smell biscuits, do you?” she murmured. The eager look in his intelligent dark eyes clearly indicated he did. She broke off a piece of her biscuit and offered the morsel to B.C., who, after eating it, rested his head on her lap and gazed up at her adoringly.

“Hmmm. I suppose I’m to think this attention springs from gratitude, but I suspect it’s because you want more.”

For an answer, B.C. stood at attention, licked his chops, then sent a pleading glance toward the remaining biscuit on her plate. “And I suppose you expect me to share the rest of my last biscuit with you?”

B.C. instantly plopped onto his bottom and raised his right forepaw.

Victoria laughed. “That seems to be your all-purpose answer. Lucky for you, it is quite irresistible.” Breaking the biscuit into several pieces, she’d just offered B.C. the last bit when a flash of white caught the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw a man walking into the woods behind the stables. In seconds he disappeared from sight, but there was no mistaking that it had been Nathan. She shot up from her seat as if ejected from a catapult.

“Heavens, are you all right, Victoria?”

She jerked her gaze from the spot where the forest had swallowed him to look at her aunt. “Yes, I’m fine. A… uh, bee startled me.” She flapped her arms around for good measure. “It’s gone. But now that I’m up, I think I’ll take a walk. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, my dear,” Aunt Delia said.

“By all means, enjoy this lovely weather,” Lord Rutledge said with a smile. “Although the sun will set soon. Take care to return before dark.”

After assuring them she would, Victoria didn’t hesitate another second. Recalling her promise not to wander off alone, she whistled softly for B.C. to join her. The dog fell into step alongside her and she steamed across the terrace like a ship under full sail, determined to find out exactly what Nathan was up to. Oh, yes, it was possible he was just innocently strolling through the forest, but there’d been something distinctly furtive in his manner. Hurrying along with his head down, as if not wanting to be seen. She wouldn’t accuse him again without proof of searching for the jewels alone, but she was determined to do a bit of spying of her own to make certain such proof did not exist.

She shot B.C. a grim smile. “You’d best hope your master isn’t skulking about looking for treasure without me, because if he is…” Her voice trailed off as she was unable to think up a punishment dire enough. “If he is, he’ll have proven himself a liar. Dishonorable. A man of no integrity who does not keep his word.”

Yet, perhaps that would be best. If he were dishonorable, that would surely kill her unwanted attraction to him. She would never remain drawn to a man of poor character, no matter how handsome or charming. She quickened her pace. “Come along, B.C. Let’s find out what the master spy is up to.”

When they entered the forest several minutes later, Victoria moved swiftly along the well-worn path. As they approached the fork, she slowed and looked down at B.C.

“Any idea which way he went?”

B.C. sniffed the air, then headed down the path leading to the lake. Her lips pressed into a grim line, Victoria followed the dog, scanning left and right, looking, listening. But she saw nothing save the trees and greenery, heard only the chirping of birds and the rustling of overhead leaves courtesy of the breeze. Long shadows fell across the trail with the waning rays that harkened to the coming twilight. They were nearing a curve in the path when B.C. broke into a run and galloped around the corner. Seconds later she heard a distinct crashing in the underbrush.

“B.C.,” she whispered as loudly as she dared. Where had that dog dashed off to? Probably after a rabbit or squirrel. Or perhaps he’d located Nathan? Botheration, she had no desire to be discovered by Nathan, as she was supposed to be the one doing the spying. Of course, if he found her, she could simply claim she was out for a walk with the dog. Perfectly true.

She rounded the corner and saw a slender path that led off to the right. As that was the direction in which she’d heard B.C., she followed the trail, trying to step gingerly so as to make the minimum amount of noise. A minute later she caught a glimpse of the lake through the trees. The trail cut sharply to the left, and when she turned, she came upon B.C., who sat, tongue lolling, tail wagging, next to an oddly shaped dark mass she prayed wasn’t the remains of some poor animal he’d hunted down.

“There you are,” she murmured, approaching cautiously, leaning forward, casting a suspicious eye on the strangely shaped thing that showed no signs of life. Her stomach tightened with dread. “Please don’t be a rabbit. Or a squirrel. Or a-”

Boot.

Victoria straightened as if a plank had been shoved down her drawers. Hastening forward to investigate, she discovered it was not a single boot, but a pair of boots. Lying atop a sloppily folded pile of clothing. There was no doubt to whom it all belonged. She’d recognize Nathan’s worn boots and fawn breeches anywhere. And if his clothes were here, that meant he was…

Naked.

