The orchestra players skillfully moved from one tune to the next, Finn’s steps never faltering. He’d been a fine dancer before, but now there was a confidence in his movements. “You’ve been practicing,” she said, surprised how breathless she sounded, as though she’d just come unglued with him in her bed.
“No, just watching. Too many weddings of late where dancing was called for.”
She was well aware his brother Mick had married that summer, Gillie in the fall.
“Are you going to dance with the ladies who come to the club?” She wasn’t particularly pleased with the spark of jealously that thought brought, imagining him as one of the men making each woman feel special, treasured. Touching a lady, holding her as close as he held Lavinia. She wouldn’t claim him as hers, and yet she didn’t want anyone else to either.
“It depends,” he said.
“On what?”
“On whether there’s a chance in hell that I would feel for one of them so much as an ounce of what I feel for you.”
Every speck of air seemed to have fled the room, leaving her struggling to draw in a breath. Halting, he cupped her face between his hands. “I know you’re afraid to feel anything for me again because of how much it hurt when you thought I’d tossed you aside like so much rubbish. Do you think I didn’t experience, too, the agony of thinking you’d betrayed me? I was a wreck, Vivi. I walled off my heart, built a moat around it, made it impenetrable, or so I thought. Until I saw you again, until I watched you lead children—clinging to your tattered skirt—away from a woman who didn’t have it within her to care for them properly. You’re a sorceress, with a magic about you that renders all my barriers ineffectual. Do I fear I’ll experience that pain again? I know I will—if you walk away or fate takes you from me. But I’m willing to risk it for just one more night with you.”
It wasn’t fair that he could spout such beautiful words that weakened her resolve. Had he taken to reading poetry or romantic novels of late? He was baring his heart to her, and she could no more allow it to be wounded again than she could return to her previous life. He must have seen her answer in her eyes, or heard it in her sigh, or felt it in her body melting against his, because when she wound her arm about his neck and lifted her mouth, his was already there, waiting and ready, taking what she was offering as though it was nectar from the gods.
It did not escape her that they were behaving entirely inappropriately in front of an audience of musicians who didn’t miss a single note as they played on, a realization that would have mortified Lady Lavinia but merely amused Vivi. With him she was different, saw shades to herself she hadn’t even known existed. He was good for her, unfurled her like a tightly wrapped bud that feared opening and revealing itself to the sun.
He loved what she’d become, what she was now, what she was doing. He hadn’t used the word specifically, but she felt it in the way his hands roamed over her back and pressed her ever nearer. Then they were no longer roaming, but lifting, lifting her into his arms, cradling her as though he could keep harm at bay, as he might have held her on the night after they wed, as though no one had ever hurt them or torn them asunder.
As the music continued to play, the notes rising in crescendo as though foreshadowing the arrival of the climax to a tale, Finn began striding from the room, a definite purpose echoing with each step, he who could move about so silently, no longer taking any care to do so. She pressed her knowing smile against the underside of his jaw, where the skin was soft and warm, fragrant from the heat there, releasing the scent of sandalwood. He’d bathed for the evening as well. The short whiskers along his jaw tickled her forehead, delighting her with the pure masculinity of the bristles.
He barely paused as they reached the backstairs, ascending them like a man who found no weight too much of a burden. His breathing remained even and calm while hers occasionally hitched as they grew nearer to her rooms.
He passed the corridor that would have taken them to his, continuing along the hallway that looked out over the gaming floor, keeping to the wall that housed offices so they weren’t visible from below, striving to protect a sterling reputation she no longer possessed, but then it wouldn’t do for the servants and staff to know they were up to no good.
As they approached her door, he said, “Do I leave you here or go on through?”
He was giving her a choice in case he had misread her acquiescence, the way she burrowed against him, and she loved him all the more for it. For not assuming their wants were the same, their needs mirrored in the other. She took his earlobe between her teeth. He groaned. “Carry on,” she whispered as seductively as she could.
She moved about this building with locks not used, with nothing worth pilfering, but when he closed the door behind them, he lowered her to the floor, reached back, and turned the lock. Then he looked at her and waited, just waited.
“It’s a shame the orchestra didn’t follow us,” she said, not doubting the path they were on but not quite certain how to follow it. “I rather enjoyed the music.”
“We’ll make our own.” Lifting the lit lamp from the table where she’d left it, so she wouldn’t return to darkness, he took her hand.
“No.” He stilled. “Leave the lamp here, lower the flame. We’ll make our way through the shadows.”
“I want to see you.”
As much as she wanted to see him as well, still she shook her head. “I want only moonlight.”
He gave her a tender smile. “I’ve seen you before, Vivi. Why the shyness now?”
“I’m older. You might not find my body as... fetching.”
“Twenty-five is hardly an old crone.”
“Please, Finn. I don’t want to argue about this or ruin what we’ve begun. I want you in my bed, but it must be on my terms with the romance of shadows and moonlight.”
He set the lamp back on the table and lowered the flame, and she loved him for that. Again, he took her hand. He began leading her toward the bedchamber. She heard a crash, flesh and bone against wood.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“What happened?”
“I ran into one of the low tables. You’ve moved the furniture.”
