After she’d thought he’d abandoned her. Pity her father was dead. Finn had changed as well. The earl no longer would have had the power to intimidate him, which he’d have learned when Finn planted his fist in his face.
“But those are the ladies you’ll want to invite. At least in the beginning.” Looking up, she released a sigh of wonder. “You had clouds painted on the ceiling. It’s beautiful. That must have cost you a fortune.”
“I’m giving the painter’s wife a lifetime membership in the club. He’ll appreciate a few nights of peace or going out with his mates to their club.”
“A clever way to keep your funds on hand.”
“I had a lot of time to determine how best to go about making this place what I envisioned it could be.” He’d begun his planning while in prison and had been forced to keep it all in his head, because they wouldn’t provide him with paper to work it out. “I have a dining room, a taproom, but it’s still missing something.”
“A ballroom,” she replied without hesitation.
“Women like to dance with themselves, do they?”
“Remember, you’ll begin by having wallflowers as members, and they seldom get to dance, which is a mainstay of being a wallflower. But if you were to hire men whose job it was to dance with them—”
“That sounds terribly wicked, Miss Kent.”
“Women have fantasies, too. They want to be desired. Very few are, really. They’re courted for what they’ll bring to the marriage.”
“What were you bringing to Thornley?” He hated that he’d asked, that although he knew the man was madly in love with Gillie, he couldn’t seem to move past the notion that at one time he’d planned to marry Vivi.
“Land.” Her answer was sharp and succinct. “It was lunacy, Finn. When I was born, our fathers agreed we’d marry because there is a small patch of land his father wanted. And it was much less bother for my father to sign a contract than to go through the process of interviewing young swains and ensuring I had a good match.”
“You didn’t love him at all?”
“I cared for him. He was a friend. But I never loved him as I once loved you.”
He didn’t miss the fact she was specifically stating she’d loved him in the past, not now. “What do you feel for me now?”
“Sadness because so very much was stolen from us, so much that we can never regain. Guilt. Because of me your life was ruined.”
He was hardly aware of taking the strides that brought him to her. He cupped her cheek, not quite as round as it had been the last time he’d held it. She was thinner, not scrawny, but not as robust as she’d been at seventeen. He looked deeply into those green eyes that had haunted him for so long. “Not because of you. Never because of you.”
Then he lowered his mouth to hers, and it felt as though after eight long years he’d finally come home.
It was madness to welcome the kiss but welcome his kiss she did. She’d gone years without feeling anything, without truly feeling at all, until she’d run from the church and embraced her mission of rescuing children. As fraught with risk as the endeavor was turning out to be, she felt a measure of excitement and anticipation bursting through her chest each time she received a letter from a woman stating she was willing to meet. The exhilaration would grow as she wandered the streets toward the designated meeting place; the satisfaction was immense when she finally had the children in hand. But everything she felt during all of those moments paled when compared with the elation rushing through her now, causing her heart to beat with wild abandon, her skin to tingle, her toes to curl.
She didn’t want to care for this man, wanted to leave the past behind, wanted to leavehimbehind because the guilt she felt where he was concerned was overwhelming. And yet as she tasted him again after a long fast, as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her in close to his body until she was pressed flat against him, she felt nearly whole when for so long she’d been shattered and broken.
She wanted to weep for the joy of it... and the terror. To risk seeing the disgust on his face if he learned all of the truth—
He wouldn’t continue to sweep his tongue over hers, to groan low, to hold her tighter. He would fling her away, condemn her to the life of isolation she deserved. He would discover that at her core she was a coward. When it had mattered most, she’d retreated in fear and shame. When the courage had finally begun to leak back into her, she’d been punished mercilessly until the cowardice returned. Unlike him, she still struggled to remain strong, to not retreat. With him, she was on shaky ground, contemplating that perhaps sins could be forgiven, that she deserved happiness.
A part of her, a wicked part of her, could not help but think that of all the places in England she could have gone, she’d come here because there had been a chance she might see him again—in passing, if nothing else. She’d longed to simply catch a glimpse of him, to know he was well. Now, that didn’t seem enough. Suddenly she wanted more, wanted what she could not have, what she did not deserve.
Drawing back, he trailed his fingers along the inside seam of her cheek. “You taste the same.”
“You taste darker, richer.” More masculine, more mature, more man. Simply more. How did she explain that without sounding like a complete ninny? Eight years ago, she’d thought them grown up. Only now did she realize they’d truly been just children. She didn’t know if they’d have been able to survive all the challenges that would have awaited them. She stepped back, needing the distance between them, and watched with regret as he slowly lowered his hand, as a sadness plunged into the depths of his eyes. “Yes, well.” Needing to get herself on firmer emotional ground, she glanced around. “It’s truly remarkable. I think you’re going to do very well here.”
“I want you to be my partner.”
She stared at him as though he were mad. Perhaps he was. She had knowledge he needed, but it was more than that. He wanted the opportunity to get to know her again and following her around on her midnight excursions wasn’t conducive to that happening. And he wasn’t confident he could convince her to go on a series of outings with him.
Finally, she blinked, shook her head, and released a quick burst of laughter. “You jest, surely.”
“I’ve never been more serious. You know who I should invite. You know how to get word to them. You know what would bring them pleasure, what would cause them to return. I want to show you something else.” He took her hand, grateful she didn’t fling his aside, but she was probably in too much of a shock to do so. He escorted her back into the foyer and toward a small alcove. Inside was a set of stairs. He led the way up and into a long corridor. Along one side of it were several doors. The other side was adorned with a railing and looked out over the gaming floor. “The offices,” he explained, before directing her to one in the center and pushing the door open. “Mine.”
He stepped inside, not surprised that she followed. The room was huge with an enormous desk set before the windows. Since he’d been released from prison, he’d been unable to abide small, cramped quarters of any sort. “There’s room here for another desk, so you would have a place to work.”