Whoosh. A flash of heat engulfed her. He’d told her of his fondness for swimming in the lake. Clearly he’d done so, for she sincerely doubted he was searching for the jewels while…

Naked.

Crouching down, she peered through the dense foliage toward the lake. The water resembled a sheet of blue glass, absorbing the brilliant orange and red reflections of the setting sun on its pristine surface. No sign of him. Drat! Er, excellent. She could scamper off undetected. Her gaze fell to the pile of clothing and she pursed her lips. Hmmmm…

She cast a quick look all around, verifying she was alone, then looked again at his clothing, which seemed to silently chant Take me, take me.

Oh, but she couldn’t. Could she? Some imp inside her told her she most certainly could. He was accustomed to such games-indeed he’d confessed to playing them during his youth. When on earth would she ever be presented with such an opportunity again? Never. Practically chortling with glee, she quickly gathered up the bundle, then stood. After casting one last look toward the lake to make certain Nathan wasn’t approaching the shore, she turned. And froze.

Nathan stood before her. Nathan, dripping wet, his skin glistening, rivulets of water trailing down his body-

Holy. Saints. Above.

Look at his face. Look at his face. But her disobedient gaze did not heed. Instead it riveted on his torso with the stupefied zeal of a thief who’d unexpectedly happened upon a sack filled with money. Beads of moisture meandered down the muscled wall of his chest, clinging to the swatch of dark hair that narrowed into a silky ribbon as it bisected his ridged abdomen… then spread again to cradle his-

Holy. Saints. Above.

She could only stare and be grateful her jaw was attached to her face so it didn’t flop onto the ground at her feet. Dear God, he was… magnificent. While she had nothing to compare him to, there was no doubt Nathan was exquisitely and, er, generously made. Undoubtedly the rest of him-his arms and legs-were exquisite as well, and she’d verify that the instant her eyeballs recalled how to move. She inanely wondered if the Official Spy Handbook addressed this situation: female clothing poacher struck dumb, reduced to drooling, insensate mass with freakishly paralyzed eyeballs by sight of magnificent, exquisite naked wet man.

“Rather like ‘Puss in Boots,’ don’t you agree?”

The sound of his deep, amused voice jerked her from her stupor, and her gaze snapped up to meet his. A devilish gleam danced in his eyes. A witty response would most likely come to her in a year or two. Perhaps three or four. Right now she said the only word she could manage.

“Huh?”

“ ‘Puss in Boots.’ The fairy tale. Except there isn’t a king here to offer me his robe. Only you.” He raised one dark brow. “I don’t suppose you’d care to remove your dress?”

Dear God, she’d love nothing better. Especially since it was so hot out here. She felt as if she were roasting from the inside out. Sanity, however, prevailed, and she lifted her chin. “Certainly not.” Egad, was that squeaky noise her voice?

“Not even in the name of good sportsmanship? It would certainly even the playing field, don’t you agree?”

“I don’t see how both of us being naked would even the playing field at all.”

“No? Well, I’d be delighted to show you.”

“I believe I’ve seen…” Not nearly enough. “… quite enough, thank you.”

“Perhaps you could explain what you’re doing here? You gave me your word you wouldn’t wander off alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I was with B.C…” Her voice trailed off as she realized the dog no longer stood beside her. She glanced quickly around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Humph. Wretched deserter. See if he ever got another biscuit from her. “… who was here just a moment ago, I assure you. But in any event, I knew I wouldn’t be alone once I found you.”

A smile that could only be described as wolfish curved his lips. “So you came in search of me. I’m flattered. Had you hoped to join me for a swim?”

“Of course not. I saw you stealing off into the woods and-”

“And once again you suspected me of searching for the jewels without you?”

Another wave of heat, this one guilt-induced, crept up her neck. “Not exactly. It was more a case of wanting to prove that you weren’t searching without me.”

“Ah. Well, as you can see, I was not.”

“Right. You were swimming. Isn’t the water rather cold this time of year?”

“As a matter of fact, it’s very cold.”

“You like cold water?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why were you swimming?”

“Are you certain you want to know the answer?”

Good lord, she wasn’t certain of anything, least of all why she continued to stand as if nailed in place and converse with him while he was still naked. And wet. And naked.

She swallowed. “Why do you continually ask if I want to know the answers to my questions?”

“Because I suspect you may not really want to hear the answer. Or be prepared for it. The unvarnished truthful answer, that is. As opposed to the sugarcoated drivel your Society acquaintances would offer you.”

