Her nostrils filled with his clean scent; he must have used the same citrus soap that had accompanied her bath, but on him it reminded her of fresh summer mornings, of fields of wildflowers and bright sunshine. Perhaps he wouldn't notice if she smelled him a bit longer, since she'd already caused this debacle and couldn't possibly mortify herself further.
But the man was blasted heavy. Adelaide shifted beneath him, and Will hissed against her jaw. “Don’t. Move.”
Ever obedient (ha!), she froze. “Why not?”
His chuckle was low and lacking in humor as it rumbled from his chest across hers to pool deep in her belly. “Because…” Hebroke off with an oath. “I never should have come into your room.”
White-hot humiliation burned in her throat. She had forced him to chaperone a wayward bride, and now she was lusting after him and interfering with his sleep. How selfish of her. She pressed her hands to his chest and pushed. “If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you get up?”
This time, a subtle rock of his hips accompanied his chuckle. “If I get up, I’ll shock you and embarrass myself.”
Then she realized what she’d missed when she had her nose to his hair, memorizing his scent. The hard ridge of his arousal pressed into her thigh, the length blazing through the scant layers of fabric. “Good gracious,” she whispered, and he groaned as he pushed up, putting space between their chests.
“I’m sorry Adelaide.” The tips of his ears were pink and a darling blush stained his cheeks. “You deserve to be treated better than this.”
“Will, wait.” He stilled, held her gaze. For once she was without words, overwhelmed by the sheer want pounding in her veins. “You’re—are youattractedto me?”
“God, Adelaide.” He leaned forward, buried his head into her shoulder again. When he spoke, his lips brushed her clavicle. “Was it not obvious?”
She grinned, humiliation dissolving like morning mist. “It is now!”
He sat up and smirked, but then shook his head. “That’s why I shouldn’t be in your room. I don’t know if I can resist the temptation.”
“Why would you need to resist?” She attempted a coy lift of her brow. “Perhaps I wasn’t obvious, but I’m attracted to you as well.”
She’d barely said the last word when he pushed away, his erection tenting the front of his breeches as he paced from the bed. “That’s the problem. I can’t be attracted to you.”
Sitting up, she fixed him with a glare. “Why can’t you be attracted to me?”
“Because you’re too—” He gestured towards her, but cut off with a disgruntled huff.
Adelaide’s mind supplied dozens of plausible endings to that sentence. Too loud, too talkative. Too modern, too smart. Too plump. She’d heard them all from her mother, gossips at balls, the men who avoided her in society. For every insult she brushed off, two more sank in, until all she knew was a pulsatingtoo much, like an insidious heartbeat.
He raked his fingers through his hair, and she didn’t miss how his bicep bulged with the action. “Because of where you’re going,” Will finally said.
She tucked her hands between her knees, feeling like a chastised child. “My wedding.”
“Your wedding,” he echoed. “If I didn’t know—”
Adelaide was already on her feet. “If you had met me tonight, here at this inn, would you have approached me?”
His brows knit together, but after a long beat, he nodded.
Heartened, she stepped closer. “And if I asked you to come back to my room…” She stopped, licked her lips, reveling in the hunger that blazed across his expression. “Would you spend the night with me?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow. “Yes.”
The single affirmation washed over her skin, sending gooseflesh in its wake. “Then let’s pretend to be strangers. We won’t see each other again after tomorrow, and I’ve made no vows I can break.” She filled her lungs, lifted her chin. “Spend the night with me, Will, in my bed. Withme.”
The last word had barely crossed her lips before he was there, capturing her mouth with his. His hands spread wide across her waist, over her hips as he tugged her against him. When she gasped at the press of his fingertips on her bottom, he took advantage, sweeping his tongue against hers until her knees wobbled.
“This arse, Adelaide,” he growled against her lips. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Perfection.” He squeezed and fondled, sending shivers of pleasure up her spine.
“Mine?” she gasped. “It’s too—”
“Stop. I can’t stand it if you speak badly of yourself.”
His voice was gentle but contained steel, a foundation for something stronger. Perhaps something she could cling to that wouldn’t fail her. “I won’t,” she breathed. “For you.”