“I assure you, I am perfectly prepared to hear why you were swimming.”

“Very well. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The thought of touching you, kissing you, making love to you, was driving me to distraction. I’d hoped a swim in the cold water would take the edge off my ardor. As you might have noticed, it didn’t.” He looked pointedly downward and Victoria’s gaze followed his.

Holy. Saints. Above.

“You’re blushing, Victoria.”

Her gaze jumped back up to his. “Am I? Yes, I suppose I am. I’ve, er, never seen a naked man before.”

“Yet why should that embarrass you! If anyone at this impromptu party felt the need to be embarrassed, surely it would be the person who was naked.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No. Embarrassed isn’t what I’m feeling. Obviously.”

Obviously. “Well. That’s good. Because as far as I can tell, you have, um, nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Thank you. Neither do you. I told you there’s no need for you to ever be embarrassed around me, Victoria.”

Yes, he’d told her. But her embarrassment had nothing to do with his reaction and everything to do with her own. With the fact that instead of turning away, she couldn’t stop staring at him. She wanted to touch him so much she actually trembled. How would all that beautiful male skin feel beneath her hands? Her lips? She’d always considered herself a lady, but there was absolutely nothing ladylike about what she wanted to do to him. What she wanted him to do to her.

Her skin felt tight, hot, beneath her gown, which was suddenly far too restrictive, constricting her breathing until her breaths came in shallow puffs. Her nipples hardened into aching points, and the flesh between her thighs grew heavy, pulsing in tandem with her rapid heartbeat.

“Are you all right, Victoria?”

She moistened her lips. “Are you?”

“There you go, answering a question with a question again.”

“Which I normally never do. It is all your fault. You make me-” She pressed her lips together to stem the flow of words.

He took a step toward her and her heart stuttered. “I make you what?”

Tremble. Ache. Want things I shouldn’t. “Say things I normally wouldn’t say. Do things I normally wouldn’t do.”

“Perhaps that is good. Perhaps you’re discovering new aspects of your nature. Or freeing traits you’ve kept hidden, knowingly or unknowingly.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Any number of reasons. The constraints of Society. Because your past experiences haven’t allowed you enough freedom to know your true nature. Therefore you just do what’s expected of you rather than what your heart desires. Speaking your mind, acting on your impulses, they can be very liberating.”

“One can’t simply say or do whatever they want.”

“Not very often,” he agreed, “and not with all people. But sometimes… sometimes you can.” He took another step closer. “Feel free to say anything you want to me.” Another step. “Or do anything you want.”

A half-dozen things she wanted to do to him instantly crowded into her mind, firing more heat into her face. His gaze drifted over her flaming cheeks and a wicked gleam glittered in his eyes. “Any chance you’d make a similar offer to me, my lady?”

Yes, please. “No, thank you.”

“That is… disappointing. But my offer stands.” He took three more steps forward. Now less than an arm’s length separated them. “One of the things I’ve come to admire about you is your courage. There’s nothing to be afraid of. This place is completely private. So tell me, Victoria… what do you want?”

Dear God, he made her want so many things. But really, it all came down to just one. “I want to touch you.”

The words came out in a rush. Without hesitation he plucked from her grasp the forgotten bundle of his clothes she still clutched to her chest then tossed the items aside. Before she had a chance to even draw a breath, he clasped her wrists and settled her hands in the center of his chest. “Then touch me.”

The fire burning in his eyes dissolved her thoughts. Melted her modesty. And ignited her courage. Heat seeped into her palms and her gaze dropped to her hands, pale against the golden tan of his skin. He released her wrists, lowering his hands to his sides, and she experimentally splayed her fingers. Warm. He was so warm. And firm. Smooth. Like toasted satin over iron.

She slowly dragged her palms outward, flattening the beads of water that still clung to his skin, his silky rough chest hair curling between her fingers.

“Your heart is pounding,” she whispered. Nearly as hard and fast as mine.

“Surely that doesn’t surprise you.”

She shook her head. At least she thought she did. She meant to, but every ounce of her attention was focused on watching her hands again glide across his chest. His quickened breathing left no doubt that he liked that, encouraging her to grow bolder. Smoothing her hands upward, she followed the line of his broad shoulders, then down over his powerful arms to his elbows.

“You’re very strong,” she murmured.

He emitted a rough, humorless sound. “Normally I’d agree,” he said in a deep rasp. “Right now, however, my armor is feeling decidedly… aahhhh. …” Her fingertips brushed over his nipples. “… dented.”

His muscles jumped beneath her gentle touch, and a wave of feminine satisfaction such as she’d never known rushed through her. Emboldened, fascinated, transfixed, she dragged her hands slowly downward, absorbing the texture of his flat, ribbed abdomen, and the shudder that ran through him. Shifting her hands outward, she skimmed down the vee of his waist, then over his hips until she couldn’t reach any lower without bending her locked knees, and rested her palms on his hair-roughened thighs. His manhood rose between them. Fascinating. Beckoning. He seemed to have stopped breathing, and she looked up.

The raw intensity in his gaze shook her. Any doubts she may have harbored that she affected him as profoundly as he did her vanished with that single look. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she brushed the back of her fingers over his arousal.

His eyes snapped closed and his nostrils flared as he pulled in a sharp breath. Again she trailed her fingers over him, stunned at how hot he felt. This time he rewarded her with a low groan. With her own breaths coming in erratic puffs through her parted lips, she looked down and watched herself caress the hard length of him, first with one hand, then with both, his groans growing more guttural with each pass of her fingers over his silky, hot flesh. His hands remained clenched in a white knuckle grip at his sides, and she could see the muscles in his legs, his arms and shoulders, his jaw and neck flexing, straining with the effort he expended to remain still. Spellbound, she wrapped her fingers around him and gently squeezed.

“Victoria…” Her name ended on a low moan. She squeezed him again, then brushed the pad of her thumb over the velvety engorged head.

“Done.” The word was a tortured groan that sounded wrenched from his throat. He grasped her wrists and pulled her hands from him. “Damn it, done. Can’t take any more.”

Before she could so much as draw a breath, he yanked her against him and crushed his mouth to hers. But no breath would have been deep enough, no preparation thorough enough, for the onslaught of this kiss. Where during their picnic he’d barely touched her, now he seemed to touch her everywhere, head to toe, his arms clasping her to him so tightly she could feel his heat, his strength, through her clothing all the way down to her feet. He kissed her as if he wanted to devour her, and she clung to his shoulders, ready, willing, desperate to be devoured, reveling in every nuance of his tongue exploring her mouth with such fevered, passionate perfection.

With a moan of pure pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. He kissed her again and again, drugging meldings of lips, breath, and tongues, reducing her to a tiny boat adrift in a fierce storm, desperately trying to stay afloat in the sea of sensation drowning her.

Utterly lost, she strained closer to him, plunging her fingers through his still damp hair, pressing her aching breasts against his chest, overheated, burning. Wanting. Needing.

She squirmed against him and he changed tempo, gentling their wild, frantic exchange to a slow, deep, languid seduction that pulled her deeper into the vortex of dizzying need. His hands roamed freely down her back, up her sides, then between them to caress her breasts. She arched into his palms, a silent plea he instantly answered. One warm hand slipped into her bodice, his fingers, his magical fingers, stroking one aching nipple, then the other, shooting fire straight to her womb.

Abandoning her lips, he kissed his way down her neck, then also deserted her bodice, skimming his hands down her back. Cool air touched her overheated limbs and she realized he’d lifted her skirt, the material bunched around her waist. With nothing but her linen drawers now between them, he insinuated one knee between hers and she willingly spread her legs wider, seeking to press her aching feminine flesh against him. Cupping her buttocks, the heat of his palms branding her through the thin material, he urged her higher, tighter against him, guiding her hips in slow circles against his hard thigh.

Victoria’s head fell back and a long moan of pure pleasure vibrated in her throat. She was vaguely aware of him kissing her neck, of her hands gripping his bare shoulders, but all her focus narrowed to the throbbing flesh between her legs. To the incredible sensations jolting through her with each circle of her hips from his guiding hands. He increased the pace, and her breath became ragged, choppy, her hips undulating, pressing harder against him, more desperate, seeking relief, moving closer to the precipice of something… something…

And then it was as if she soared over the edge and dove into a whirlpool of sensation. Pleasure spasmed through her, dragging a surprised cry from her lips that melted into a low growling sound as the tremors tapered off, then subsided. Weak with a delightful, boneless languor, she leaned forward, grateful for the support of his strong arms around her. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead in the curve where his neck and shoulder met and drew a deep breath. Her head filled with the scent of his skin-a warm, delicious, heady scent she couldn’t describe other than to know that it intoxicated her. And that she would never forget it.

When her breathing evened and she felt able to move, she lifted her head. And stared into his serious gold-flecked hazel eyes. Dear God, the way he’d made her feel… she’d read about a woman’s pleasure in the Ladies’ Guide, but the description in no way did justice to what she’d just experienced. And he’d given her that pleasure without even intimately touching her. What on earth would it be like if he had? How much more incredible could it be?

She felt a pressing need to say something, to acknowledge what had just happened to her, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of any words befitting the occasion. No doubt in a week or two she’d think of something brilliant, but right now all she could find to say was, “Nathan.”

His expression softened and the ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Victoria.” He gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Are you all right?”

She briefly closed her eyes and released a long, feminine sigh. “I’m… marvelous. Except for my knees. I seem to have misplaced them.”

His grin flashed, then he brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No.” She rested her palm against his cheek. “You… dazzled me. Stole my breath.”

“As you stole mine. And dazzled me.” After dropping a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, he said, “I’ll get dressed so we can look for your knees.” He gently released her, and her upraised skirts unfurled like the curtain coming down after the opera. When he bent to retrieve his clothing, Victoria knew she should turn away to afford him some privacy, but she simply couldn’t tear her gaze from him. And surely she should feel some remorse, a flicker of shame, but all she felt was exhilaration. If she felt bad about anything, it was that this interlude was over.

As she watched him pull on his breeches, she couldn’t help but notice his still aroused state. Clearing her throat, she said, “You allowed me great freedom with your body.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“And mine as well.”

He shrugged into his shirt and smiled. “I’m glad.”

“You, um, didn’t take the same degree of liberties with me.”

“An effort that cost me greatly, I assure you.”

“May I ask why you… made such an effort?”

He halted in the act of fastening his shirt, and his gaze sharpened. “Are you asking me why I didn’t make love to you?”

Warmth flooded her cheeks. “I’m wondering why you didn’t touch me as I touched you.”

“It’s the same question, because if I had touched you in that way, we absolutely would have made love.”

“And you didn’t want that.”

His brows shot up. “On the contrary, I believe it was painfully obvious that I did. Not making love to you was solely a result of me considering you, not myself.” Leaving his shirt flapping open, he erased the distance between them. Lightly clasping her upper arms, his gaze searched hers. “Victoria, surely you realize that if we were to make love, I risk nothing, whereas you risk everything. Regardless of what else you may think of me, I am not a man to simply take pleasure without thought to the consequences. And to be brutally blunt, the time to ponder such decisions is not when one is sexually aroused or basking in the afterglow of pleasure.” His fingers flexed on her arms. “Something happens to me when I touch you…” He shook his head. “… hell, something happens to me when I’m in the same room as you. You impair my control. My good judgment.”

A thrill ran through her at his admission. “There is no point in me denying that I suffer from the same ‘something’ as you.”

Any thought that her admission would please him vanished with the troubled look in his eyes. “Then there is much for you to consider. And it’s best that we return to the house now.”

Releasing her, he stepped away to finish dressing. With a start she realized that it had grown quite late, the shadows of the approaching dusk an obscuring gray under the dense cover of trees. She brushed the wrinkles from her gown and repaired as best she could the havoc his hands had wreaked on her hair. When they both finished, he extended his arm with a courtly flourish, indicating she should precede him on the narrow trail leading back to the main path. As she moved past him, however, he reached out and snagged her hand, raising it to his lips. Although the light kiss he brushed over the backs of her fingers could be described as proper, there was nothing proper about the wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Just so you know, Victoria,” he said, his warm breath caressing her skin, “regardless of what other decisions might be made, I fully intend to have my revenge for the sweet torture I endured this afternoon at your hands. And I shall have it when you least expect it.”

Whoosh. Good lord, she needed to carry a bucket of water about so as to douse the flames this man ignited. He started down the narrow path, clearly expecting her to follow, no easy task when he’d reduced both her mind and knees to porridge with his announcement. But the encroaching darkness snapped her from her stupor and she hurried after him. The trail veered, and as soon as she rounded the bend, she saw him standing in the path ahead, clearly waiting for her. Her gaze narrowed on his face and she moved forward. Humph. Obviously he thought he could just toss out provocative statements then saunter away. Well, she’d show him that-

“Victoria!”

Nathan’s shouted warning came just as she was grabbed from behind by a muscled arm that trapped her against a hard chest. She saw the silver glint of a knife just as the blade was pressed against her throat.